Deigh Visits The Exorcist House

I am an unapologetic movie geek. Ever since I was two, I have loved the movies. One of my earliest memories is seeing  Star Wars in the theater, with my dad, in 1977. Since then, I have found solace, wonder, and magic on the silver screen. I remember the first time I saw Raiders, the first movie I ever went to by myself (Back to the  Future), the first “R” rated movie I ever went to legally (Predator), and the first time I saw Disney’s Peter Pan. Movies have touched my heart, effected my worldview, given me hope that the geek could get the girl, and challenged my thoughts and beliefs. I have strived to be part of the process since I was a kid. I have worked hard, trying to be a part of the biz.

When I was a teenager I would watch at least one movie a day, tearing through everything from Casablanca to The Garbage Pail Kids. Later on, when I worked for a movie theater, I sometimes would go to two or three movies on a lazy Saturday. Some of my best jokes have been directly plagiarized from movies. I have bought movie props, relished movie trivia, and read books on the masters and their craft.

Whenever I get a chance to visit a shootingllocation, I jump at it. There is a strange, almost mystical connection to a film when you stand in the place where it was shot. It changes the attachment to the movie. Plus it is just cool – from a historical perspective.

Recently, I was in Georgetown, at this intersection: Continue reading

New Soda From Pennsylvania – Frozen Run Review Along With An Accidental Candy Cigarette Retrospective

The last time I was in a play was at a local community theater, in a small suburb of the town that I lived in and we had rehearsals three nights a week. Nearby was a local mom and pop gas station that sold the original Necco candy cigarettes.

I loved these things! I would run over there before rehearsals and stock up. Then I would sit around like a cool kid and suck on the white stick with the pink tip, and my lungs had absolutely no damage. I must have cleared out their entire stock of goods during the three weeks of rehearsals and the four week run of the show.

Now there are many brands of candy cigarettes – more than you might realize unless you are a true candy cigarette aficionado like myself.

Unfortunately, most of these taste like you went to an old, abandoned elementary school, broke out a ground floor window, climbed through, made your way through all the mice and spiderwebs to one of the chalkboards on the far wall of the classroom, and found an old broken piece of Dixon Waltham chalk and stuck it in your mouth.

Oh, but not  Necco candy cigarettes. It’s not the shape, or the idea of edible cigarettes. I don’t like to pretend like I am Nick Nolte from Cape Fear, puffing away at hard sugar like a hefty kid with a Pixie Stick.

To me, it doesn’t really matter if you call them candy stix, candy cigarettes, or candy heroin pipettes. I just like the taste. It’s a kind of a mellow peppermint that is both simple, yet luxurious, and as a bonus, there was always that little pink dot on the end to break up the monotony. Yes, I realize that the dot was there to symbolize the cherry, but it just kind of made  the sticks seem . . . I don’t know . . . cooler . . .

If that wasn’t awesome enough, Necco also perfected the smooth texture. These sticks did not have the crumbly, chalky instability of the “other” brands. These were firm candy sticks with just the right crunchiness to them.

The original Necco Stix or Cigarettes, or whatever had cool names like: Dinosaur, Supersonic, and Hawk and looked like this:

Dinosaurs candy stix

Continue reading

I GOT MY LIME ICEE!

SO I had to run to Target today. OK, not really. I just wanted to.

I wanted that Lime Icee, darnit, and I was gonna get one. I made up some lame excuse to my wife about picking up some medicine or some other such nonsense, and then hopped in my car and drove to . . . THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN (dun dun dun).

And there, at the snack bar, in all its pristine red, white, and blue glory was the ICEE MACHINE, with four flavors gleaming under the florescent glare of the fixtures above. Only one flavor caught my eye – Sublime.

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Now, two things threw me off my game a little bit.

Number one, the Icee that I remember was just called LIME, nothing fancy or hoity-toity (yes, that is how you spell it. I Googled it). This was Sublime. Could there be a difference? Just what did the sub add to my lime?

But it did appear to be the right color, and I had gone to far to turn back, now.

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Numero dose, the stupid flashing red defrost light was on.

I hate that light.

Many a possible refreshing, frosty Icee encounter has been thawed due to the annoyance of there being absolutely no schedule by which these lights appear.

Don’t you think it would make sense to say that, oh, I don’t know, maybe every afternoon at 4:23 on the dot, we will defrost this machine, so don’t come around here expecting an Icee at 4:24, bub, these things take 25 minutes or more to go through their cycle?

Instead, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason that these things decide to defrost. I have asked every Icee clerk in town to tell me when their machine would defrost. Do you know how many were able to tell me?

That’s right. None. Zero. Natta.

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Of course, this time, my enrapture of finding my lost childhood summer love impaired my vision. I decided to go for it, anyway. . .

Which is why I ended up with a foamy soup in my cup, a sticky arm, and a mop in my hand, cleaning Target’s snack bar floor for free.

Twenty minutes later, the red light finally went off.

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Success!

With a trembling hand I lifted the plastic red straw to my mouth.

I took a deep breath, and a light sip.

The sensation of cold and sweet lept onto my pallet like a really sweet, really cold thing that leaps. As the taste of lime filled me to the brim, Icouldn’t help but ask myself if this flavor had tasted so creamy and delicious eight years ago. The answer was: heck freakin’ yes!

Thank you, Target.

See you tomorrow.