Wallaby Wednesday: What other episodes should a Rocko live read feature?

It is hard to imagine any Rocko’s Modern Life aficionado omitting a cast reunion/panel/live table read from their bucket list. If the concept did not occur to one on its own before, the reality surely whet one’s appetite in 2012.

That was when creator Joe Murray and several key crew members convened in Los Angeles with four key actors. Concomitant with the show’s long-awaited DVD release, Charlie Adler, Carlos Alazraqui, Tom Kenny and Doug Lawrence revived their flagship RML voices via “Wacky Delly: Part I.”

Three years later, when Adler, Alazraqui and Kenny hit Florida Supercon, they resourcefully read “Cabin Fever.” Mr. Lawrence was preoccupied with a cartoon production commitment, for which his colleagues pardoned him in the subsequent Q-and-A.

Naturally, the top unanswered question from that panel is why stop there? There are more episodes worth reenacting, and more recurring performers worth trying to get in on the act.

As it relates to Rocko, ’90s nostalgia is doing nothing if not intensifying. To keep scratching that itch, one can hope various combinations of the cast will work to regroup for more table reads before adoring audiences.

Given her higher-profile career in live-action directing and production, Linda Wallem may be harder to borrow for a reunion. Then again, per the Internet Movie Database, the Carol Cleveland to Rocko’s Monty Python did reprise Dr. Hutchison and Crazy Aunt Gretchen in the (finally) soon-to-premiere Static Cling.

In short, never say never on anyone’s availability as long as they have a pulse. But apart from the most crucial troika based on volume of appearances, be prepared to make do with who you can get.

On that note, this author has selected the best live-read material based on various potential absences or lack thereof. None of this is to rate a given episode in general over its peers. These choices are based largely on lines that would be the most fun to see spoken by the source’s mouth.

“Rocko’s Happy Vermin”

While his chief character, Heffer, sits this story out, Kenny would get plenty of work as Flecko. Still, in this hypothetical repeat of the 2015 Florida Supercon lineup, he would take a backseat to Adler and Alazraqui.

The reason: This segment’s climactic scene bears several gems of dialogue between Rocko and both Bigheads. Flecko silently sets it off by writing a blunt message while Rocko reads it in real time.

“He’s…going…to…eat us…you…idiot.”

After more of Flecko’s louder-speaking actions, Ed is in one of his amusingly disoriented states. That is where we get Rocko peering into a fallen piano and cautiously suggesting, “I think I’ll take the bugs home now. Okay?”

“Bugs?” Ed asks in a not-so-Ed-like voice. “What are bugs?”

“Goodnight, Mr. Bighead,” Rocko replies as he opportunistically closes the piano cover. Ed continues to ramble, “Bugs? I don’t know about bugs.”

Rocko then completes his rescue by pretending to sample his neighbors’ intended meal. As Bev keeps granting his request for “More please,” he sustains the pattern in an exponentially full-mouth voice.

Not to be forgotten in all of that: Alazraqui also voices the overly enthusiastic exterminator.

 

“Uniform Behavior”

Granted, Wallem would be underutilized in this scenario. Barring a special addition to the script or a trade in additional roles, her only line, as Virginia Wolfe, would be, “Now dear, let’s not lose our temper.”

That aside, watching Kenny whimper “I feel naked and alone” to start the final scene would all but singlehandedly justify the price of admission. The preceding “I don’t want to be a cop anymore!” and several guttural screams of fright would not hurt either.

Assuming Alazraqui is emceeing, like he did for the “Cabin Fever” live read, he would have an easy time colorfully setting every scene. Heffer’s stripping and streaking and the slew of Shining references that precipitate it would make the meat of that aspect.

“Belch of Destiny” would be another solid option for the five-some of Adler, Alazraqui, Kenny, Lawrence and Wallem. This Heffer-centric episode would also let Adler bring back George Wolfe. Wallem would speak briefly as Virginia, and also play the Weasel Scout troop guide.

Getting David Pritchard to recreate his famous belch-talking (his only IMDB acting credit) on cue would be a tall order. But surely a recording is available, which would have the added benefit of Kenny lip-syncing the lines as Heffer.

“I Have No Son!”

If it’s the four main male actors plus Murray, there is only one logical untapped choice. Since they have already redone “Wacky Delly” (or at least half of it), Ralph Bighead’s other speaking appearance is the way to go.

For Lawrence, whose performing parts paled in comparison to his three core castmates over the breadth of the series, this would be an exceptional opportunity to shine. He is the real-life creator of The Fatheads, and also narrates the show within the show.

Those interspersed “clips” would also give Alazraqui or Murray a chance for more colorful dialogue-framing descriptions. And while Martin Olson’s corporeal presence to provide the one-man laugh track would be best, a recording would suffice.

Not to mention, who among the Rocko fan base would not want to watch Murray recreate Ralph’s “Never!” tirade in its entirety?

“Tickled Pinky”

This would be the best option for a panel that Wallem makes but Lawrence misses. Between Hutch, Pinky, Ms. Pancreas and Rocko’s bladder, Wallem would get ample, wide-ranging work. Perhaps the best among that would be Rocko’s appendix adorably making dangerous requests.

Meanwhile, Alazraqui and Kenny would primarily stick to their core characters, and Adler would have fun reviving Seymour the boil-laden ram.

“To Heck and Back” is a close runner-up for this lineup. Wallem plays Karen and the cashier, and Kenny steals the spotlight through his double-shifting dialogue as Heffer and Peaches.

