Vintage DR. CYCLOPS Glass Movie Slide…From England!

Yes I’m still here, gang. Now, I could say that I wanted to leave my last post up at the top of the main page for as long as possible because it was a Leap Day special, and maybe there is, or was, a little truth to that. But, the more honest reason for the delay is that I’ve just been so busy with work, I’ve had relatively little time to tax the brain cells dedicated to writing, and when I do have time, all I really want to do is lie down and listen to the radio or watch whatever local professional sporting event happens to be, erm, happening. (I’m so glad baseball season is upon us once again.)

Furthermore, despite having almost unlimited things to write about (I got a lot of junk stuff), I simply couldn’t think of anything that got the creative juices flowing enough to render me typin’. No jive, this latest update was very nearly a look at the Atari 8-bit computer version of Superman: The Strategy Game; I even had pictures and a large chunk of the article already down before I decided I had lost interest. (Not in the game or computer, just in the babbling about it.)

Still, I wanted to get something up before too much time had passed, lest whatever readers I happened to retain started getting antsy. I needed to dig something out that would make for a quick ‘n easy stop-gap post; something I could snap a single picture of, ramble about for a bit, and then go on my merry way.

In the end, it came down to either a Simpsons air freshener from 1990, or our subject today. Did I make the right decision? Who cares, it’s a new update!

Remember the super neat Ken Maynard Lucky Larkin glass movie slide post? Of course you don’t; here, take the link. Well, we’re entering that arena once again, but this time, it’s not related to an antiquated (and possibly lost) sagebrush saga, but rather, some golden age horror/science fiction. Dig this:

Oh this is the stuff right here. I’m a sucker for vintage memorabilia from the horror and/or sci-fi genres, though since I’m far from the only one, it tends to be highly sought after (read: more expensive), and as such, I don’t add things like this to the collection as often as I’d like. Still, when this one crossed my path online, already affordable and then I received a discounted offer on top of it, well, I could only resist for so long.

Quick refresher: glass movie slides were quite literally advertisements projected on theater screens back in the day. They could be for local businesses or products, or, as we have here, pitches for other movies showing or to be shown at the respective theater. In this case, we have one for 1940’s Dr. Cyclops, and what’s more, it’s from England! Who knows how many of these could still exist or what my odds of coming across another are, but I’m guessing the number has to be pretty low in either case.

I bought this last year (from a seller in Jersey; go figure!), and as I recall it, I hesitated some before finally deciding to spend money that I shouldn’t. The reasons are, or were, twofold: 1) It’s not exactly a graphical feast. There is, as you can see, a nice old timey look to the slide, but it lacks the fantastic artwork that can really make these things ‘pop’ even in this day and age (go back and look at Lucky Larkin if you don’t believe me). Sidenote: they spelled “Janice” wrong. 2) Despite a love for vintage horror and sci-fi in general, where Dr. Cyclops in particular is concerned, to be totally frank, it has never been one of my favorites. Still, the various other factors related to the slide won me over in the end, and even if I don’t really care about the movie, I’ve also never really regretted buying it. Plus, who cares, it’s a new update!

Dr. Cyclops regards a crazy scientist stationed deep in the jungle who has developed the ability to shrink stuff. He shrinks a bunch of visiting biologists who, understandably, balk at being miniaturized and thus decide to defeat the mad doc and return themselves to their normative dimensions. Or something along those lines; like I said, it’s never been a favorite of mine. Look, just read about it, okay?

Anyway, the slide itself. First off, there was just no good way to get a picture of it; the glass that houses it is apparently the most reflective in the known universe. As such, please enjoy my hand’s cute reflection in it. (Seriously, this was the best I could do. But who cares, it’s a new update!) Also, note the label at the very top; I know it’s a bit hard to see (I briefly considered taking a picture specifically of it, until like Atari 8-bit Superman, the notion got nixed). It reads “HERBERT BAKER” and underneath “THAXTED (Dunmow) ESSEX” though what precisely that refers to, I’m not sure. It could have been the distributor of the slide, or perhaps the proprietor of the theater that ultimately projected it. The latter would be cooler than the former. ‘Course, it could just be the labeling of a very proud former owner of the slide, I dunno.

Thaxted is a town in Essex, and Dunmow was, near as I can tell, a railway station there that now no longer exists. I still don’t know how all that relates to the slide, though.

One more thing: 1940 was the year Dr. Cyclops, an American picture, premiered in, say it with me, America. (The United States, I mean; savvy?) But, that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s when this slide hails from. It could have debuted in England later, or possibly even be from a later re-release either way. I’m not sure there’s any way to definitively know. Also, keep in mind 1940 was World War II time, even though the U.S. hadn’t officially entered it yet. How that impacted the release of an imported sci-fi movie to Britain, I do not know. I imagine they probably had bigger things on their collective mind. Even IMDb doesn’t reveal the pertinent information.

So, you now know about as much as I do about this slide, which is admittedly relatively little. There’s a real possibility someone out there knows way more than I do about it. Nevertheless, it’s vintage horror/sci-fi, it’s a piece of cinematic history, it’s (probably) fairly rare, and, last but not least, it’s cause for a new update. What more could you possibly want in a post?

See y’all the next time I feel like typing stuff!

Vintage Cuyahoga Falls State Road Shopping Center Softball Team Jacket!

Well what do you know; it’s Leap Day once again! I can’t believe it’s been four years since our last one of these (along with the accompanying fancy schmancy post – speaking of which, I also can’t believe it’s now been over four years since we lost Marty “Superhost” Sullivan).

I’ve had at least one ‘big’ update in mind lately; an old television broadcast overview like I used to do more frequently. I would have absolutely preferred that been our Leap Day update today.

So why isn’t it, you undoubtedly and indignantly are asking right this very moment? Because the issue of finding the time to watch, screencap, etc. it is a big one, but even more pressing is the matter of actually digging the thing out to watch it. Oh I’ve got a (rough) idea of where it is, but the amount of intestinal fortitude required on my part to actually extract the broadcast from the increasingly-concerning level of stuff I’ve amassed over the years – preferably without breaking anything either in my collection and/or on myself during the process (dislocating my shoulder would put a real damper on the whole project) – is something I just haven’t been able to sufficiently work up as of yet.

SO ANYWAY, I wanted to get something up for this relatively-rare 29th day of Feb-brew-airy. Luckily, I’ve got enough junk stuff lying around that I never have to look too far for sumpin’ to babble about; it really all comes down to what gets me fired up. Or at least fired up enough.

I finally settled on this pretty obscure piece of local memorabilia. And when I say local, I mean really local; I suspect only (certain) folks from the Cuyahoga Falls-Akron-Stow-Kent areas of Northeast Ohio will have any interest in this one – and even then, I might be casting too wide a hypothetical net. Still, I managed to fulfill the pointless obligation I imposed upon myself for today, so there!

One of the most popular posts on this blog has proven to be my look at the old, now-gone State Road Shopping Center. It’s sort of a wash, since it’s an earlier effort of mine and I don’t think it’s particularly well-written. Nevertheless, it’s apparently filled some sort of gap out there in internet-land, and if nothing else, it definitively points to the sheer amount of nostalgia I had (and have) for a plaza I spent quite a bit of time at over the years. There’s a nice, new, swanky shopping center there now; nothing wrong with it, it’s just not what I grew up with. And as we all know, what I grew up with is of tantamount importance.

My arbitrary whims and the old State Road Shopping Center collided, albeit fairly briefly, once more near the end of my personal pandemic project post (alliteration). That one’s even more nostalgic, and in my mind, a much better-written piece, to boot.

Welp, today’s post now makes for a State Road Shopping Center triumvirate. (Triumvirate? Talk about using a $6 word! I guess I coulda just called it a trilogy, or perhaps even a trifecta, and gotten the same point across, but too late now he said as if he didn’t have the ability to edit). Dig this neato piece of SRSC (I’m tired of typing the whole thing out) memorabilia: your eyes don’t deceive you, that is indeed an official jacket for the softball team the center once sported! (Get it? Sported! Cause it’s related to sports! Oh, my writing abilities are simply on point tonight!)

No, I had absolutely no idea the SRSC sported boasted it’s own softball team back in the day. No, I don’t know what the genesis of said team was or how long it lasted. No, I don’t know who they would have played; I like to think the team’s archrival was the Chapel Hill’ers. (No, I don’t know if Chapel Hill had its own softball team or what it was called if they did.)

So, what exactly do I know about this? Well, I know the jacket is beyond cool. And if you think about it, isn’t that enough?

According to my official records (i.e., the pictures taking up space on my cellphone), I got this jacket back in July. Indeed, I was entranced the very moment my eyes fell upon it. I think it was $25 – and I couldn’t have cared less. I mean, when was I ever going to see one of these again? How many could there possibly be out there? Or rather, still be out there?

