TRADING CARDS :: That's a BINGO!

A few months back I tried out a new flea market in Londonderry, New Hampshire -- ever since my favorite one folded a few years back I've been on the hunt for a worthy successor. This was not that, but I still managed to walk away with a loot that justified the trip. And within that loot was a serendipitous assortment of mixed media that managed to bring about its own theme. 

Every flea market is populated with tables of junk, and most of those tables have no rhyme or reason within the boundaries of that specific junk. At the Londonderry Flea Market, one man was selling what had to be at least 100 swords of every kind (samurai, medieval, pirate, machete, and whatever other kinds there are) and also a plastic bin containing roughly 100 packs of Pacific Bingo! Trading Cards based on the 1991 TriStar movie. I noted the ironic unevenness of the stuff this guy was selling and I moved on down the aisle - about fifty feet, when I checked out another table that had its own odd assortment: military fatigues, history books (about the military), and an array of VHS tapes - many of which were documentaries (about the military) and one of which was the 1991 movie Bingo!.

I'd never seen Bingo!. (Yes, the exclamation point is part of the title.) All I remembered about its existence was from when I used to watch the Prevue Guide channel for hours at a time and they'd loop the same twelve trailers for the movies premiering on cable that week over and over again - and for a while Bingo! was one of those trailers. Even still, all I remember from that is that at one point someone holds a gun to the dog's head, and that Bingo is also served a subpoena. Needless to say I didn't seek out the actual feature on whatever channel it was airing during its run, and I don't think I've ever heard it brought up in any Pop Culture arenas in the past 35 years. But what I found at the flea market that day in the span of just a couple minutes felt like an opportunity to experience a movie in a fashion similar to the way I experienced them as a kid: see the film, collect the cards. So, I bought the video, then went back to the sword man and bought 6 packs of Bingo! trading cards. 

I let however many weeks go by before I committed an early evening to this whole immersive Bingo! adventure - but I may've been three and a half decades too late. I don't know how much I would've enjoyed this movie when it came out, but that's an almost impossible assessment; on the surface, I could say that I didn't really like these kindsa movies at any age, but now that I've seen it, I can say that there aren't really a lotta movies like Bingo!. Everything considered, I was expecting a tone along the lines of Homeward Bound or Beethoven, or maybe even Free Willy or Flipper, and it's pretty probable that that's what they were aiming for, but the whole thing is also an attempt to satirize that subgenre with a lotta weird and sometimes gross humor, generating an awkwardness that places it closer to something like Mac & Me or maybe even the Garbage Pail Kids Movie; when it tries to be funny it's distressing, and when it tries to be touching it's unnerving. 

Not surprisingly, the overall mood of the movie didn't really translate into the trading cards; opening up all six packs presented an attitude that more closely resembled the one I thought the movie was selling before I saw it: a daring journey, childhood nostalgia, lighthearted hijinks. But now I knew better as I was hip to the sordid subtext of each card. Obviously I didn't accumulate the entire set, but from these packs I pulled five singles that we can use to sorta outline some of the main events of the film - because if you've read this far, why the hell not?

- Paul

#26 "CPR Jump start"

Chuckie lies face down in a river after his older brother has left him there to die. Fortunately runaway circus dog Bingo shows up, pulls Chuckie out of the river, and manages to perform chest compressions until he regains consciousness. Bingo then strips the boy nude to dry his clothes before a bear sends them up a tree where they spend the night. Meanwhile, Chuckie's parents intentionally disregard his absence from home to teach him a lesson about being too attention-starved. 

#54 "The Duke of Franks"

Part of the setup is that Chuckie and his family are moving from Colorado to Wisconsin but they've left Bingo behind, so Bingo is following their trail across states by the scent of Chuckie's urine. En route, the family visits a truck stop restaurant where it's discovered that the chef (Glenn Shadix) is making his hotdogs out of actual dogs. Of course, Bingo eventually shows up and frees all the canines, and then drives a truck into the restaurant with a decidedly unspectacular crash. 

#66 "Saved By The Summons"

Bingo is taken in by a new family after he rescues them from a hostage situation. Because of his involvement, the dog is subpoenaed to testify in court against the kidnappers. I really just had to include this one because it's that one part I remember most from the trailer. I feel like a circle's been closed. 