“Kiss Me, I’m Foreign”

This would all but signal the best-case gang’s-all-here scenario. There would be a sufficient supply of lines for Wallem as Hutch plus the voices of Rocko, Heffer, Filburt and the Bigheads. Alazraqui would have extra duties as the turn-the-page-wash-your-hands rabbit.

As a bonus, under these circumstances, Quinn Kitmitto would be there to bring back her first animation acting role. She memorably enlivened the perky judge who officiates Rocko’s “wedding” with “Ophelia.”

“Speaking Terms”

With Nosey slated to come back in Static Cling, Jill Talley will double the Rocko credits on her resume. But within the series, Kenny’s wife (they married the year this episode premiered) had one go-round as the talk-show host capitalizing on Heffer and Rocko’s feud.

In the episode, Filburt does his part to egg his bickering friends on. But with the embarrassingly motherly Virginia playing peacekeeper, Wallem has a notable role as well.

First-year Devil Tariq Hammond getting a good read on Binghamton

(Photo credit: JustSports Photography/Binghamton Devils)

 

Tariq Hammond’s volunteer excursions typically follow the same pattern. He will read to school children, answer questions about life as a hockey player and repeat the same process over again.

 

 

That was the format at CR Weeks, Deposit Elementary and Olmstead Elementary, all located within 30 miles of Binghamton, where he spent the better part of his rookie season with the Devils’ AHL affiliate this past year.

Despite the routine feel of these volunteer experiences, one moment stands out for the defenseman. Just like a game schedule, some editions on his school-visit slate pack an inescapably greater magnitude.

“I once read to an entire school,” Hammond told Pucks and Recreation, “which was stunning that the school arranged for me to read to that large a gathering of school children.”

That school was Chenango Forks Elementary, a Binghamton institute with an estimated K-through-5 enrollment of 700 students. The student-teacher ratio there is 14:1, meaning Hammond had the average classroom size multiplied by 50 during his drop-in.

“Luckily, I didn’t stumble too hard over the words,” he laughed when reflecting on that unexpected task.

Stumbles or not, that community involvement was enough to garner the Calgary native his team’s nomination for the AHL’s Yanick Dupre Memorial Award, given annually to an AHL player for contributions to the local community and charititable organizations. (The 2019 award has since gone to Landon Ferraro of the Iowa Wild.)

Before his notable achievements this year, Hammond was extensively involved in his amateur and collegiate stops. By the time he turned pro last spring, it was almost second nature for him to devote his time in Upstate New York.

Moreover, he had established a niche in promoting reading. Hammond played for the Okotoks Oilers of the Alberta Junior Hockey League from 2011 to 2014, and used that opportunity to volunteer in local literacy programs.

 

(Photo credit: JustSports Photography/Binghamton Devils)

 

“Volunteering is something I like doing,” he said. “I think it helps make the kids’ day, and it certainly brightens my day. It is easy to do, but it goes a long way and impacts everyone involved.”

As his hockey career progressed, Hammond continued to build a remarkable service resume. During his days at the University of Denver, where he won a national title and later captained the Pioneers, he built sustained relationships in the area that have continued post-graduation.

“In the offseason, I often spend much of my time in Denver,” he said. “I connect with alumni that used to play for Denver. We organize charity hockey tournaments. One of them is called the Dawg Bowl which is often used to benefit former hockey players with life-threatening illnesses. In fact, last year the tournament raised money for the Humboldt Broncos.”

Now in its ninth year, the Dawg Bowl will take place from June 20 through June 23, with 42 teams in seven divisions. The beneficiary, a member of the Saskatchewan Junior Hockey League, experienced a tragic bus crash that killed 16 people and injured 13 others when a semi-trailer truck struck their northbound coach bus near Armley, Saskatchewan, in 2018.

To honor the survivors and commemorate those who have died, the highlight of the Dawg Bowl this year is the Survivor Game, where all the participants will wear Humboldt jerseys. Beyond the games, fans indulge in food, live music and a kid’s zone to raise money for a good cause.

Just as Hammond wasted no time constructing a strong rapport with his Mile High community, he jumped right into the Binghamton area this past year. He explained that the B-Devils form partnerships with individual schools and offer the chance to get involved in different schools.

Besides learning more about his own off-ice passions, Hammond has extended his teamwork with fellow New Jersey hopefuls.

“I often volunteer with a few teammates,” he said, “and it is cool to get away from the rink to see a different side of my teammates than what I normally see.”

Beyond these insights into his colleagues, Hammond also relishes the chance to interact with local schoolchildren.

(Photo credit: JustSports Photography/Binghamton Devils)

“All of the kids I read to are different, and I enjoy meeting each one,” he said Hammond. “They often ask funny questions about life as a hockey player, and it is enjoyable to see what they say.”

Beyond the Devils’ reading program, Hammond has also participated in the Toys for Tots Spaghetti Dinner and the Devils’ booster-club meetings. His involvement continues a strong tradition of the Devils’ commitment to delivering a memorable holiday season.

For 17 years, the local AHL franchise has partnered with the Binghamton, Endicott, Johnson City and Vestal Police Departments to offer this dinner to benefit the Broome County Toys for Tots program. The partnership dates back to when the league returned to the city in 2002 with the Senators, who arrived five years after the Rangers departed.

Since becoming New Jersey’s farm base in 2017-18, the Binghamton Devils have followed that precedent. The Toys for Tots program collects unwrapped toys to deliver to families in need during the holiday season. In his first shift, Hammond and other Devils players served an Italian dinner to generous donors and supporters.