In fact, I was so entranced by the thing that I didn’t even immediately realize it’s a women’s jacket. I don’t think it looks particularly girly, so long as all the buttons are, erm, buttoned up. (Cause, opposite side and all that jazz.) I don’t know, maybe the lapels give that aspect away, you decide. At any rate, fears of putting wear and tear on it aside, my sense of masculinity won’t let me sport (there I go again!) it in public. Of course, the possibility of my wearing it out and about and meeting some chick wearing a men’s iteration because that’s all she had and thus finally meeting my true love exists, but like I said, sense of masculinity. *sigh* That’s just a risk I’ll have to take.

Here’s a close-up of the patch, which of course is the best thing about the jacket. (Duh!)

You know, I’m just assuming this was for a softball team, because isn’t that what these local teams generally play? I guess it could have been for full-fledged baseball, but just like my potentially missing out on meeting my soul mate, I’m playing the odds here.

There actually is another patch on the jacket, sporting boasting this one with a first initial and last name, but I really don’t think providing a picture of it would serve much purpose. Privacy issues beside, could it really help provide more info on this team/jacket? I seriously doubt it. I guess I could type the name and other appropriate keywords into a search engine, but it’s highly unlikely that would provide some pertinent info as well. In fact, the only thing I could see it accomplishing is making me feel like a gigantic creep.

All that said, I did indeed do some online searchin’ when I first picked this up; I came up with nada. I guess I could find some online group and post the pics there and hope someone somewhere knows something, but ever since one of my posts (full disclosure: a really meaningful one to me) in one of those groups was removed for unknown reasons, I’m leery of that sort of thing.

What did I do when that happened? I left the group, but not before deleting all of my older posts in it. Petty? Well sure it was! I guess it doesn’t take much to make me pick up my metaphorical ball and go home. (Another sports reference! I’m on fire tonight!)

One last picture: here’s the tag, which probably can be used to give a rough estimate of the years/decade/whatever this is from. It was made in the U.S.A., something not widely done anymore, so it’s definitely old. I’m guessing it hails from somewhere in the 1980s. No, I’m not familiar with the manufacturer.

Having fairly little meat on my bones, I can and do get away with wearing mediums, though I tend to stick with size large. As you can see, this jacket is a medium, but remember, this is a wimmins medium, which means it’s going to fit even smaller. I can’t remember if I tried this on when I first found it. I imagine I did. I didn’t when I pulled the jacket out to take pictures for this article, nor am I going to, because that seems like an awful lot of work for a post only eight people will ever actually read.

All that said, as a collector of local memorabilia, as well as someone with an undying affinity for the old State Road Shopping Center, not to mention Cuyahoga Falls in general, this jacket was one of those mega-scores seemingly tailor-made (see what I did there?! I can’t be stopped!) for me. Things of this stature, I’m sad to say, don’t turn up with nearly the frequency that it would take to keep me satisfied, but then, when they do, that just makes the find all the more special. And rest assured, this was indeed a special one.

(If anyone out there knows/recalls anything about this team, who they were, who they played, how long they were around, if they were any good, etc. etc. etc., I would love for you to hit up the comments and share your knowledge!)

Happy Leap Day, I guess.

Channel 6 EA$Y MONEY Wooden Nickel (When and where does it come from?!)

Am I for real right now?! Two updates in a single day?! What is this madness?!?! I’m lucky if I get two updates up in a single month anymore, but two in a day? Pure craziness!

Actually, this second update isn’t going to be very long at all, because to be perfectly frank, I know almost nothing about the subject. As such, this will be less of a post and more of a plea for info. Do I expect anything to come of it? Not really, but I’d love to be proven wrong.

Dig this [presumably vintage] wooden nickel:

See it? Okay then, you now know about as much I do.

I don’t buy a ton of them, but I can be a real sucker for old advertising wooden nickels. Occasionally I’ll scour sales online just to see what examples I can turn up (it’s not like they weren’t/aren’t uncommon), and that was the situation I found myself in when I stumbled upon this. It sure looked old, and the price was incredibly cheap, so a short hit to my credit card later and it was secured.

What was Easy Money (or rather, Ea$y Money)? And whose channel 6? I have absolutely no idea whatsoever. There was a CW series by that name back in ’08, but I really don’t think this pertains to that; I’d imagine a mention of CW would be on the nickel if that were so. And I don’t even have to look to figure there are more than a few channel 6’s across the country.

So who/what/where/when/how was all this? I can’t even begin to say. I’m guessing this was a live local 1950s or 1960s show in which viewers could win some, say it with me, EASY MONEY, somehow. While that’s a pretty safe assumption, I could still be all sorts of wrong there. Internet searches haven’t turned up anything useful, mainly because I don’t have any specifics (say, a callsign) to enter, and what I have here doesn’t exactly make for a short set of results. And the seller I got this from? They sold stuff from all over, so I can’t even figure on this being from their area originally.

The back of the nickel is pretty standard stuff, so much so that I didn’t even bother snapping a picture of it. It just has the expected Native American image with “Don’t take wooden nickels – for real money turn over” wording, which again, doesn’t help narrow things down at all. Unless those designs changed drastically over the years? Maybe a wooden nickel expert (are there wooden nickel experts?) could narrow things down from that, in which case I’ll gladly add an addendum to this post. But, I’m not counting on that happening. Like I said though, I’d love to be proven wrong.

My hope is this is for some Dialing for Dollars type show, again a pretty safe guess, but for all I know, this nickel may not even be that old. Wooden nickels tend to age well; what I mean by that is some I’ve seen appeared older than they really were, whereas some older ones looked newer to me at first glance. My gut tells me this is an oldie, but that’s all that is, a gut feeling.

So, any of you old television experts out there in internet land have any ideas? Hit up the comments, please!

WKBS-TV 48 Philadelphia Color Wrestling Ticket (1968)

I have a weird history with professional wrestling. With my formative years being in the late-80s and early-90s, the WWF (it wasn’t WWE yet) was a pretty big deal. As such, I was at least passingly familiar with many of the wrestlers on the roster, and I absolutely loved Hulk Hogan, whose popularity was so all-encompassing at the time that you didn’t even need to watch wrestling to know who he was. Which was good, because mom didn’t, uh, let me watch it. Oh I had toys, and a Hulkamania shirt, even a VHS tape of Hogan’s animated series, but the actual real WWF was something I wasn’t allowed to tune in to. I guess ma figured it was too violent for little me? And by the time the WWF/WWE was experiencing another resurgence in the late-90s and early-00s and I was old enough to where mom probably wouldn’t have cared if I watched, by that point *I* didn’t really care. Not that I didn’t see some here and there, WWE or otherwise, but as far as I can remember, it was never appointment viewing for me back then.

This overall mindset continues for me to this day. I like a lot of the pop culture aspects associated with [vintage] professional wrestling, but the idea of actually watching it is something that causes my brain to zone out somethin’ fierce. I dig old memorabilia pertaining to it, I even like some of the old school video games (I played more of 1993’s King of the Ring on NES a month or so back than I probably should have, and finally bit the bullet and bought Mat Mania Challenge for the Atari 7800 shortly before that), and you know, I even dig some television broadcasts related to wrestling (I’m thinking mostly of Mr. T and Hulk Hogan co-hosting SNL together back in 1985). But actually *watching* wrestling? It’s just not my scene, man.

There is one aspect of wrestling that I take an especially great interest in however, although it would probably be considered exponentially niche. This kind of wrestling I would watch, though considering the era it hails from, that seems unlikely to happen.

I’m talking about old school, live, local, televised wrestling. I’m not sure it’s the kind of thing that happens anymore (does it?), or how widespread it was when it did, but to me it definitively points to a bygone era in broadcasting, and that makes it irresistible to yours truly.

With that ideal always in the back of my mind, when I recently stumbled upon an online auction for this complimentary ticket from televised wrasslin’ out of the Philadelphia area back in 1968, I knew it was something I had to go after.

As always happens when it comes to auctions (as opposed to something I can buy right away), the fear that challengers would, erm, challenge me for the right to own such a piece of memorabilia cropped up. I tend to figure everybody is into this sort of thing as much as I am, though in reality that very often isn’t the case. At any rate, as auction closing time drew nearer, the thought that I wasn’t going to get out of this one without dropping some serious coin grew progressively stronger. As it turned out, I won unopposed, and the final price wasn’t just reasonable, but really pretty cheap. Especially when you consider that, hey, when was I going to have the chance to nab another one of these again? It’s not something I can see popping up with any sort of regularity.