#73 "Here Comes The Guard"

During the trial, the defense lawyer finds a loophole that incriminates Bingo, and so he's sent to jail. People jail. He has a little prison uniform and everything. This isn't just a quick visual gag, this actually ends up being a main trajectory in the scope of the whole plot. Typically I would applaud such a mix of bravery and madness, but it just comes across as dumb and dull.

#105 "Hoping For The Best"

This is a moment from the last scene of the movie, so spoiler I guess. Every character from the entire film is gathered in a hospital room in a dazed, gleeful anticipation for the reunion of Chuckie and Bingo. It plays out like either a dream sequence, or this is heaven and they're all dead. At any rate, we end on an announcement from Dad that Bingo is to be neutered, because this movie is entirely preoccupied with anything below the waist. 

MY POSTER PAST :: part 12

Tonight, we're gonna get Funky -- we're going to briefly explore the history of another poster company. Yes, this is my idea of funkiness, but in more literal terms we're gonna be looking at Funky Enterprises, Inc. - a brand that started strong in the 1970s, and as usual, died out in the 21st Century.

Located in Richmond Hill, New York, they hit the ground running with an inventory that consisted almost entirely of psychedelic art and, most notably, blacklight posters. In fact, if you saw or owned any blacklight posters from the 70s through the 90s, the odds were pretty even that it came from Funky. (I had a few myself, but in my experience blacklight bulbs typically tended to melt every lamp I'd screw them into.)

Their supremacy in the world of "Blacklight Art" was more than enough to secure their legacy in classy home decor, but in the 1980s they gracefully (actually, skillfully) changed with the times by successfully securing the licenses to a ton of music artists. Like, all of them; they offered popular prints for Bon Jovi, Guns & Roses, Metallica, and Ozzy, but they also had the monopoly on recognizable Classic Rock images of Led Zeppelin, Bob Marley, Queen, and The Beatles. 

If a big neon wizard or a picture of David Lee Roth in midair wasn't appealing enough to the youth culture, they also leaned hard into the pinup category, offering tons of tantalizing portraits of oiled bodies of both sexes in various states of undress. By the end of the decade, Funky had dominated the bedrooms and dorm rooms and basements and garages of at least two generations of fine art collectors. And they weren't done. 

I have personal experience with the blacklight trend even though I was a teenager two decades after the height of its popularity, but if you're anywhere near my age then you remember how a gaudy wave of superficial 60s and 70s "retro" nostalgia abruptly became big business in every corner of the culture, and suddenly I found myself in my bedroom behind a beaded curtain listening to "Within You Without You", lit by a 16'' Lava Lamp and a glowing Grim Reaper on my wall. In other words, blacklight ornamentation came back in a big way. Maybe bigger - not that I was old enough to visit a "head shop", but the expansion of this otherwise niche artwork into mainstream retailers and shopping malls (i.e. Spencer's Gifts) made them that much more accessible to minors like me. All they had to do was swap out KISS with Sublime and it was like no time has passed.

Funky's biggest "competitor" (and former Poster Past subject) was O.S.P. Publishing - a company that also put out plenty of posters of music artists and centerfolds, but also had the monopoly on major motion pictures. As far as movies, Funky's involvement was sparse and notable. They had a deal with New Line Cinema, and with that they managed to produce some artwork from Elm Street to Lord of the Rings for public consumption. The other really huge deal they landed was with comic books - both Marvel and DC. So if you remember those big illustrated prints of Superman or various X-Men that had that specific Fox Kids aesthetic to them, they were probably from Funky. In fact, they managed to hold onto the license long enough that they were able to put out a series of prints for the 2002 Spider-Man movie. 

The company's end is tired and predictable: The Internet came along and they dissolved into the ether. Again, not just because the Net killed retailers, but it also wounded the concept of decorating your environment with pictures that would ultimately distract you from... The Internet. Me, I don't march to that beat -- but I did do a quick inventory of what's on my walls right now and sadly I'm currently displaying only one Funky Enterprises print - of New Kids on the Block (though I have an embarrassing amount of Funky brand Britney Spears posters rolled up in my closet). Additionally, I'm currently only showing two O.S.P. posters (Bram Stoker's Dracula and a Dick Tracy Madonna print). But I suppose that makes sense - over the years, the ratio of movies to bands to boobs probably evened out statistically, with Cindy Crawford, Danny DeVito, and Freddie Mercury all vying for my attention. Really nothing's changed. 