Both the dinner and the Booster Club Meetings meaningfully impacted Hammond. “The team does a lot for the community and the Booster Club does a lot for the team,” he said. “Getting to know them has been influential for me to just simply say thank you for their support of the Devils.”

With 2018-19 behind him, Hammond has exhausted a one-year minor-league contract with the Devils. But whether he is back in Binghamton or taking root elsewhere this fall, one can expect him to continue devoting his time to community service and honing his skills on the ice.

“Hockey players and athletes make a huge impact in their community,” he said. “The fans show up for our games, which is why it is always better to play on home ice. The fans care about you. It is only right to get involved in your community for the fans who spend their time coming to watch you play. Your presence really grows around the town, and it goes a long way in making a difference.”

-          John Morton

Wallaby Wednesday: Could Bloaty and Squirmy be figments of Rocko’s imagination?

While researching last week’s edition of this column, this author encountered a fascinating fan theory. An anonymous Fandom summary of “Dirty Dog,” the first of three Rocko’s Modern Life episodes to feature Bloaty and Squirmy, ends with the following bulletpoint:

“Rocko wonders what kind of parasites live on his dog before we first get introduced to Bloaty and Squirmy, implying that they exist solely in his imagination.”

How much, if any, merit does that idea hold? When you consider the full scope of Rocko’s character as the series depicts it, you cannot rule it out. His other, more direct interactions with insects are the keys to credibility.

But on the whole, the thought of Spunky’s owner envisioning a sitcom on the pup’s back is a wide stretch. The sequence the Fandom contributor alludes to has Rocko and a Scum Away Doggy Spray pitchman referring to parasites as “nasty.” Yet the subsequent depictions portray the tick and ringworm as fairly innocent.

Given the title figure’s selfless actions in “Rocko’s Happy Vermin,” humanizing the parasites would seem uncharacteristic. When he is trying to de-louse his house, he demonstrates ethical boundaries. He hangs up on an overly enthusiastic exterminator on the grounds that, “I don’t want to hurt the little fellas. I just want them out of here.”

The reason the bugs infest his residence to begin with is because he stops himself from accidentally stepping on one, giving it the right of way. Hours later, the two meet at the same spot before Rocko’s staircase and exchange pleasantries. He also does not try the exterminator until after showing his uninvited guests cruise brochures.

Why, then, would he imagine himself polluting Bloaty and Squirmy’s air, steamrolling a brush through their habitat or flooding it? Is there any chance he hopes it will not kill them, but rather encourage them to relocate?

Not likely, given his agreement with the TV spokesman that Spunky’s residents are “nasty.” And as long as he does not see them, he is less inclined to sympathize with them.

Granted, Rocko is not always benevolent to bugs even when he sees and converses with them. While sleep-deprived, he threatens Flecko’s life in his first encounter with the fly. In their third and final run-in, he tries swatting him with a spatula.

Then again, those two scenes see the kindly wallaby quickly revert to his humanitarian instincts. He had only flipped out on Flecko for getting into his nose and later contaminating his prized AAA Outback patties. Unlike his heroic deed in between, namely sparing Flecko and friends from insectivore Ed Bighead, those are times when he does not wish to have bugs or their residue in his body.

Still, he offers to let or help the fly go unharmed, and only resumes the confrontation at the tiny pest’s provocation. Had he not been sleep-deprived in “Day of the Flecko,” he most likely would not have hopped on his jackhammer.

But literally and figuratively speaking, Bloaty and Squirmy are different animals from Flecko. They reside on Spunky full-time, and pose a potential threat to his health, even if they do not mean to.

Rocko is, at the very least, well aware that these are living things he is dealing with. If he is to employ even the smallest warlike side of him, this is the situation for it. His most loyal and one full-time live-in companion depends on him for top-notch hygiene.

None of those realities necessitate visions of vermin trying to live their lives amid Rocko-induced dangers. When they hang on for dear life while Spunky grips the bathroom ceiling, Rocko is preoccupied with getting his dog to cooperate. The only reason he might imagine that dramatic scene is if it feeds his hope that the petrified parasites will move out on their own.

Naturally, apart from a brief transfer to Rocko himself after the bath washes them out, the vermin stick to Spunky. Each time they return, their adventures are swayed by situations that send the dog to a veterinary setting.

In “Down the Hatch,” they move a lethal vitamin tablet from the dog’s digestive system to his ear. In “The Fatlands,” they explore a new frontier brought on by their host’s excessive weight gain.

Unless they constitute a unique coping mechanism, those subplots would not cross Rocko’s mind at such times. Not when he is looking to help Spunky lose weight, let alone racing against a 19-minute clock to stop him from exploding.

The latter scenario lends the greatest potential to the coping-mechanism theory. There is only so much Rocko can do to alleviate his anxiety. The thought of Bloaty and Squirmy pulling the tablet out of harm’s way when the vet cannot may be one method.

Of course, if the odd-couple parasites do not exist, that makes the vitamin’s life-saving move all the more mysterious. Not that it would matter to Rocko. If he has had no luck eradicating any kind of dog-bound parasites, it would be just like him to theorize a positive purpose for them.

With that said, the vitamin does relocate by means neither Rocko nor the vet could have enabled. In addition, the series of small explosions by less benevolent parasites who razed the tablet reaffirms the reality of Bloaty and Squirmy.

The vet and Heffer clearly see the popping as well. They just do not know that it is the culmination of the tick and ringworm’s exhibit gone wrong.

Rocko’s lack of understanding of what he sees is moot compared to his four-legged friend’s well-being. Based on what he knows and says about parasites in general, he cannot see — with his eyes or in his mind — how Bloaty and Squirmy may actually further that well-being. He can and does only vaguely wonder what Spunky’s residents are like while they work in their myserious ways.