Actually, what initially brought this ticket to my attention had nothing to do with local wrestling, but rather the station it hailed from in this case: WKBS-TV 48 outta Philly. Looks like they served a portion of New Jersey, too. Why the interest? Because, as you can see above, WKBS was a Kaiser Broadcasting station, and I’m a serious sucker for Kaiser. Why’s that? Mainly because of Cleveland’s WKBF-TV 61 and Detroit’s WKBD-TV 50. Don’t get me wrong, I have an interest in all of the stations in Kaiser’s chain, but those two especially because of, uh, The Ghoul. (I’ve written about him more than once of course, though I’ll refrain from endless linking. Hit up the search button if need be.) Originating in Cleveland and becoming just as big, maybe even bigger, when syndicated to Detroit, The Ghoul also popped up on other Kaiser stations with varying degrees of success (probably still a sore point with original Svengoolie fans out of Chicago, but that’s another story), and rest assured, my fondness for all things Kaiser begins with him.

ANYWAY, this ticket and their wrestling broadcasts, it predates The Ghoul by some three years. Good for the event on June 13, 1968, I absolutely love how the fact it was in color was a big part of the ballyhoo. Talk about old school!

Rules and procedures are on the back of the ticket, as you’d expect. Look close: this was a complimentary ticket, though how one would go about nabbing one back in the day is unknown to me. Maybe all you had to do was write the station? Or a gift from a personal appearance by some station personality somewhere? Maaaan I don’t know.

You know, I’m assuming this was a live telecast, but there’s nothing on the ticket that specifically states that. It may very well have been taped for later broadcast. Finding TV listings from the right date and area would probably help where that’s concerned, and maybe even note who was wrasslin’ that day, but short of doing some online buying (which I’m not inclined to do), I don’t know any easy way of going about researching that. Maybe there’s an online resource I’m unaware of? Maaaan I don’t know.

If this was indeed taped for later broadcast, there’s perhaps a slim, slim chance the footage still exists somewhere, but that’s not something I’d bet money on.

I like how it appears this event actually took place at the Kaiser studio, as opposed to some local arena somewhere. That’s really, really cool to me. The fact smoking wasn’t permitted inside probably didn’t go over well with some attendants; didn’t pretty much everybody smoke back then? I was going to say it may not have been much of an issue since I automatically figured younger kids on summer break from school would have been in the audience, except that, look, no one under 16 was allowed in. Sorry kids, you lose!

The disclaimer is standard legal stuff, but still implies that something pretty wild had the possibility of going down. Gee, maybe mom was right in not letting watch wrestling?

I like this piece of paraphernalia a whole bunch. I doubt it’ll ever be worth much, but it’s just so neat that I don’t really care. (Plus, it’s not like I ever get rid of anything anyway.) It was local (well not to me, but…), it was Kaiser, and it’s definitely vintage. I can only say so much about it, but the era it evokes in broadcasting history is still undeniable. Anyone who’s spent even a bit of time on this blog should know what a sucker I am for this sort of thing.

Springsteen & Scrambled Eggs (December 31, 1978)

You know, I liked writing about that 1992 Bruce Springsteen ticket stub on Halloween so much, I’ve decided I’m going to go to the Bossman well once again for this final update of 2023. ‘Course, in this case, things are even better, cause the memorabilia is local (to me, that is), the tour it pertains to is legendary, and what’s more, today is the 45th (!!!) anniversary of the event. It was even on a Sunday too, no less!

Now listen: I loves me some artifacts pertaining to the long-gone Richfield Coliseum. From concerts to the Cavaliers, the Coliseum hosted who-knows-how-many events for Northeast Ohioans over the years. As such, I’ve got a special fondness for the place. Funny thing is, I don’t even recall going there back in the day. I mean, maybe my parents took me to see the circus or something there, but it’s not like the venue was an aspect I would have taken note of at that young age. And by the time I was old enough to become a concert/sporting event goer, the Coliseum was but a memory. (It’s just a big ol’ meadow now.)

Nevertheless, because it was a local institution (for just under 20 years), I’m a sucker for things with that old Richfield Coliseum logo emblazoned on ’em. Especially when it comes to concerts.

Which brings us to Bruce. Springsteen performed 14 concerts there over the years, spanning from the “lawsuit tour” (that is, 1977 – post-Born to Run, pre-Darkness on the Edge of Town) to, well, the tour we talked about in that Halloween update. Readers who lean more towards the casual side of fandom will probably be mostly interested in the pair of shows he did at the Coliseum in support of global mega-smash Born in the U.S.A., but as far as I’m concerned, the real gold lies in 1978-1981 (what I consider Springsteen’s zenith, something I also briefly touched on in that Halloween post). Across that span, the Coliseum saw seven of those shows.

No joshin’, when I think about what Bruce tour I’d attend if I had the option of going back in time (either via time machine or at least quantum leapin’), I constantly ping pong between the 1978-1979 Darkness on the Edge of Town tour or the 1980-1981 tour in support of The River. (This presupposes I can only attend one, for some reason.) I can never come to a definitive conclusion though; my choice is always decided by which album/tour I’m currently feeling. The good news is there’s really no wrong option.

Still, in the realm of Springsteen mega-fandom, no other tour generally receives the level of acclaim that the Darkness tour does. And as it turned out, the Richfield Coliseum was the venue for the final two shows of it!

December 31, 1978 and January 1, 1979 were those two dates, and while 1/1/79 was a tremendous grand finale, 12/31/78 will be our main focus for this post, since, you know, today is New Year’s Eve and all. Plus, it’s not like that penultimate show was exactly a slouch – one look at the setlist in that link will aptly demonstrate that.

This wasn’t the first or last time Bruce performed a New Year’s Eve concert; Philly got one in 1975, and perhaps most memorably, Uniondale, NY’s 1980 send-off was nothing less than monumental. (Both of those concerts have been officially released via Springsteen’s Live Archive Series, and while I’d absolutely flip if 12/31/78 and/or 1/1/79 showed up there someday, considering the series tends to focus on shows recorded in multitrack, and since there seems to be doubt that either Richfield outing exists that way, well, I’m not holding out hope for them. Of course, I’d love to be proven wrong!) But whereas 12/31/80 was famous for how sheerly gargantuan it was/is, 12/31/78 actually has a sense of infamy hanging over it.

You see, this concert has become known as “the firecracker show.” As the new year was being rung in, one concertgoer in a particularly, erm, festive spirit decided it was a good idea to throw a lit firecracker on stage. Unfortunately, it exploded uncomfortably close to Bruce’s eye, which caused him to briefly voice his displeasure, and then a little later more elaborately speak about it. (It wouldn’t be the last time Bruce would show his displeasure for firecrackers at his shows either; for example, at one point in 1981, after someone set one off in the crowd, he declared the offending party “no friend of mine” – along with some other, uh, colorful, but entirely understandable, words).

Personally I would have been pretty shaken up myself (who wouldn’t be?), and who knows how I would have responded had it been me in that situation, but it’s to Bruce’s credit that he finished the show – and without any adverse effect on the performance, to boot!

SO ANYWAY, the picture you’re looking at above? Why, that’s a flyer for the big after party at The Coliseum Club that immediately followed this concert! Despite what’s printed on it, since the show went well past midnight, it was January 1st by the time it finally happened. I wonder if any of the band attended? (I doubt they were charged the $7.50, if so.) Can you imagine a better way to ring in the new year? People already exhausted from a fantastic Springsteen concert, partying some more! And disco? Hey, it was 1978, or well 1979, after all!

I picked this flyer up online. I was watching an auction for another flyer from that tour, and decided to see if there was anything else in the same wheelhouse that piqued my interest. As it so happened, this one here had been listed shortly before – right place, right time for me! I wound up buying the other flyer, but I like this Richfield specimen a whole lot more. It may lack graphically in comparison, but the local-to-me vibes and historical aspect(s) are enough to put it over the top for yours truly.

(By the way, you may be wondering what that big splotch in the top-right corner of the flyer is. That’s just a sticker from the original seller on the front of the protective sleeve the flyer is in; I never bothered removing it, so I wound up digitally obscuring it after my picture taking session for this post was finished. Just consider it a watermark or something, okay?)

Not enough New Year’s Eve Bruce memorabilia for you? Okay, I’ve got one more…

Yes indeed, that’s a full original ticket from the event! Like the flyer, I bought this online, and to be perfectly frank, it cost me more than some actual (as in, new, upcoming concert) tickets have. Still, the idea of having a full, unripped ticket for the concert was too cool to resist. (Though in the interest of saving money, I initially tried!)

And dig the mention of WMMS. The big Bruce Cleveland Agora radio broadcast from the summer of ’78 (held in celebration of WMMS’ 10th anniversary) will probably always loom larger than any other show Springsteen holds in Northeast Ohio, but if nothing else, this is an additional reminder of just what a FORCE that station was at the time. (That Agora concert did get an official Archive Series release, by the way.)