- Paul

NINTENDO Merchandise From 1990!

Today I'm gonna show you pictures of Super Mario underwear and you're gonna pretend to enjoy it.

From 1990, it's the awkwardly-titled "World of Nintendo Gear & Stuff" catalog, a 20 page magazine-sized insert that I believe was mailed out to Nintendo Power Magazine subscribers. Within its pages are glamor shots of wristwatches, sleeping bags, beach towels, and like a hundred other things that advertise Nintendo in some way. But strangely enough, this isn't the kinda catalog you could order things from, nor was it any type of "circular" for one specific store like Sears or JCPenny. Instead, this was just an aggressive, colorful reminder that this stuff exists, and it was our job - our destiny - to find it. 

Right off the bat they give us a list of stores where we might find this stuff (almost none of which exist anymore) accompanied by a 1-800 number to help better direct us, turning this potential shopping experience into a video game itself. Personally I don't remember seeing an official "World of Nintendo" department in my local Bradlees or Woolworth -- not that I was aware that I should've been actively looking for it, but there's no chance that stuff like this would've slipped past me; Nintendo merchandise was like gold, both in its beauty and its scarcity, and I only ever acquired everything I found (which wasn't much) and I treasured it appropriately. 

I'm writing this article for several reasons. The first is that, while a lotta the images in this book have become "Internet Famous" over the years, the picture quality (and comprehensiveness) has never met my standards; they're often repurposed into memes or grainy thumbnails on Pinterest boards, but the Web deserves some hi-res scans of this publication (if not for you, then for me dammit). 

That leads into my second reason. I never make a trip to eBay without a quick search for late 80s / early 90s Nintendo collectibles -- even if I'm there looking for used auto parts or a birthday gift for a relative, I always gotta check in on the status of rubber Luigi pencil toppers, just to feel grounded. Point is, having tangible photos of these items in my hands, as well as interacting with them by scanning them onto the Net, is about as close as I can get to some of these relics that I so deserve. In other words, I rarely have the bucks or the balls to blow $500 on a Youth Medium Adventure of Link sweatshirt, so the physical act of doing this is enough to satisfy me without the financial strain. 

All of these are just a result of my real reason for sharing this: actively putting myself in this place, in this "World of Nintendo", is both calming and exhilarating. Superficially I enjoy all the sexy shots of party supplies and pajamas, and then slightly beyond that we can all laugh at the funny fashions and hairstyles of the era, but as a whole this catalog creates an atmosphere that practically has its own music (which definitely combines Hip Hop with guitar solos).

Some of the photography includes actual set design that ranges from TV Sitcom Bedroom to Miami Vice Bad Guy to Laura Brannigan Music Video, but everything assembled together on the same page creates its own radical environment, and it smells like Bubble Tape: the shapes, the colors, the fonts, even the terminology used, from "Get With it" to "You're Happening", all established the very specific corporate pandering that's unique to my childhood, and so it puts me very much at home. 

So in this Doom Scroll Era of Arts and Entertainment, I implore you to study the finer details of these pages, because not only are they full of so many beautiful and weird products (Super Mario Candy Bars? What?!) but also if you stare deeply enough into its Pop Art mosaics, you can almost feel the Fruit Gushers explode in your mouth as Joey McItyre pleads, "Please Don't Go Girl..." If that's your desired vibe, you're welcome. 

- Paul

TRADING CARDS :: Fleer 1991 PRO-VISIONS Baseball

I couldn't help but notice that Trading Cards are popular again - like really popular - and I'm absolutely thrilled. Granted it's largely within the brackets of stuff I'm not interested in (Pokémon, Soccer), and while I'm only a little sad that I'm unable to enthusiastically participate, I remain pleased that the interest and camaraderie and community of collecting colorful ephemera is back in the culture.  For nostalgic reasons, sure, but I also just generally enjoy when the public gets behind something harmless and joyful, like a song or a movie or little rectangular pieces of paper with pretty pictures on them. 