Wallaby Wednesday: Spunky’s symbiosis with Bloaty and Squirmy

Disclaimer: This column is not intended to spread sympathetic misinformation on real-life parasites. Just as the conception of Bloaty and Squirmy on Rocko’s Modern Life took broad license in its depiction of household-pet bloodsuckers, we are here to assess its potential symbolism.

On that note, the opening scene in “Dirty Dog” packs dense food for thought in a constrained container. An anthropomorphic planet Earth grimaces and addresses an itch. From there, the camera zooms in to indicate Rocko’s house is the irritations’s epicenter.

And so sets off a stacking doll of parasites and hosts. For the bulk of this first-season segment, Spunky plays host to the debutante Bloaty and Squirmy. The best-buddy tick and ringworm present their show within the show, culminating in Bloaty scratching his own itch.

Between the planet and tick’s scratching scenes, then in two more appearances by Spunky’s primary parasites, the dog plays an Earthly role. And not unlike the humans (or humanoids) who walk this rock, Bloaty and Squirmy are not a full-time problem. Only select peers of theirs, particularly the mosquito-like Blood Brothers, deserve a villain tag.

The fact that Earth scratches over Rocko, a textbook embodiment of the phrase social conscience, sets a telling tone. The wallaby does enough good to eclipse his naturally negative impact on the planet. Why couldn’t the same balance apply to Spunky’s inhabitants?

In the odd-couple vermin’s first episode, Spunky scratches when they jump too hard or suck his blood. Granted, the latter act is unequivocally unwanted, given the risk of illness it poses to their host.

Then again, whether it is out of insufficient information or inconvenient necessity, even the most benevolent humans do the Earth a bit of harm by extracting and utilizing natural resources. They have a tiny role in precipitating poor air-quality, just as Bloaty and Squirmy prompt Rocko to spray Scum-Away. Or in bringing on other unwanted phenomena, such as the flood caused by Spunky’s bath.

But dog sweat is Bloaty and Squirmy’s beverage of choice more often, and a more environmentally conscious one at that. Though depicted as their equivalent of alcohol, nature dictates that they procure it through their version of the water cycle. Spunky, who has a history of efficiently lapping up his own drool, makes it happen by hydrating himself before perspiring.

Naturally, Spunky must be alive and healthy to keep that coming. One must therefore trust that Bloaty and Squirmy are generally mindful of their resources. Beyond that, they are intellectually curious about the mysteries of their home.

Whether that fascination prompts historical speculation or statements bearing religious undertones, it catalyzes a positive give-and-take relationship. Within their two appearances after “Dirty Dog,” the protagonist parasites trade a life-saving favor with their host. In so doing, each party does itself and its counterpart a favor all at once.

The plot of “Gut Instinct,” a special episode within Rocko’s “Down the Hatch” episode, begins with Heffer’s ill-advised action. The steer gravely endangers Spunky by feeding him a Fatheads vitamin. This even after he had learned the dire consequences of doing so by seeing what it did to another pet.

Fortunately, while Rocko races Spunky to a veterinary ER, Bloaty and Squirmy are boat-touring through their dog’s digestive streams. When they encounter the towering tablet, it assumes the mystique of a Mayan artifact. Intrigued by its commercial potential, they relocate it to Spunky’s ear, where it can do no harm.

No harm for the host, anyway. It is instantly lethal to any miniscule beings who so much as kiss and lick the object.

 

The first victim is Bloaty and Squirmy’s tour guide, who displays his affection for “my discovery” while plotting to keep it and all profits for himself. All subsequent explosions doom the rioters who accuse the exhibitors of scamming them and destroy the object with their mouths.

The result is a ghostly, post-apocalyptic vibe in Spunky’s ear. After speculating that the tablet is cursed, Squirmy, in his New York City accent, laments, “No. We were coised. Coised…with greed.”

Come what may, Squirmy deserves credit for swallowing his pride. In addition, a small measure of justice is served in that he and Bloaty are the only survivors. They are the ones who, however unwittingly, save Spunky’s life, arguably more than once. As callous as it sounds to any bug apologist, they may have slowed down any potential parasitic overpopulation.

This is not to assert that the other residents rightly died in “Down the Hatch.” None of them are shown to be an outstanding threat to their host’s health. But one could make that case against the Blood Brothers, the antagonists in the Wild West episode within the third-season episode, “The Fatlands.”

When Bloaty and Squirmy seek a new lifestyle, they are too quick to accept a co-sheriff position. With this being a Texas-like setting, perhaps the merciless mosquito gang is their pet planet’s answer to excessive oil drillers. They are arguably liable for too much harm to Spunky, and unquestionably power hungry at the expense of fellow parasites.

To that point, they waste little time carrying out their plot to kill the newcomers. They even use a petty technicality (daylight savings time) to deny their intended victims a chance to flee.

As a testament to their intimidation, they face no resistance from the incumbent townspeople. No one steps up to join Bloaty and Squirmy’s fight. With that, the Blood Brothers use their ample space, courtesy of Spunky’s concurrent weight gain, to carry out their deed away from civilization.

But that is when adaptability, quick wit and city street smarts serve the (comparative) heroes well. As his final request, Squirmy asks the killers to reprise the dance number they had demonstrated at the saloon.

Being “outdoors” implicitly makes the number more perilous, as the jumping is more likely to catch Spunky’s attention. The events of “Dirty Dog” have long established Bloaty and Squirmy’s understanding of that. That episode also depicts their familiarity with dangerous brushes and other objects that can sweep them away.