Hey, since this ticket is complete, maybe that time travel question I posed earlier just became easier…

Aw what the heck; because I’m not gonna do another update for January 1st and it’s germane to the conversation, here’s a little bonus before we close the year out…

Yes sir, that’s a stub from the 1/1/79 big tour finale! Unlike the previous two items, I didn’t buy this one online. Rather, my good friend Craig gave me this (along with a stub from 12/31/78 and stubs from 1980 and 1981 Springsteen shows at the Richfield Coliseum) a few years back. Well actually, it wasn’t a few years back; more like 10 or so now. (Where has the time gone?!) Because of work, I haven’t met up with Craig for a few years, but rest assured, I’d still consider him one of my best friends. Thanks C, thinkin’ of ya!

And with that, 2023 comes to a close on the blog here. I hope you all have a happy and healthy new year. See you in 2024!

Vintage Mo and Junior’s Restaurant Glass (Cleveland Sports History, Gang!)

Christmastime? Yes, it is indeed Christmastime. Guess what? I can’t think of anything Christmas-related I feel like talking about right now. I’m sure I could dig something up, if I really tried, but to be totally frank, I have neither the time nor the inclination.

Still, I guess I should post something before too much time passes since my last update, which was back on Halloween. Maybe it already has, I dunno. Anyway, I’ve settled on this; it’s not related to Christmas, but it IS football related – and we are currently right in the thick of football season, after all. And what’s more, it’s local football memorabilia, which makes it double neato. (The fact I already had the pic on my phone was an added bonus.)

Stick with me gang, this is way cooler than you may first expect.

Backstory: a few years ago, I was traipsing through the thrift when, as is my habit, I found myself browsing the glassware section. Now, I love old glasses, mugs, and such. I mean, not just any piece of glassware; it’s generally gotta have advertising of some sort on it, of course. (Though not quite always; vintage 1980s abstract designs can be alluring, and then, there’s the mug that had not only had one of those, but was also branded “Bruce,” which was even more captivating because, hey, there’s nothing there saying it’s not specifically related to Springsteen.)

Anyway, it was during this particular jaunt through the glassware section that my eyes fell upon the pilsner glass you’re seeing above. Mo and Junior’s? I had never heard of ’em. My immediate thought was that this was from a sports bar of some sort. Not exactly a giant leap of imagination, since it’s a beer glass with, you know, a football on it. Still, if this was a joint that no longer existed and/or had some famous vibes attached to it, odds were it was gonna come home with me. As it turned out, I hit a home run in both categories. (Or rather, scored a touchdown HAW HAW HAW!)

Now, when I’m out thrifting, I tend to grab whatever strikes my fancy, throw it in my cart (when applicable), finish mah rounds, and then, if needed, pull my phone out afterwards to see what info can be had via da innernets. This almost never has to do with pricing/value – unless something is outrageously priced and I need to see if I’m about to be royally ripped off. Otherwise, this is strictly for research and educational purposes on my part. Hey, I’m no flipper; the mounds of junk stuff I’m surrounded by proves that.

So, when it came time to see what was riding around in my cart with me, it only took a small bit of searching to realize what I had stumbled upon. Now, I’m a big fan of Cleveland’s sports teams; baseball, basketball and football, I love ’em all. If I come across a piece of memorabilia, and it happens to be vintage, I’m interested. And, in this case, I had found something not only related to the Cleveland Browns that also happened to be vintage, but also something that was relatively obscure and, honestly, not immediately obvious it even was related to the Browns. Possibly the reason why it was still on the shelf when I came sauntering into the store that night.

What exactly are you looking at then? “Mo” was Ed Modzelewski, Browns fullback from 1955 to 1959, and “Junior” was Junior Wren, Browns defensive back from 1956 to 1959. Believe it or not, there was a time when athletes weren’t automatic multi-millionaires and had to find offseason (and/or post-career) work, and hailing from that way, way bygone era comes this glass. For a time, Mo and Junior had their very own Cleveland restaurant, a restaurant owned by Cleveland Browns players!

Finding a glass from that? Maaan, that’s not just cool, that’s painfully cool. No jive, this just may be the coolest piece of vintage Browns memorabilia I’ve ever come across whilst out thriftin’. And because it wasn’t an obvious Browns item (like I said, I didn’t even know what it was until doing a quick bit of research), it was priced quite a bit cheaper than it might otherwise have been. The pic above is from the very night I found it (please enjoy the cameo by my stupid hand), and you can see a portion of the price written on it. I can’t quite make it out and have since forgotten what exactly it was; it was either 60 or 90 cents. Either way, I couldn’t have cared less – this was coming home with me.

I’ve gotten the bare facts, but have thus far been unable to deduce how long Mo and Junior’s was in business. This article from Cleveland.com mentions it but is more about the extracurricular work of our sports stars back then in general. This picture of an ad on Facebook purports to be from 1972, so they were open at least as late as that. I did see a pic of a (supposedly) mid-1960s cocktail menu with a logo similar to (but not exactly like) the one on this glass. The best source of info on the restaurant that I’ve found is on Ed Modzelewski’s Wikipedia page, which I already linked to above. For my part, I’ve been mentally figuring this glass as vaguely being “from the 1960s.”

At the end of the day though, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I mean, sure, I’d like to narrow down when it exactly it hails from (if you have any ideas, please hit up the comments), but when it comes right down to it, this is just such a neat piece of Cleveland Browns memorabilia that I’m not sure the other particulars about it are that important. Indeed, this thing pretty much immediately found a place of honor with some of my other very favorite pieces of glassware upon entering my abode. (After being washed up, of course.) I didn’t know much more about it then than I do now. Few other pieces I come across (in this particular category, anyway) garner such instant esteem in my sad little world.

On a related note, this glass was all it took to give me something of an affinity for Modzelewski and Wren. Their playin’ days were well before my time, but nevertheless, finding vintage, original trading cards of them to add to that particular category was easy, and more importantly, cheap for yours truly.

So there you go, a little mid-December update. Christmassy? Not at all. Neato? Absolutely. Stuff like this hits so many of the checkpoints I’m looking for while out and about; finds like this don’t happen often enough for my liking, but when they do, they make the dry spells worth waiting out.

10/31/1992 Bruce Springsteen Ticket Stub!

Halloween? Why yes, it is indeed Halloween today! Happy Halloween!

For this update, I’ve got something that, on the surface, doesn’t appear overtly Halloweeny. And I guess as a whole it really isn’t. BUT, it’s related to an event that took place 31 (!!!) years ago this very day, so as far as I’m concerned, it counts. Plus, it’s just what I feel like writing about right now, and that’s a pretty big factor, too.

Dig this:

Your eyes ain’t deceivin’ you; that’s a ticket stub from Bruce Springsteen’s Halloween night concert in Minneapolis, all the way back in 1992! Cool winnins? I sure think it is!

You know, I haven’t talked a whole lot about Bruce on this blog; the most notable occurrence was, wow, just over 10 years ago as of this writing, when I babbled about the neato Springsteen carnival mirror I found. Don’t let the lack of coverage on my dumb website mislead you though; Springsteen is my all-time favorite musical artist. His music has meant more to me than anyone else’s, with four (on some days, five) of his albums finding themselves on my personal top ten favorite albums list. Does that hurt the variety of the list? Maybe. Do I care? Not in the least. Hey, it’s my list!

So much of his output has been the soundtrack of my life. And even beyond the albums (I’ve got ’em all), collecting Springsteen memorabilia (I’ve got a lot), not to mention seeing him in concert when possible (right now, I’m up to seven shows, which is nothing compared to some Boss fans, I know, but that’s still six more times than anyone else I’ve seen live), it’s all been a big part of what makes me, well, me.

On the memorabilia front, I’ve been on a bit of a ticket stub kick lately. Mostly I stick to stubs from shows that were local to me; you know, Northeast Ohio. Not always though – sometimes it depends on the tour and/or venue and/or price. In the case of this ticket stub here, it doesn’t represent one of his generally more-celebrated eras (more on that in just a bit), but the date, the date, I bought this stub specifically because of that. And, to be totally frank, because I could get a Halloween day post out of it.

Graphically, okay, sure, there’s nothing too eye-popping about it; it looks like so many other Ticketmaster-issued tickets from that era. It contains all the pertinent required information: price, seating, the, uh, artist you’re entitled to see with said ticket, and so on and so forth. It’s been awhile since Bruce tickets were only $26! (The inflation calculator I just found says that would be $57.04 in today’s dollars, which is still a heckuva deal.) I’m not familiar with the seating of that venue, then or now, but section 116 sounds like it wasn’t bad, I guess? Maaaaan, I don’t know. You were in the door and guaranteed to see, as far as I’m concerned, the greatest live performer of all-time; closer is always better, but just being there is the really important thing here, in my eyes.

From what I’ve seen, ticket stubs from that 1992-1993 tour aren’t particularly pricey or sought-after. I’d imagine there are exceptions, but when an auction for a stub from one of his Nassau shows on that tour keeps ending and being relisted without bids for only $2 + free shipping (I eventually wound up winning it – unopposed – cause dude, it’s Bruce and it’s over 30 years old and it was two bucks plus free shipping), you gotta figure there are higher priorities in the Springsteen collecting world. (Which, of course, there are; lookin’ at you, script cover Born to Run!)