My first real serious venture into card collecting was the Topps Batman series in 1989. By the time I amassed the entire set, Topps redirected me to the new Ninja Turtles Movie Cards in early 1990, which lost traction with me once they unleashed the Dick Tracy cards. In between and all around these were also sets for California Raisins, Beetlejuice, The Simpsons, Ghostbusters II, and a new series from the long running Wacky Packages. There was never gonna be enough time or money to acquire every single card from every single set, but that never stopped me from trying. Obviously the concept of moderation would remain entirely lost on me, because alongside the endless parade of non sports trading cards, I played hard and deep into the world of Major League Baseball Cards. 

Basketball may've been the most popular sport of the 1990s, but Baseball was a close second in the United States - if not tied. (The Sports Movies of that decade will corroborate this.) For me, Baseball was #1 - nothing else was even close: I liked playing it, I kinda liked watching it, and once I got the fever, I loved collecting it. And the most exciting thing about Sports Card collecting is that, while each athlete was restricted to their own singular card in the series, there were also many different card brands to consider: Topps, Donruss, Upper Deck, Leaf, Bowman, Score, and Fleer (just to name a few). So, you could go hard and try to collect an entire set of Upper Deck, or, if you had some favorite players or teams, you could play the field and try to get each of their cards across every brand during any given season. The latter was the most attractive approach to me because, while the ball player was predictably in a different pose on each brand's card, they were also presented in a variety of graphic environments; the colors and borders and texts were sorta the highlight of all card collecting for me, so the idea of procuring an entire rainbow's worth of Ken Griffey Jr. images was entirely irresistible. 

Having said that, there had been some really boring looking series over the years with nothing exciting in the way of making the cards really pop in terms of graphic design. Much of that blandness existed throughout the 80s, but once the 90s hit, everything seemed to get a bit more bold. But in 1991, Fleer managed to combine the stark coldness of the older designs and combine it with the loud garishness of the newer ones to create some of the most notoriously ugly Baseball Cards that I can remember. 

Some might call the Fleer '91 set "elegant" or "sophisticated", and in a year when Grey Poupon ads dominated our TVs and Reba McEntire scored a hit with her cover of "Fancy", that's probably exactly the look they were going for. But My God, that yellow - if nothing else it didn't really convey the vibe of ballparks and peanuts and Cracker Jacks, but instead gave the whole series a National Geographic flavor. Honestly a solid white border with text would've been more striking... and for their special subset of insert cards, they did even better than that.

For the sake of clarity, an "insert" is a special trading card (sometimes part of a smaller subset) randomly placed into packs -- sometimes you got one, sometimes you didn't, some were common, some were rare. For anyone who thought "the sticker" was the best part of any pack of cards, these are what you were looking for, but when you added odds to the experience, it felt like winning the lottery anytime you spotted that noticeably different design. And in 1991, Fleer put out 12 randomly inserted cards from a subset called Fleer Pro-Visions.

Swapping the black & yellow color palette was a good start, but the real dazzle was in these badass illustrations. With attractive artwork credited to T. Smith, the set showcased 12 of the biggest All Stars of the moment, depicting them in some fantastical way that's specifically unique to their respective talents. Regardless of whether or not you're able to appreciate this from afar, I'm here to confirm that this is how an 8 year old boy sees Baseball and Baseball players: as almost Science Fiction Fantasy, complete with superpowers and cartoon whimsy. 

I won't bore you with any subjective dissection of each portrait (Bo Jackson was my favorite player of the day, but Mike Greenwell in front of "The Green Monster" is undeniably the coolest card) so I'll just leave you these with the certainty that you'll enjoy them on as many levels as I do.

- Paul 

#1 Kirby Puckett "Dynamite"

#2 Will Clark "Making Contact"

#3 Ruben Sierra "Taming The West"

#4 Mark McGwire "All American"

#5 Bo Jackson "Bionic Bo"

#6 Jose Canseco "Power and Speed"

#7 Dwight Gooden "Flame Thrower"

#8 Mike Greenwell "Green Monster's Friend"

#9 Roger Clemens "Pitching Magic"

#10 Eric Davis "All Universe"

#11 Don Mattingly "Mr. Yankee"

#12 Darryl Strawberry "Nuclear Powered"