As the Blood Brothers quickly prove, they have no knowledge of these safety tips. Accordingly, Squirmy’s trick works, as Spunky scratches the terrible troika far away from Tickle Flats.

That makes the first “act of dog” to bail the (relatively) good bugs out. The other one, which Squirmy essentially prays for, comes when Spunky’s liposuction kicks in, bringing familiar territory back within walking distance.

That is the last of Bloaty and Squirmy within the Rocko chronicles. But Spunky’s improved physique and implied trajectory toward a better lifestyle exudes promise for all parties. Maybe now the pup will be more active, generating plenty of dog sweat and thus dissauding the bugs from drilling blood.

Wallaby Wednesday: How would the Rocko characters fare on Double Dare?

The title character and two secondary protagonists on Rocko’s Modern Life all have game-show experience. As it happens, they all fared well.

Rocko won the first phase of a new kitchen, Filburt a new dwelling and Heffer a trip “someplace warm.”

But what if they came together and tried winning a game show as a team? Among their saga’s Nickelodeon cohabitants, their best test would come via Double Dare.

Like the original, the current Double Dare typically pits teams of two. But for this scenario, we shall go with the quad-squad formats of Family Double Dare (whose original run nearly overlapped with Rocko’s) and Double Dare 2000.

To set this hypothetical crossover in motion, let us assume Heffer proposes auditioning. Of the three buddies, he is the most eager to get on TV, as previously evidenced by his (however unwitting) transaction with Peaches. And even when Rocko entered the trivia contest for a kitchen, he did so at Heffer’s behest.

For a little drama, let us imagine Heffer draws extra determination from competing against his adoptive family. Perhaps the Wolfes have ruled him out for reasons similar to when they had fallen on hard times and chosen to rent out his room in “Bedfellows.” Or maybe George is disciplining Heffer over a given immature or mischievous act gone too far.

Come what may, there are already two parents and two biological pups filling their Double Dare roster. However fairly or unfairly, they get priority over their household’s adopted man-calf.

Under this premise, the steer would be the de facto captain of his own team, for better or worse. But what would he and his friends bring to the table? What follies would each player need to work to minimize? And maybe most crucially, who should they enlist as their fourth player?

To answer all three questions, here is the Double Dare scouting report for every Team Heffer prospect.

 

Heffer

Heffer would be helpless in the trivia portions of Double Dare. His stint on Triple 6 typifies his to-a-fault exuberance. And even if he bothers to look before leaping, he likely would not know many answers anyway.

All of that might trip up his determination to defeat the Wolfes and avenge his perceived slight. With that said, if his teammates take charge of formulating and communicating answers, Heffer can save his energy for the physical challenges. This is where the opposition may underestimate him at their own peril, for the Wolfes only seem to know him as a couch potato.

Heffer’s ample physique is not all built on empty calories. He has shown a decent share of strength and stamina before, such as when he raced Rocko to the hospital in “Tickled Pinky.” Moreover, in less urgent situations, he has a history of translating his compete level to impressive athleticism.

Look no further than his regal status at the roller rink for his potential aptitude in this department. His surprising deftness on the ski slopes, especially in contrast to Rocko, is nothing to overlook either.

The team may not get a chance or feel the need to take an in-game physical challenge. But remember that those also start each of the two rounds, with points and control of the board at stake. If and when pies or other realistic-looking faux edibles are involved, Heffer would have that much more incentive.

 

Rocko

Heffer’s aforementioned sprint to the hospital was prompted by the sudden onset of Rocko’s appendicitis. That incident derailed their day at a jackhammering convention.

But when healthy, Rocko is a prize-winning competitor in that hobby. As such, he too ought to come in handy during Double Dare’s physical challenges.

His unprecedented victory in a rigged carnival game furthers that notion, as does his persistence in the contests that remained futile. Being in better shape than Heffer, he should also have better range on the challenges. Ditto the various stages of the obstacle course, which his team would divide if they make it that far.

Then again, an O-Townized version of Double Dare would likely entail an obstacle course along the lines of the aforementioned roller rink. To get through that, Rocko may require a few fortuitous falls.

But on Double Dare, completing the obstacle course is an extra victory. Getting there requires besting the opposition on a combination of triva and physical challenges. Rocko is learned enough to lead his team on the former, although his game-show sample size does not tell much. He defeated an inanimate can of baked beans and a marble-missing man named Nutsy on a comic-book question.

Then again, if his team draws questions on, say, world cultures, the floor should be all Rocko’s.

 

Filburt

Filburt’s suspectibility to stage fright, nausea and hives may make him the team’s greatest liability. Fortunately for his sake, this is not an individual competition, unlike his other appearances before live audiences.

Physical challenges and certain stages of the obstacle course may faze Filburt regardless. But when the team huddles to determine trivia answers, he too will have a good chance at hitting on a forte. Mechanics and avian biology are merely two of his numerous outside interests that could come in handy at any moment.

Unless he opens an ominous fortune cookie ahead of the taping, Filburt should not go in entirely devoid of confidence. Nor will he necessarily be on his viewers’ bad side, as he was when he appeared on Mega-Spin. In addition, this is not nearly as consequential as his dental-school final.

The reduced pressure alone should at least provide a semblance of advantage. And while Buddy Gecko would not be of much help here, on tape or in person, Filburt will have Rocko, Heffer and a third teammate by his side.

On that note, who should that at-large ally be? Furthermore, if Filburt is ruled too anxious to compete, who fills that void?

 

Paula or Bev

Besides his two longtime friends, who better than his soul mate to calm Filburt’s nerves?