Why the (relative) disinterest? First and foremost, I’d guess it’s because for an artist of Bruce’s age, not to mention his general fandom’s age, a ticket from 1992/1993 probably isn’t considered golden era. Which, hey, it isn’t; for that you’d want something extending from somewhere in the 1970s to somewhere in the 1980s – though where that exactly that starts and ends is up to the individual. (Personally I’d go 1975-1981, with the absolute peak being 1978-1981, but that’s just me.)

But disregarding that aspect, that 1992-1993 tour followed the late-80s dissolution of the beloved E Street Band; for 1992-1993, Springsteen toured with an (almost) entirely new group (universally known as “The Other Band,” though they weren’t officially called that – or anything, actually). And that followed two simultaneously-released albums that weren’t always highly-regarded, something made even more glaring when you consider Springsteen was pretty much batting .1000 previously. Rightly or wrongly, the era isn’t always recalled fondly.

I don’t agree with that viewpoint. Okay, I was alive then, but far too young to be familiar with Bruce Springsteen’s music in any meaningful sense, let alone going to see him in concert. Had I grown up listening to/seeing him prior, who knows. But looking back now, I’m actually fond of early-90s Bruce. The albums, Human Touch and Lucky Town, I really think are better than they aren’t. (Lucky Town, barring some cringey lyrics in “Leap of Faith,” I think is overwhelmingly strong, and Human Touch, had it been pruned of two, three, or maybe even four of its weaker tracks, I think it’d be more widely-accepted as well.)

And the tour that supported them (and which this ticket stub is from)? I think it’s pretty derned good. Not his best, mind you, but those shows could be pretty terrific in their own right. They were rock concerts, but there was often a more soulful, Gospel-esque sound to the songs, though at other times, the band bordered on metal, so heavy was the rockin’. Sounds like a strange mix, I know, but in my opinion, Bruce made it work. (I consider the renditions of “Light of Day” from this tour to be definitive, by the way.)

Oh, Halloween. That’s right, this is a Halloween post. For that October 31, 1992 concert, according to phenomenal fan resource Brucebase, the set was pretty typical for the era, but the show opened with oldie-but-goodie “Spirit in the Night” (a video online shows Bruce lyrically modified it slightly to better reflect Halloween), but even more appropriately, Professor Roy Bittan played Bach’s “Toccata and Fugue in D Minor” as an introduction. Pretty cool, and definitely Halloween-appropriate!

There were Springsteen concerts performed on October 31 prior that had stronger Halloween feelings to them (1984 is a good example; 1980 is an even better one), but really, 1992-1993 tour or not, super strong Halloween vibes or not, could there be a better Halloween party to attend than a Springsteen concert? I submit that there is/was not. Your mileage may vary, of course.

And with that, this brief, but hopefully fitting, Halloween post comes to a close. Was it what you were expecting from me today? Almost certainly not. But hey, I gotta go with my gut sometimes, and even if I threw you a curve ball with this one, hopefully you liked it.

Have a happy, safe Halloween, gang!

VHS REVIEW: An Aztec Mummy Double Feature! (1980; Hollywood Home Theatre)

Ooooh, I haven’t posted since August; whoops! My bad! Time to rectify that, cause it’s October, and that means Halloween is a’comin’, and that means cheesy horror movies. And boy do I have a cheesy flick for us today! Two of ’em, actually.

Dig this: from the primordial days of home video, we have a Hollywood Home Theatre release! From 1980! 1980! As of this writing, a whopping 43 years ago! Because they came so early in the home video era (VHS had only been around for three years at that point, and was still a few away from well and truly taking off in a mainstream sense), these Hollywood Home Theatre tapes tend to be pretty rare; for example, it took me years to nab a copy of their Metropolis release. What happened was I ordered one for sale online, and then waited…and waited…and waited. Evidently it had already sold in the seller’s brick-and-mortar store, so a refund was issued, and then I waited even longer (WAY longer. SEVERAL YEARS longer) for another to show up. When one did, I naturally bought it, and while my hopes of a Channing Pollock edit were dashed upon arrival (it turned out to be more or less the same print as what we looked at a thousand years ago here), at least I finally had it.

Indeed, they may be tough finds nowadays (and even back then?), but there were plenty of titles to their credit. In fact, several months back, I kept watching (and unwatching) an auction with a bunch of old western movie VHS tapes. Most of them I didn’t care about, but there were three of these HHT tapes, each featuring multiple b-westerns per, and that’s what kept my ears figuratively perked. I didn’t technically need most of the films presented (and the ones I didn’t, to the best of my recollection, already have, I also didn’t really want), but the rarity of the tapes themselves still kept my interest level higher than it might otherwise have been. Eventually the lot sold to someone not named me, but I wasn’t too disappointed – after all, I still had this tape in my arsenal.

I’m just surmisin’ here, but as with other VHS tapes that still hold some value in this day and age, I imagine the horror and sci-fi HHT releases tend to garner the most attention. At least they do in my case. As such, when this “Aztec Mummy Double Feature” release popped up for really cheap, and I had never seen it before (or since), I jumped on it. Funny thing was, I never even had much interest in these films prior, but cornball old horror movies on rare VHS releases for really good prices, hey, that’s always gonna get my attention. In this case, I didn’t even hesitate when it came to hitting the “spend money on this” button. I probably should learn to hesitate more when it comes to that button, but this time around, I’m glad I didn’t!

Presented via an annoyingly uncentered sticker on the front sleeve, the movies that make up our double feature are The Curse of the Aztec Mummy and The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy, which are actually movies #2 and #3 of a late 1950s horror trilogy from Mexico. Beginning with 1957’s The Aztec Mummy, these were all filmed back-to-back-to-back. While that first film seemed to ultimately get some kind of butchered release in the U.S., the second and third parts were imported here in the early-60s by K. Gordon Murray, who specialized in this sort of thing, and it’s those Murray products we have here. (It appears Murray never tackled the first installment.)

There was also a 1960s effort titled The Wrestling Women vs. the Aztec Mummy, but near as I can tell, it’s not actually part of this series.

For my part, I tend to run hot and cold on these K. Gordon Murray imports. My interest in this sort of thing was higher in my early, early horror & sci-fi fandom (when I was around 11, 12 years old) but has since eroded precipitously. For example, I’ve never much cared for the bizarre 1959 Santa Claus he brought here (instead, Santa Claus Conquers the Martians has traditionally been my silly Christmas movie of choice), but his World of the Vampires was something that peaked my interest back then but doesn’t really now. (A revisit probably is in order, however.)

On the other hand, I saw The Brainiac for the first time a little over 10 years ago, and quite unexpectedly on my part, absolutely loved it. As such, I was hoping the two movies on this tape would fall more towards that end of this particular spectrum. Did they? Read on!

Actually, before we get to that, let’s take a quick look at the back of this sleeve. I didn’t really intend on including this, because these HHT sleeves are mostly generic from release to release. (I say mostly, because while you’d think they’re all uniform aside from the sticker on the front, the appropriate titles are printed on the sides. So why the sticker at all? A savings in cost is my best guess.)

Anyway, generic sleeves weren’t really uncommon in the early days of home video, especially where the backs were concerned. A good part of the time, these included a standard pitch (like what you’re seeing here) or a listing of other releases, some copyright info, and little else. It took a bit for manufacturers to realize, hey, we could be utilizing the back sleeves to, you know, really sell the movie proper.

Also, I just noticed it’s spelled “theater” on the back here, but “theatre” everywhere else. This discrepancy mildly disconcerts me, especially since I’m going against my every natural instinct and going with the “theatre” spelling in this article. It feels wrong. It feels dirty.

Oh alright, I’m gonna come clean: the real reason I’m bothering with the back of the sleeve is the old Blockbuster sticker still affixed to it. Forget the era the sticker alone evokes; I’m just amazed a tape of this nature could survive at a Blockbuster as late as May 24, 1994! Want an added bit of age-related depression? As of this writing, we’re coming up on the 30th anniversary of that date. No, that doesn’t make me feel good either. I think we need to wrap ourselves in some nonsensical silliness now.

I was passingly familiar with The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy beforehand (more on that aspect momentarily), but The Curse of the Aztec Mummy was the more new-to-me flick here. Online reviews made it sound like it would be sufficiently goofy for me – and it was.

(WARNING: some spoilers are ahead, as if anyone cares.)

Our title, our Angel, and our mummy.

