Second Edition Saturday - Some "Uvver" stuff from the past...

Sorry that posting frequency has been somewhat lax lately.  I have had a bad case of RL, and for some reason, I have a notion  that planting a garden and getting the yard the way my wife wants, and spending time with my family is more important than a blog about my hobbies/thoughts! 
 *To my son and wife - I love you!*     ;-)  

So here we are on a Second Edition Saturday.  Although there are countless things I could write about from Rogue Trader and Second and Third Editions, I am going to take a break from that and throw the next few week’s articles in the “Uvver Stuff” category.  You have been warned.  

Don’t worry, we are still going to jump in the time machine, and go back to the 80’s…just not focusing on the things you thought.  (Hey, I gotta keep things fresh from time to time, even if "fresh" means other old things."

The year is 1984.  You are hungry, and mom and dad (or guardian) decide because you have been a good boy/girl, you can go to McDonalds.  (Some of you may have been old enough to take yourself there in 1984, if so, then turn up the oxygen and just enjoy the ride Gramps!)  

Some of my "friends" from the past.

Do you remember what just the mere thought of going to McDonalds would do to a kid?  (Still has this affect. – ed.)  I always knew that I would be getting either a plain hamburger happy meal or a chicken nugget happy meal.  This was before the “fat pandemic” and we were not worried about cholesterol or fat content.  Heck, we didn’t even worry about the poison coming from the containers that the food was stored in.  Remember the Styrofoam containers?  You know the ones.  Here’s a pic for your bad memory.

I can almost smell the grease now...

Just stepping in the restaurant, the smell of French fries and greasy burgers would pummel your nose into making your mouth smile.  The sound of organized chaos ensuing behind the counter, with the noise coming from the Playland, and the sight of the current week’s happy meal toys, were enough to drive any kid into a glassy eyed delirium of joy and haze of happiness.  

Mom would order, while I would go play in the magical Playland.  I would love climbing into the Big Mac (can’t remember his name) guy, and pretending it was a space ship. 

This thing still looks cool to me...the door was around the back....3,2,1...blastoff!

 Then running over to a Grimace that sat on springs and had bars encircling him, (was this a playland or a jail?)  I would shake around until my young attention span turned towards the slide.

The grimace jail...did you know that originally Grimace was a "bad" guy?...

and the slide...always fun if the other things were "taken"

Then there were the fry guy and fish riders, those were ok as well...

Of course, the ones I rode as a kid had a better paint job...

 “Mark, time to eat!  You can play afterwards!”  That’s ok, "the real playtime" is for when you are done eating. 

Sitting down at the table, I would instantly wonder what toy I got.  Opening the box, I would dig through the food, and give it to mom, who would make my “special fry tray” by pouring the fries into the top of the container for my nuggets/hamburger.  (I still do that)  Pulling the toy out and seeing what I got was always a joy, even if it was a “repeat” (cause then, I could have an “evil twin” for whatever toy it was.) 

Of course, I couldn’t open it or play with it until we were done eating, but that’s ok, I am with Mom and Dad and sis…looking down at the different characters on the placemat, and wondering in my young brain…  “How does Hamburgerler keep escaping?”  Don’t they have maximum security prisons in McDonald land?”  And, “Why can’t he talk, I mean, robble, robble?  What is that supposed to mean?”

How many can you name?

If I was good, we would get a pie to eat.  I don’t mean the crazy baked pies now. 

Remember what the pies were when they were good?  You know you do.  The deep fried, heart-attack inducing, fattening, so bad its good for you, flaky, greasy treat that they were then pales in comparison to the “new” pies. 

mmmm....

 If we weren’t in a food comma after finishing “dessert”, we could go play for a little bit (the aforementioned "real playtime"), and then go home to play with the new happy meal toy.  (If I was lucky enough, mom would let me keep the box to take home for a few days.)

 That is it for the journey into the McDonalds past.  I don’t know about you, but I want to start a letter campaign to McDonalds to bring back the deep fried pies…

Next Week:  Hostess Snacks.