Beyond intangible support, Dr. Hutchison would bring a brimful skill set to Heffer’s Double Dare team. Her feline acrobatics and versatile combination of paws and hooks exude promise for the physical challenges and obstacle course.

In addition, she has doubtlessly picked up an ample range of practical and trivial knowledge in her countless career stops. Ditto the protracted educational path she must have followed to attain her degree(s).

By the same token, Hutch may decide she is too busy with work and/or taking care of her and Filburt’s children. For that reason, maybe they should consider letting Filburt watch the kids while their mother prepares and competes.

Or, considering how much more work she does than Filburt in and out of the house, Paula may simply feel better served taking a more relaxing break from her grueling job and enjoying the game from the audience.

In that event, Bev Bighead is the next-best choice. More often than not, she is all but the polar opposite of her crotchety husband in seeking fun activities like this. The way she earned the distinction of “genius” by filling in for Ed at Conglom-O all but verifies her value in the show’s trivia portion.

Maybe most importantly, if and when Heffer and/or Filburt take their excitement too far, a seasoned mother figure could help Rocko rein them in like no one else. Having both Bev and Paula working with Rocko to that effect with Heffer alone could arguably boost their odds all the more.

Was Smash Mouth’s ‘All Star’ the ultimate millennium wraparound hit?

Smash Mouth became more kid-friendly while going all-out to inoculate itself against the one-hit wonder label.

Before too long, the Bay Area band was a regular in the music-video portions of the TEENick programming block. Before blossoming into a standalone offshoot of Nickelodeon spelled TeenNick, the block started occupying Sunday evenings in 2001. Touting its appeal, an up-and-coming host named Nick Cannon would say, “Technically, Sunday night is still the weekend, right?”

Yes, it is. Likewise, 1999 was still the ’90s, and still the 20th century. For that matter, the latter was also true of the year 2000.

This despite the overeager, saccharine speculation of great change in Y2K that began no later than New Year’s 1998-99. For its part, the self-proclaimed “first kids network” was letting young voices envision the transformative future through its Nickellenium campaign.

But in mid-spring, 20 years ago Saturday, Smash Mouth released a single that would uniquely bridge 1999, 2000, 2001 and arguably beyond. To that point, in December 2017, GQ’s Joya Saxena penned a piece titled “The Internet’s Endless Obsession with Smash Mouth’s ‘All Star.’”

“All Star” wasted negligible time annihilating its band’s concerns over premature obscurity. Through its second album, Astro Lounge, released in full in June 1999, Smash Mouth proved much more than “Walkin’ on the Sun.”

With some newer songs, it became more mainstream, in no small part, due to its newfound appropriateness for younger demographics. That alteration could not have been timelier.

With “All Star,” in particular, you can say the group “hit the ground running” amidst a period of ample anticipation. The single opened itself to inspiring interpretation in copious contexts while addressing outlooks on the future.

For this author, the song was the gateway to any knowledge of or interest in the band. Concomitant with the 1999 FIFA Women’s World Cup, which culminated in a dramatic Team USA victory in Smash Mouth’s home state, “All Star” found natural hospitality in a Gatorade commercial.

 

The company’s trademark marketing tactic of modern-looking black-and-white montages accentuating its beverage’s color highlighted young female soccer players. To embolden the empowerment behind the onscreen grit and oomph, the soundtrack went something like this:

Well…so much to do, so much to see, so what’s wrong with taking the backstreets

You’ll never know if you don’t go, you’ll never shine if you don’t glow

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play

Hey now, you’re a rockstar, get the show on, get paid

(And all that glitters is gold)

Only shooting stars break the mo-old!

The montage closed with a superimposed tagline tag team of “Yes we can” and the unmistakable “Is it in you?”

To any unabashed sports-music junkie, this was perfect. The hook/chorus sounded perfectly suited for filling brief breaks in the action at a given game. Its tempo alone was pulsating enough, and that is generally all that matters for canned arena music.

But the emphasis on the title was the syrup on the sundae, and it worked in athletic and non-athletic arenas. Just as sports are said to teach life lessons, songs appropriated by athletic cultures can transcend competitive fields. All they need are a listener in need of bright motivation, and the band itself has blessed this interpretation.

Smash Mouth’s members, particularly head songwriter Greg Camp, have long admitted they did not intend “All Star” as a sports anthem. But when it inevitably caught on as one, they embraced the byproduct.

In July 1999, they played it live at the Home Run Derby on the eve of the MLB All-Star Game. The next winter, they clearly did not mind ABC using it to promote its coverage of the NHL’s midseason constellation. For the league, the network and the time, that was basically an obligatory tactic.

Through that game’s January build-up to and first-weekend-of-February arrival, the times still felt like the ’90s. Meanwhile, the third installment of Now That’s What I Call Music!, for which “All Star” batted lead-off, was still being hawked on TV following its December 1999 release. (Last October, in a retrospective ranking, The Ringer declared “All Star” that compilation’s “most essential song.”)

On the other side of the official millennium switch, the single kept striking media gold. Tellingly, the timing of its noteworthy 2001 silver-screen spots underscore Saxena’s point about “the ultimate in pre-9/11 fluff pop.”

 

“All Star” opened Shrek, which had its wide release on May 18, 2001. It then closed out Rat Race, which opened in mid-August that year.

By that point, the world was implicitly ready to join Smash Mouth in immersing itself in a new era. The group’s third album, whose production was marred by the tragic July passing of lead singer Steve Harwell’s infant son, was to cap off with their cover of “I’m a Believer,” which gave the band its bookend in Shrek.