The plot evidently picks up immediately after the first entry, which is odd since it seems that flick, in a butchered English translation at least, hadn’t even been released in the U.S. yet. A flashback at one point fills that part in: previously one Dr. Almada hypnotized his fiancée Flor in order to recall her past life as an Aztec maiden (a plot element obviously inspired by the Bridey Murphy craze of the 1950s; U.S. filmgoers had already gotten homegrown cinematic efforts in the horror vein with fare such as The She-Creature and The Undead, flicks that dealt with past life regression or some gobbledygook like that). It seems that the former-Flor had defied Aztec law and fallen in love with a warrior, which resulted in her being put to death and the warrior being given an eternal sentence as undead guard of an Aztec breastplate and bracelet. (That’s our titular mummy!)

Apparently the first Aztec Mummy was a big fat rip-off of Universal’s 1932 The Mummy, with the Egyptians being replaced by the Aztecs. Wanna know a secret? Despite being a classic horror and sci-fi lover, I’ve never much cared for the Universal Mummy films. Even the highly-regarded original has never been of much interest to me. I recall kinda enjoying one of the later b-movie entries in the series, but without doing a bit of (admittedly minimal) legwork, I couldn’t even tell you offhand which one that was. I guess I could go look, but that seems like an awful lot of trouble for an article only 7 people will ever actually read.

Anyway, as Curse opens, villain of the first film Dr. Krupp (alias “The Bat” for some reason) is in police custody (his interrogation seems almost entirely too informal and nonchalant, but then, I’ve been watching a lot of Miami Vice lately so maybe my perception is just skewed. I do wish Tubbs was here to yell at him, though). Krupp is, in almost comically short-order, rescued by his underlings, and seemingly undeterred by the events of the first film, continues on his quest to retrieve the breastplate and bracelet. It seems deciphering the hieroglyphics on them will lead to an ancient Aztec treasure. I guess the probability of making an undead mummy with superhuman strength really, really mad by doing this isn’t something he considers a big issue.

This may all sound like pretty standard cheapie horror flick material, but what drives Curse is just how unrelentingly nutty it is. This is some cheap, goofy stuff, and I consider that most definitely a good thing. For instance, as Krupp’s gang is breaking him out of police custody (the cops shake clearly non-firing machine guns at them while sound effects tell us, yes, they are indeed firing bullets and how dare you think otherwise), who should arrive to attempt saving the day? A masked superhero called “The Angel.” Think of a lucha libre, though I’m not sure he’s technically a wrestler. Nevertheless, the scene with Angel matter-of-factly driving down the road to intercept the baddies is wonderful, and his ineffectiveness at doing so gives me some real Prince of Space vibes. Angel is pretty useless for the most part, but his random presence gives this movie just the over-the-top factor it needs.

Some of the prevailing nuttiness of Curse is there naturally, while some of it is a result of the insipid dubbing. For example: Angel is promptly overpowered by henchmen, and while he’s on the ground unconscious, Krupp stops one of his underlings from shooting Angel dead. Krupp then clarifies that he wants Angel dead, but he wants to kill him in his own special way. They then leave him on the ground, get in the car and drive away! Ignoring the fact the baddies just gunned down a bunch of cops without hesitation or remorse, what really confuses me about this scene is that Angel’s head looks like it’s positioned under the tire of the getaway car, but Krupp’s gang hesitates just long enough to allow him to move it to the side before they drive away. This whole moment is handled so, I don’t know, lackadaisically I guess, that I honestly can’t figure out if squishing Angel’s head was Krupp’s special way of offing him, or if that’s just where the actor was and someone off camera told him to move so the car can split.

A lot of the goofiness is strictly dialogue-based, however. Certainly this is purely a fault on the part of the dubbing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love it. When Angel randomly shows up at the home of Dr. Almada, his sudden appearance is treated with less shock than you might expect a masked stranger to elicit. Angel then refuses to explain why he’s wearing a mask because it’ll take too long, then just moments later explains he wears it to make his crime fighting job easier. (It neither takes too long to explain nor even really needs explanation.) During that same scene, after Angel explains how Krupp escaped by gunning down cops, Flor states “what a ruthless thing to do” in a tone that doesn’t at all capture what a ruthless thing it was to do.

Dialogue dumbness doesn’t end there, either. Speech is redundant or nonsensical time and time again, and while we’re at it, I noticed the voice given to Krupp doesn’t fit the villainousness of the character; he actually sounds sorta kind and compassionate!

Also, Angel is eventually revealed to be Almada’s wimpy, bespectacled assistant. It’s something you can see coming a mile away, but it gives the film an additional, mild Superman vibe. Just, you know, minus the whole genuinely heroic thing.

The Aztec Mummy himself (itself?) doesn’t actually figure into the plot all that much until the film is nearly over, though at only a little over an hour long it’s not like it takes all that long to get there. Basically the breastplate and bracelet are stolen, mums wakes up, heads to Krupp’s hideout, does some pummelin’, retrieves the items, and leaves. Alright then, thanks for stoppin’ by!

I genuinely enjoyed this movie! It’s so fast-paced, goofy and at times outright stupid that you can’t help but love it. Plus, its brevity is an attribute, not a detriment. So does it indeed fall towards the Brainiac end of the silly Mexican horror spectrum for me? Yes, and in fact, I may like it more! As far as this tape goes, The Curse of the Aztec Mummy is worth the price of admission alone. Well, as long as said price is pretty cheap, like it was for me.

Okay, time for the second feature…OH HEY, WAIT!

Lookit that! In between the movies, HHT actually included the old Let’s All go to the Lobby snipe, plus intermission and feature presentation cards! I sure wasn’t expecting that! It’s a small thing, but it sure adds to the whole “double feature” aspect of the tape! I would have expected something quirky like this on a release from the 1990s, but for one as old as 1980, it’s definitely a pleasant surprise!

And that brings us to movie #2: The Robot vs. the Aztec Mummy. As I said before, I’ve had a passing familiarity with this movie, but until this tape, it wasn’t something I had actually watched. Besides this VHS, I own it twice-over, as part of the Grampa series (because of course), and as a longtime MSTie, I have that particular Mystery Science Theater 3000 episode on its respective DVD set. The Grampa tape is a later release so his intro/outro isn’t even on it, and the MST3K episode, that’s a first season installment, one I’ve heard isn’t particularly great even by the standards of that year, so I never even bothered firing it up. Add to that the movie’s reputation as dull and littered with flashbacks to the previous two entries, and yeah, I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to dig into this one beforehand, not until I had fun with Curse anyway.

(WARNING: some more spoilers coming, like it matters.)

Our title, and our titular characters.

Despite being filmed immediately after the movie we just saw, and in stark contrast to that flick’s plot, Robot doesn’t take place right where Curse left off. Instead, it picks up five years after the events of the preceding film. I’m not sure I like that, but it’s not like I had much say in the matter.

One thing’s for sure: it’s definitely loaded with flashbacks, including lengthy ones from the first film in the series. In the context of this tape, that works, and really, even in the context of the time in which this was first released here, it’s appropriate, since as previously stated that first movie hadn’t properly hit the U.S. yet. It’s kind of a drag seeing things we had already seen flashbacked to an hour or so before, and even more of a drag seeing flashbacks to the movie we had just watched, but it is what it is. And, there are large portions from the first movie seen here that we didn’t see in Curse, which helps flesh out the overall story somewhat. It’s here that we first see the mummy repelled by the sight of a Crucifix, Dracula-style, and while it’s not something touched on again (not in these English translations at least), it’s something that pleased this good Cat’lic boy.

After getting the preliminary flashbacks out of the way, the film then starts flashing back to (presumably) new footage to set up the main story, and actually, now that I think about it, much of the movie is one big flashback, being related to friends of Almada and his now-wife Flor. (Nice continuity!)

It seems Krupp escaped his apparent death at the end of the last film, and for the past five years has been working on his ultimate plan to defeat the mummy, retrieve the artifacts and get his precious, precious treasure. By hypnotizing Flor, Krupp is able to find out where the stupid mummy is now located, and with that knowledge in hand, his scheme is revealed: he’s built a remote controlled, atomic powered robot! When the breastplate and bracelet are retrieved and the mummy predictably wakes up to deliver a beat down, said robot should be able to withstand the assault and instead defeat the mummy once and for all.

And what a robot! This thing is a boxy, stereotypical 1950s bot, beyond cheap looking and impossible to take seriously. Inside its helmet is a real person’s face, assumed to be a corpse Krupp stole, and decked out with lightbulbs, the thing is just plain goofy.

But you know, when the climatic-yet-brief fight finally occurs, it does seem that the robot has the upper hand; it withstands every attack from the mummy. Like the last film, the mummy doesn’t really factor into things (barring flashbacks) until the end here. It does seem like he/it/whatever might lose the battle, though since it’s an eternal, supernatural mummy, maybe the fight would just go on and on and on in a repetitively endless draw or something. But when our protagonists arrive and shoot the remote control out of Krupp’s hands, the mummy makes quick work of the thing, shaking it apart like a bunch of tin cans. It’s both funny looking and highly anticlimactic.

