Once My Looks Go, I've Got Nothing

I've written in the past about my Halloween village display , an October decorative tradition stretching back so long that I vividly remember listening to Candlebox while setting it up at one point. In recent years, however, I've been facing a bit of a dilemma. Having expanded far beyond its humble Oriental Trading Co. origins, the current scope of the village in terms of sheer volume of options is quite vast, and as a result, I've had to make some difficult decisions. At first, I considered doing a significant expansion of the display, either in the form of one super-huge village or two entirely separate displays. In the end, space and time concerns (plus an injured back) led me to another approach: a single, highly focused village with a cohesive theme. Although this sadly led to the exclusion of many of the older pieces the very concept if this village was based around, I think I was able to put together one of my best displays yet! I'll let you be the judge. First,

As each evening creeps slightly deeper into the afternoon and bratwurst is back on the menu at Wienerschnitzel, I find autumn on my mind, and in honor of the encroaching Halloween season, I feel the need to give a bit of praise to one of the preeminent old school horror story anthologies. And for once, I’m not referring to Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark . No, despite Scary Stories being the king of the hell hill in this particular genre, there was another notable series concurrently haunting the pages of the Scholastic Book Club flyer alongside it. In fact, the first volume of this series even predates the original Scary Stories by several years!      I’m speaking, of course of Tales for the Midnight Hour , J.B. Stamper’s seminal quadrilogy of terror that caused many a juvenile some sleepless nights with its harrowing depictions of murder, monsters and madness. I used to think of Stamper as a bit of an enigma, an author who dropped their magnum opus, followed it up with a lesser-k

      I started playing Magic: The Gathering back in the fall of 1994 (which was probably still a little too late, from a value perspective, but bear with me here). Unlike many people who got sucked in during the initial wave of mania surrounding the game, I never sold my collection. This ended up paying off for me, unlike, say, Beanie Babies collectors from the same era, who are still waiting for their time to shine. Actually, I'm sort of one of those too, having pillaged my mom's storage locker after she passed away for collectibles that might help mitigate the funeral costs, but let me tell you, the Princess Diana bear is still not worth anything despite pre-TNA Don West's promises of yore and internet urban legend . But anyway.      Magic cards from back then are increasingly scarce, is my point. And though I don't have anything as brain-meltingly expensive as, say, the fabled Alpha Black Lotus, I just so happen to own something quite a bit more scarce. As in, some

                When Disneyland announced its plans to reopen in a reduced capacity for California residents after a lengthy COVID closure, I couldn't help but think that said reopening might prove to be a truly unforgettable experience due to a confluence of circumstances unique to this place and time. For starters, the limited number of guests allowed at the park was sure to result in shorter wait times for the park's attractions, even taking into account that some of them (like the Matterhorn Bobsleds) would be out of commission. I was also very curious to see firsthand how the park would change its operations to accommodate current public safety restrictions. Of course, I was excited at the possibility of visiting the newest, Star Wars -themed land, which had not been open on my last visit, and of experiencing rides that I had either so far missed (the Cars racers ride in California Adventure comes to mind) or that had been changed/upgraded in the interim (like the Haunted