From there, mainstream recognition was all but restricted to more overlaps with Mike Myers movies. During the 2000s, Smash Mouth songs saw action in such middling performers as Austin Powers in Goldmember and critical flops as The Cat in the Hat.

“I’m a Believer” and a smattering of original tunes from the third and fourth album (2003’s Get the Picture) kept the band in TEENick’s rotation for a time. But after 2001’s Volume 8, it did not make the cut for any more installments of Now. That is except for 2007’s Now That’s What I Call Shrek, which began with, what else?

Two years before that, while churning out new material in comparative oblivion, the group made “All Star” the leadoff and partial title track to All Star Smash Hits. That was the only breach of chronology in Smash Mouth’s best-of collection from its first four albums and contributions to film soundtracks.

But Shrek has not singlehandedly kept Camp’s magnum opus glowing online. As recently as March 2019, “All Star” and its meaning have been a subject of academic dissection. Within the past year, it has formed the basis for a stage musical and a hotline that perpetually plays the song when you dial it up.

Based on that, to millennials nostalgic for the turn of the millennium, “All Star” might be what “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” is to Marshall Eriksen. It could be their answer to the 2000 Homer Simpson’s “Takin’ Care of Business.” Can’t you picture someone demanding, “No new crap! ‘All Star!’ Now!” and “Get to the ‘shooting stars break the mold’ part!”?

When you make like Ethan Dixon or Thom Dunn by analyzing the lyrics (both from the rough and final draft) and the song’s initial cultural impact, you can understand why. Back in 1999, you could not escape the ad nauseam future and new-millennium talk if you tried. (Oops, wrong Smash Mouth song.)

When 2000 hit and people finally admitted there was another year in the century, discussion leaders pushed the reset button. (There I go again, this time with “Satellite,” which followed “All Star” on the Astro Lounge track listing.)

But as it happened, the optimism and manufactured mystique typified Lewis Black’s later assessment of Anticipation. In his 2007 stand-up album of that title, the top-notch comedian contrasted the absence and presence of 20/20 hindsight before and after an awaited event. (Caution: NSFW language.)

Not long after the new millennium took hold, disenchanted people, especially in younger age groups, were emotionally hungover and vomiting. If we believed the hype, we had gone in thinking these would be the greatest times of change ever. Those who felt any apprehension on the side of excitement during the anticipation were proven right.

Now we wanted to recreate or recapture our last bastions of innocence. For that, 1999 was our best bet, since it was the best time of change. It was also when Smash Mouth cemented its stint in the mainstream with a largely optimistic take on unpleasant developments. It all begins by defying an imagined naysayer.

At the time, elders were stereotypically telling the youth that anything was possible and we were all exuding potential. Conversely, Camp wrote and Harwell sang, “Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed.”

On the other hand, they subsequently question this Debbie Downer’s lack of credibility based on her lowbrow “loser” gesture. They then offer a neutral reality that “The years start coming and they don’t stop coming.”

As plain and inescapable as that fact may be, it was a lot to take in when all four digits were about to change at the next Times Square ball drop. And when news and sports tickers started noting contracts and agreements stretching into the late 2000s or even the 2010s, one wondered how years of those numbers could possibly arrive. It felt so much more foreign and distant than it was.

But those years did lie ahead. They were (or are) to come and go like all of their predecessors. Smash Mouth was therefore right when it went on to sing that there is “so much to do, so much to see.” At the time, one could have taken part of the song’s message to mean that the dawn of a new millennium need not be a beginning or an end of anything. It can be a continuation.

Naturally, the reality proved a monumental mixed bag of all three. But fittingly, “All Star” bolstered Smash Mouth’s prominence through each of the next two years. It did so through the unique quadruple-digit overhaul to the calendar, then through the bona fide change in century.

That stretch proved crucial amidst the wait for their third album, Smash Mouth, which was produced before 9/11 but hit the shelves two months afterward. Virtually everything from the band’s post-Astro Lounge era was inevitably synonymous with a new age. The ’90s had already died by every definition of the word.

The band followed its own example by glowing and shining as best it could while it could. Still, the sunset and midday down-on-Earth backdrops to Smash Mouth and Get the Picture were no match for Astro Lounge’s dark-blue space skies.

That, in turn, had been a marked improvement on the pitch-black imagery and content of Fush Yu Mang. The second album and signature song’s broad outreach and approving reception confirm as much.

 

Smash Mouth had produced its definitive output, and that was never to be redefined. To that point, a cover of “All Star” was the soundtrack to overseas TV commercials as late as 2004.

That should come as no surprise given how far and wide the band aimed with the song. As Camp told Carl Wiser of Songfacts in January 2017, “It applies to anyone who’s trying to make it while all those people are saying, ‘Oh, you want to be a professional basketball player? Haha. Good luck. That’s going to be really tough. It’s like the chances are two million to one.’ And it’s like, ‘No, no, don’t listen to them. Just go do it.’”

By writing, producing and performing that message, they followed their own example in the name of challenging L-forming skeptics. Looking back, they might as well have also been giving themselves their own pep talk to savor their peak.

Even when that was over, and times were comparatively trying, they would need a reference point to make the most of what they still had. If possible, they could even adapt, as they did between Fush Yu Mang and Astro Lounge.

The ice we skate is getting pretty thin

The water’s getting warm so you might as well swim
My world’s on fire, how ’bout yours
That’s the way I like it and I never get bored

Two decades into this millennium, things have a way of getting jading. But for better or worse, they are not exactly boring, for many are aggravating, infuriating or worrisome. Some may be all of the above.