I have less to say about Robot than I did Curse, because Robot just isn’t as much stupid fun. The titular bout is wacky enough, but the first half or so (it’s not like I timed it) of the film is mainly recounting the previous entries, and even when the new story proper gets rolling, it’s not as entertainingly stupid as the last movie. Even the dubbed dialogue takes awhile to get funny. The movie starts promisingly enough, with an introductory narration that promises the events to be notarized as true (yeah, okay) but then immediately contradicts itself by claiming the film is a work of both fact and fiction (which may hold some truth; the Aztecs apparently did have their own mummies, though I’m not sure how close they looked to the cinematic representation here, and at any rate I’m fairly certain none of them ever came back to life to fight crime), but until the end of the movie, things just never live up to that silly goose hype.

Furthermore, Almada’s assistant is back, but The Angel doesn’t make a reappearance, not even in the flashbacks (at least not masked and in action). Krupp does obliquely reference The Angel once, but if you hadn’t seen Curse first, you’d be none the wiser. That’s a let down, and takes away a lot of inherent goofiness, something Robot has but needs more of. A LOT more of. It’s just not as entertaining as Aztec Mummy #2.

I did really like the cheap-but-endearing cemetery and laboratory sets, however.

So that’s Hollywood Home Theatre’s Aztec Mummy two-fer. The second half of the double feature may not live up to the first, but you know, as a whole this release is still a lot of fun. Certainly it’s an early example of home video; the sleeve is mostly bare bones and the prints utilized aren’t exactly pristine (Robot looks a bit better than Curse, but not by much. That said, both are entirely watchable). Nevertheless, the movies are just wacky enough to recall the drive-in double features of yesteryear, something that is only reinforced by the intermission segment. If that’s what HHT was seeking to achieve, I dare say they succeeded!

Is this the most sought-after release on the label? I’m almost positive that it isn’t. There’s at least one Godzilla entry in their oeuvre, and I’d imagine that is worth some mega bucks to ‘Zilla/VHS collectors. Nevertheless, I’d think there’s some inherent value to anything vintage horror and/or sci-fi on the label, but even if there isn’t, I’d still say this is a cool way to visit, or revisit, these flicks. Provided you can find the tape in the first place, that is!

Vintage CREATURE FEATURES Television Slide (But Where Did it Come From?!)

Look gang, I don’t want this to turn into the “old advertising slide” blog, but I’ve got another, and with the fact that it’s just unrelentingly cool, we’re gonna take another trip to the well. Hey, it’s my blog and I’ll do what I want.

Of course, in recent months we’ve seen an old Batman television slide, and then a theatrical slide for Ken Maynard’s Lucky Larkin. We’re heading back to the television slide side of things now, but with fall coming upon us fast, and with subject matter that fits solidly with the season, the time is right. The time would be righter if I held off until October, but I ain’t wanna.

Dig this: it’s a slide for some iteration of Creature Features! You know, horror and sci-fi movies! Cool winnins! Presumably from somewhere in the 1970s, when I saw this for sale online, along with two other similarly-vintage slides, and for really, really cheap, I just couldn’t hit “purchase, mang” fast enough. When I first went trolling for old TV slides some time back, this was exactly the kind of thing I was looking for. I came up empty then, but as the hep cats say, persistence pays off. (Wait, do they say that?) Ironically, I wasn’t even specifically looking for it, I was just killing time on my phone before bed one night; rarely has my goofing off been so fortuitous.

The attractive red-and-blue color scheme, never mind the groovy font (it’s far out, man), points to something that looks definitively 70s to me, but that’s just my gut talking; I suppose it could also hail from the late-60s or even the early-80s. While I wouldn’t rule out the idea of this still slide being used for actual promos, I’m operating under the assumption its purpose was as a commercial-break bumper.

I wish there was some further identifying info contained in the slide; a station ID or a host name or somethin’ would sure be nice. The seller it came from was in the Gilroy, CA area, but that doesn’t necessarily mean the slide itself originally hails from there. And the name Creature Features, that doesn’t help narrow things down at all. That was just a generic, albeit catchy, title used all across the U.S. for decades. Some iterations were horror hosted, some weren’t, but the one thing they (probably) all had in common: stoking the imaginations and fanning the flames of monster fandom for untold numbers of kids. Not that that sort of thing doesn’t happen anymore, it does, but there was just something special about specifically tuning into the same channel each week for new old creepy content. Late Friday or Saturday nights or Saturday afternoons, those were generally the times you could find this stuff. If you’re like me, boy, the kinds of images and memories this slide evokes are just fantastic, even if you really weren’t there to experience them ‘for real’.

But no, I don’t know when or where this originally came from, and for all I know, some company could have printed these slides up and distributed them all across the country; it may not even be unique to one area. ‘Course, I did consider that this may not be related to a horror/sci-fi movie program at all; it seems unlikely, given the ostensible age of the object, but there is the possibility that it could be related to something *shudder* educational. That possibility fills me with a dread far more tangible than any shlocky movie. Well, okay, I’d take a nature documentary over a Paul Naschy flick, but that’s not saying much.

Ignoring that disturbing notion, I like this thing a whole bunch, and I’d sure like to know more about it. Given the age it hails from (read: most likely pre-home video) and the ubiquity of the title, I wouldn’t even know where to start researching – plus, that logo seen in the slide may not have even been in opening titles or print advertising; there’s the possibility it was strictly a bumper, and as such, tracking it down becomes even harder. SO, all that said, if it rings a bell to you, be a buddy and hit up the comments section!

Bentley Compu-Vision (1983)

Now gang, believe me when I say I’ve been wanting to showcase this retro video game oddity for quite awhile, and today is the day. Folks into vintage electronics and/or thrifting will almost certainly be at least vaguely familiar with the portable black & white TVs put out by Bentley in the 1980s. They were (and are) cheap and ubiquitous, and while I can’t find a scan online right now, I recall seeing ads giving them away free when you bought RVs back in the day. I would guess you could get them free any number of ways; buying cars, opening a bank account, and so on and so forth. That’s just a guess on my part, but considering how common they are and have been for many, many years, it makes sense.

Or maybe they were just incredibly cheap to purchase from the beginning. They weren’t exactly high end, but they did their job and looked (look) cool enough. I’ve related this anecdote before, but I still recall taking mine on a camping trip back in like 1999, and staying up late watching Terminator 2 on Big Chuck & lil’ John with it (by the end of the broadcast, the power of the gigantic size D batteries had been sapped sufficiently enough to basically render the film a silent). Granted, there’s not much you can do with these TVs nowadays, not without jumping through some hoops at least, but the point is anyone who has been into vintage electronics for some period of time should have a passing familiarity with ’em, even if only by sight.

WELL, it turns out lil’ itty bitty televisions weren’t the only things Bentley (not to be confused with the car company, near as I can tell) put out back in the 1980s. The most well-known and common, sure, but in addition to that, they also put out a similar-looking portable all-in-one Super 8 projector, which was, if nothing else, cool in concept; some of the reviews I’ve seen online don’t exactly give it high marks. (I have one of these, but it’s still new-in-the-box and I never had the heart to crack it open – especially since I don’t do much, or anything really, with Super 8.)

Also put out by Bentley back in the 1980s? A video game console!

“Oooh, what does it play?!”

The Bentley Compu-Vision (though it’s often spelled “Compuvision,” no dash, online – which is my preferred personal spelling, though I’ll be technically correct here in hopes of staving off snotty comments) was released at some point in 1983, and is a compact, elegant little beast. The black casing with woodgrain trim (which extends along the sides) obviously recalls the Atari 2600, while the built-in controller bays and usage of “vision” in the name puts it on the same turf as the Intellivision and ColecoVision (plus, hey, ColecoVision, Compu-Vision, CV – coincidence???).

Woodgrain was probably a little passé by 1983, even the then-current iteration of the 2600 had dropped it by then, but nevertheless, this thing just looks cool. From the onset it comes off like a 2600/ColecoVision hybrid. It’s a relatively small, lightweight console, attractively designed and with the shiny gold lettering of “Bentley Compu-Vision” lending it an additional touch of, I don’t know, techy class or something.

“That’s all well and good, but what does it play?!“

What’s more, the usage of “compu” in the name unmistakably plays into the then-emerging popularity of home computers. Computers were still a relatively-new thing to consumers – in a general, widespread sense – at the time, but their popularity was increasingly growing. Spearheaded by the Atari 8-bits and Commodore 64, and with the video game crash of 1983/1984 hitting consoles – and retailers – hard, the emergence of home computers as an ever present part of daily life (which continues to this day, right down to the smart phones we have in our pockets) can probably best be traced to the era we’re talking about right here. They certainly existed before, but it was at that point that their popularity with the general public really started taking off. Or at least that’s how I see it.

Of course, where the Compu-Vision is concerned, that’s just fancy-namin’; this thing is a computer in only the barest of senses. Oh sure, it’s electronic and does electronic things, technically you could call it a computer, but functionality-wise, it was hardly a substitute for an Atari 800XL.

Nevertheless, from name to design, there’s little doubt as to what era this hails from. From outside appearances alone, it’s tough to imagine this thing coming from anywhere but the 1982-1984 timeframe.

“SO WHAT DOES IT PLAY ALREADY?!?!”

So what does the Compu-Vision play, you ask? Pong. It plays Pong. And variations of, say it with me, Pong.

Quick background: in the 1970s, General Instruments produced the AY-3-8500 chip. Easily acquired, this chip led to a glut of Pong-based consoles from a variety of manufacturers in the late-70s. Of course, since the chip played the same set of Pong variations across the board, this meant there was little difference between the consoles beyond outside cosmetics. Indeed, we’ve already seen one such example with the Wonder Wizard a few years back.

With so many consoles being basically identical beyond their case design, not to mention the emergence of cartridge-based systems (and yes, even home computers were beginning to make the scene), it stands to reason Pong-based units had sorta petered out by 1978/1979, though in retrospect they still remain interesting examples of video gaming, based solely on how they look (unless you just really, really like Pong).

The Compu-Vision here plays four Pong-based games. In order of my screenshots, there’s handball (called “practice” on the console itself), squash (often called jai alai on these consoles, which I wish was the case here cause then I could reference the “Killshot” episode of Miami Vice, which I guess I just did anyway), soccer (also often called hockey), and tennis, which is just your standard, classic Pong.

Besides the expected power, reset and game variations, switches on the console also let you adjust the angle of the ball, the speed of the ball, and the size of the paddles, so these could all be made quite a bit tougher than you may first expect. The ball really zips on the fast speed, for example. This could make for some really fun, competitive matches, though I’m just surmisin’ here cause it’s not like I can ever get anyone over to play this stuff with me. Except for practice, these are all two-player only; my superfluousness has come back to haunt me!

Because this Bentley came out so much later than other Pong-based consoles, it shares some traits with other contemporary machines: sound is piped through the TV rather than the console itself, and unlike the Wonder Wizard nonsense I had to deal with, the Bentley uses a standard RF cord and switchbox. It also takes a 6V DC adapter, which I didn’t have available (or maybe I did and just wasn’t aware of it; I’ve got enough junk laying around to where that’s a distinct possibility). In a nod to Pong past, the console also uses batteries, though in this case it’s not several hundred (loose approximation) behemoth batteries, but only four AAs. Cheap and readily available, the convenience factor was/is off the charts!

All of this meant that getting the console to display on my PC and taking real, actual video/ screenshots was pretty easy. Yes indeed, those screencaps above were taken by yours truly, from this very console. Of course, given the AY-3-8500 used, the graphics (such as they are) are identical to any number of other Pong units, but I promise you, these here are from the Bentley. I mean, why would I lie about that?

Some (but not all) Pong consoles had the paddle controls built right into unit, meaning players had to sit right up on the machine and hunch over it for the duration. But since the Compu-Vision wanted you to think it was more than it really was, the controllers, while ultimately hardwired in (always a danger: remember the Arcadia 2001?), are at least removable from the unit. The cords aren’t super duper long, you still need to sit pretty close to the console, but at least you can lean back on the couch some.

Here’s the deal with the controls on these old Pong systems: decades of dust and dirt accumulate in them, resulting in them being pretty jittery on-screen. This is generally an easy fix, the potentiometers simply need cleaned. This is common enough that I automatically assume the paddles will be jittery whenever I bring a new old one of these things into the collection.

But you know what? This is actually the second Compu-Vision I’ve added to the collection (the first, my “collectible one” as it were, is boxed away safely), and in both cases, I’ve found the controllers to be excellent. Not only are they pretty comfortable, but they performed wonderfully without my attempting to clean them in any way whatsoever. Now you could argue that because this thing was so obsolete upon arrival (something we’re going to talk more about in just a moment), no one played it enough to get the controllers dirty, but I really think they’re just well-made in general. My first Compu-Vision, the controls were silky smooth, and with this one here, while they could probably use a bit of a cleaning, things are still entirely playable as it is. (Looking at the picture, you may be tempted to think there’s a bunch of grime in the base there; while there’s a tiny bit of debris, that’s actually the color of the nut used that makes things look uglier than they are.)

I never would have guessed it beforehand, but the controllers on this are some of the best I’ve found on a Pong console. Whoda thunk?!

Wanna know the most interesting thing about the Bentley Compu-Vision to me? It’s not the name, or the design, or the controllers. Rather, it’s the fact that it was even released when it was. I mean, 1983! 1983!! It may not mean much now, but it’s unbelievable just how antiquated this thing was upon arrival in ’83. I’ve seen more than one reference to it retailing at $25, a ridiculously cheap amount even in 1983 dollars (if accurate), but even if you could get it free with the purchase of a car or whatever, as I’m surmising, no kid was going to really want this in any serious gamin’ capacity. Video games, both at home and in the arcades, had hugely evolved by that point.

What’s more, the first flowerings on what we now consider the 8-bit era proper were in play. The Japanese versions of the Nintendo Entertainment System (as the Famicom) and Sega Master System (the Mark III) came out that year, and the Atari 7800 was in development here and slated for a 1984 release (which ultimately didn’t really happen, aside from a test market that year; we’d get that, along with wide releases of the NES and SMS, in ’86), but even the stuff already on shelves here in the U.S. was just miles ahead of this thing. Heck, it would have been outdated in 1979, never mind 1983! The fact that it was cosmetically made to ‘fit in’ just makes it all the more intriguing.

In a way, it makes a weird bit of sense though. I imagine the AY-3-8500 was still readily available, and video games were big business, so why not try to get in on the gravy train with an uber-cheap offering? Plus, it’s one thing to look at the console itself, but it’s not like the box (which I don’t have) made false promises. Aside from ignoring the fact it played wildly obsolete games, there was little doubt you were getting Pong with this thing. And aesthetically it fit in with home entertainment set-ups of the time, so I guess for a kid just trying to get the most consoles he could, it worked as filler if nothing else.

Plus, Pong may have been old hat by 1983, but don’t underestimate how fun and competitive a simple oldie like it could, and can, be. Indeed, when this came in, I had to unhook the Atari Video Pinball unit I’ve been noodling with, the versions of Breakout and attempts at basketball on it having kept me fairly occupied lately. There’s something to be said for twitch, hand/eye coordination type games. So while it may have been ancient even in 1983, believe it or not there was still some fun to be had.

Nowadays, the Bentley Compu-Vision isn’t exactly unknown; there’s plenty of info on it out there in internet land. But conversely, it’s also not that well-known, either. The Atari/Sears Pongs and the Coleco Telstars and the Magnavox Odysseys will continue to get more press in retro gaming circles, and rightfully so. That said, I think I’d say the Bentley is my favorite *proper* Pong console; the games are tried and true, and cosmetically it’s attractive, but the fact that it’s so ‘wrong’ is what puts it over the top for me. (Though when it comes to Pong consoles in general, I think the Telstar Arcade still tops it for me, even though that one was quite a bit more advanced and played shooting and racing games in addition. Although, while it doesn’t play any Pong variants at all, I think I like the Atari Video Pinball more than any of them, at least where U.S. consoles in this particular ‘dedicated unit’ genre are concerned.)

The Bentley Compu-Vision isn’t particularly valuable; you can find them relatively cheap and plentiful online. The first one I bought was entirely affordable, and you know how much this one was? $5! Five bucks!! There was shipping on top of that, but even that was incredibly reasonable. I’ve spent more total on old VHS tapes than I did this Bentley! Now granted, it wasn’t perfect; the battery cover was missing, and it was sold as untested, but at that price, I could afford to take chances. At worst, it’d become a neat display piece. The untested part didn’t even concern me all that much; while that’s sometimes seen as dishonest code for “broken,” in my experience these old consoles were built like tanks; I tend to give the benefit of the doubt and figure the seller just doesn’t have the switchbox or adapter or TV or whatever to fully test these. And while there’s a few machines I’ve bought simply for collecting purposes (that is, I never seriously intended to bother hooking them up – and still haven’t to this day), for ones I picked up wanting to at least give a try, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten one that hasn’t worked to some degree.

Of course, that’s just my experience; you shouldn’t use it as your personal guideline. But for me, I’ve had good luck with these oldies. Things back then were built to last.

So, if you’re looking for a Pong console to add to your collection, the Bentley isn’t a bad choice. It plays the same games as so many others, but it has enough then-modern attributes, both in looks and in connections, to make it a better option than some. Plus, it’s got that whole super-late release thing going for it. If this wasn’t the last Pong console released in the U.S., it’s certainly one of the very last. So if you’re only adding one Pong and don’t want to break the bank, hey, you could do worse!