For the resultant ailments, the best reliever on the ’90s nostalgia shelf is from the era’s tail end. In an April 2017 chat with VICE’s Sarah Emerson, Camp granted a few heavy streaks in the lyrics. Part of the message, he told her is, “to enjoy your youth because life continues to get harder with age.”

But he went on to conclude, “I guess the sentiment is: life is short, see the world, enjoy the action, get involved, be extraordinary, and don't let haters get you down.”

With that, “All Star” kept one foot in the ever-brief present while daringly setting the other into the not-too-distant, yet ostensibly upside-down future. That gamble paid off to the tune of continued peak popularity deep into 2001.

And now its shelf life is still sufficient for independent individuals to evoke it on athletic all-star occasions. It remains the subject of retrospectives even in the song’s non-milestone months and years. It is even worth having in handy via hotline.

As Saxena concluded in her 2017 GQ write-up, through their signature song and accompanying music video, Harwell and company “remain earnest and hopeful in the face of change.”

The face of change may never have been bigger, or at least more magnified, than when Y2K loomed and arrived. It made sense that “All Star” fit so effortessly into the middle of 1999.

But like the years, the change never stops coming. By the same token, the song’s appeal ought to last as long as our central celestial ball.

Visions of giant and endless clean slates did not hurt when the future inflated its image. They can come in handy for anyone at any time now or later too.

Wallaby Wednesday: 17 more signs of a Rocko devotee

Wallaby Wednesday hits another milestone, as this edition brings the column up to 17 installments in total.

As this author acknowledged when this space broke double digits, 17 is a magic number in the Rocko’s Modern Life chronicles. In a cathartic coincidence, the same 17-year gap marked an important banana’s isolation in a fridge and Rocko, Heffer and Spunky’s outer-space detour. Then again, maybe the fates brought the lost O-Townies home as a reward for Filburt’s children freeing the fruit.

Like the first list of this kind, the release of our second scroll of 17 signs of a Rocko fanatic come amidst a similarly protracted wait for the saga’s resumption. TV audiences’ wait for a new adventure sits at 23 years, five months and change.

As of this posting, there is still no official word on Static Cling. The question of the TV movie getting the banana’s rightful release treatment keeps teetering between when and if.

Because of this continued uncertainty, the itch is liable to manifest itself more intensely among the show’s loyal viewers. On that note, if any of these actions or propensities sound like you, count yourself among the restless Rocko devotees. This way you can explain yourself to perplexed bystanders who helplessly don’t get it.

1. When faced with the choice of an escalator or staircase, you play the voice of “Granny Rocko” in your head.

2. In an honest Freudian slip, you once referred to the Boy Scouts or Cub Scouts as the “Weasel Scouts.” Or maybe more than once.

3. In another honest Freudian slip, you have referred to the late actor Joan Crawford as Joan Crawfish (or Crayfish).

4. You can only think of Bloaty and Mr. Icck when you see the clip of Mary Richards mistaking her supervisor’s scathing statement, “You’ve got spunk,” for a compliment.

5. Before embarking on a fishing outing, you suggest using cheese in lieu of live bait. If that is the case, you are either not thinking things through or hoping to encounter an anthropomorphic giant squid.

6. Upon hearing of a real-life ButtMaster exercise product, you second-naturedly chanted, “And a one! And a two!” (As it happened, the real-life workout equipment came to prominence circa 1995-96, one year after Rocko and Heffer’s go-to choice of paid programming became a recurring gag.)

7. Any sighting or mention of lima beans elicits a comically horrified scream from you. For those who are not Rocko devotees but want to know the signs of one, should see the 1:56 mark of this video.

8. You have visited Detroit and left feeling unfulfilled because you could not find the Toe Jam Towers. Either that, or you spurned the idea of checking out Motown to begin with, knowing no such landmark exists.

9. Whenever #powertrip trends on Twitter, you can only think of Rocko’s Smitty-esque moral downturn.

10. When you hear about an upcoming TV airing of Sausage Party, you ask yourself when you last saw “Wacky Delly.” And if you ever get a chance, you will ask Seth Rogen if he has seen that show. “The first season, that is. Before that new guy ruined it.”

11. When ordering meatloaf, you request a “spongy, yet firm” texture and pineapples for “a festive touch.”

12. Since 1994, “Love Shack” has, at best, taken second place among your ranking of the top B-52s songs.

13. Any time you pass by an Elks Lodge, you wish you had a pair of twigs in handy. Maybe if you glued them to your head, they could pass as antlers and get you into the club. Furthermore, when someone quotes Daffy Duck’s “I am elk, shoot me!” tirade, you kindly ask, “Don’t you mean, ‘I’m an elk! I have antlers!’?”

14. After studying Kubla Khan in an English class, you decide to pen a ballad on Mortimer Khan for your free-rein creative project. Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s poem about the palace of Genghis’ grandson is an undeniable classic. With that said, you feel someone should write of Genghis’ forgotten son, why he is forgotten and who he blamed.

15. If you still prefer models like Sansui TVM1315 over HD flatscreens, you affectionately call your TV set Mr. Sensible.

16. When you are in a state of undress and no one else is in your residence, you channel Heffer’s jail-cell whimper. For that matter, the same goes for when you notice Discovery is showing Naked and Afraid.

17. You are wary of granting anyone’s request for a high five. That is until you remember the Quarnozian High Five of Death is a misnomer. The creators and doomed recipients of the gesture only have four digits on their fingers. By that logic, a high five should still be innocuous in this world. Shouldn’t it?