To the glee of horror aficionados, Shudder’s CREEPSHOW is teeming with Easter eggs, and no episode filled the basket quite like the Season 2 debut chaser, “Public Television of the Dead.”
The set-up alone was intoxicating. A play on ANTIQUES ROADSHOW featuring EVIL DEAD veteran Ted Raimi querying about a book he’d had “in [his] fruit cellar for years.” Of course, Raimi was playing himself, the book in question was the Necronomicon, and the Pittsburgh-based station (hello Romero reference) even featured a program with a puppet named–you guessed it–Henrietta. When the host of THE APPRAISER’S ROAD TRIP began reading the “wretched incantations,” all hell broke loose. But in the next studio, a gentleman who struck a striking resemblance to Bob Ross was filming, not THE JOY OF PAINTING but THE LOVE OF PAINTING. Played to placid perfection by Mark Ashworth, the character of Norm Roberts was merely Ross’ given name rearranged: Robert Norman Ross.
Fresh off a floating and brilliantly delivered “pledge to us,” Raimi’s Deadite wandered onto Roberts’ set, and the calm craftsman immediately leapt to action, confronting Raimi with a cool “I don’t know who you are, sir. But if you’re not gonna behave, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” Battle ensued. From a 2-inch brush to paint thinner and making a Gattling gun out of a snowblower, Norm went full MacGuyver, utilizing the tools of his trade to decimate Deadites. “We’re gonna beat the Devil out of you.” To the surprise of no one, Roberts saved the day, and his show–which was slated for cancellation–went national.
On its face, the premise of the episode seems outlandish, but it’s closer to the truth than you might think. The Roberts character was supposed to be a Vietnam veteran who fought on the front lines of the Tet Offensive in 1968, and believe it or not, Ross was a service veteran. Joining the United States Air Force in 1961, the not-yet-permed-painter was a medical records technician before being stationed in Alaska where he discovered a love for the snow and mountains that would inhabit so many of his works. Ross rose to the rank of master sergeant, but after acting as the heavy who was “the guy who makes you scrub the latrine, the guy who makes you make your bed, the guy who screams at you for being late to work,” upon discharge Ross vowed he would never raise his voice again.
Simply stated, “Public Television of the Dead” was a love letter to Ross. THE JOY OF PAINTING aired for eleven years (1983-1994) and thanks to its magical host, enjoys a cult following to this day. Bob Ross’ official YouTube channel has over 5.6 million subscribers as of October 26, and one episode alone–the Season 29 opener–boasts of 45 million views. And by the way, the color code for Van Dyke brown is #664228. If you know, you know.
Who among us doesn’t reflect on childhood afternoons watching in awe as Ross painted amazing scene after amazing scene, his words of encouragement and love a ray of sunshine acting as a soothing salve for the lashes of life. To this day, when I need a calm voice to help slow my mind so I can sleep, I pull up an episode of THE JOY OF PAINTING because Bob Ross was who we–and episode writer Rob Schrab–thought he was: a superhero.
“I think each of us, sometime in our life, has wanted to paint a picture.” For many of us, it’s because Bob Ross existed. The serene sculptor would have been 81 today, and as we celebrate the memory of someone who touched us all, we echo Ashworth’s Roberts: “good night, day. Thank you for everything.”
“If precautions weren’t strong enough you should have told somebody.”
“I TOLD EVERYBODY! Nobody listened.”
Ironic that HALLOWEEN purists overwhelmingly detest the Rob Zombie re-imaginings because something the polarizing filmmaker once said in an interview with WatchMojo.com perfectly encapsulates Samuel Loomis:
“You just have to go through life knowing you’re right and everyone else can go fuck themselves.”
Whether it was colleagues questioning his observations or local law enforcement scoffing at his warnings, Dr. Loomis (Donald Pleasence) found his assertions challenged at every turn. After all, why would anybody believe the one person who’d spent every day for fifteen years with Michael Aubrey Myers? Time and again the good doctor was met with “probably going” and “I have the feeling you’re way off on this,” but Loomis persisted because sometimes being a leader means having the strength to stand alone.
Sheriff Brackett (Charles Cyphers) referred to Loomis’ words of foreboding as “fancy talk,” but when you appear paranoid and desperate due to a lack of diagnostic evidence, describing the things you’ve seen over the course of a decade-and-a-half is the only weapon at your disposal. Call it fancy talk, but there was nothing fancy about the knot in Loomis’ stomach telling him that he was right.
In vain, Loomis shared those experiences–his fancy talk–desperate for someone, anyone to listen, much less believe him. Despite his efforts, Loomis was met with rejection. Tales of silent alarms and a blank, pale, emotionless face were met with “if you are right, damn you for letting him go” when Loomis was the only one trying to keep Michael Myers locked up, and certainly the only one exerting energy to stop the impending massacre.
But Loomis didn’t let the opinions of others hinder him. The determined doctor traveled the 150 miles to Haddonfield because 9-to-5 didn’t apply to The Shape. Loomis gave nary a thought to his career or reputation, and certainly didn’t allow the notion that “I tried, but no one believes me” slow him down because Loomis understood with perfect clarity the only way to safeguard the people of Haddonfield was to take matters into his own hands.
By refusing to relent, Loomis told every authoritative detractor from Dr. Wynn (Robert Phelan) to Sheriff Brackett to go fuck themselves. That Loomis’ actions proved unsuccessful is irrelevant because stopping evil incarnate in itself is an exercise in futility. What matters is that Loomis refused to quit without so much as an ounce of assistance from those equipped–and charged–with helping him.
In the end, that’s what has endeared us to Loomis for 45 years: his unyielding resolve to protect. Whether it’s a significant other, our children, siblings or friends — when the chips are down, we are all Dr. Loomis — stopping at nothing to protect those we love.
Was it Dr. Loomis fearlessly storming up the Wallace’s stairs to confront Michael Myers alone?
Every year around this time, I think about how Halloween was when I was a kid and how so much has changed over the last 20 years. I think many of us can collectively agree that the ’90s were probably the last great decade that gave the Halloween holiday its proper due. As a young kid in the 80s in October, I can vouch that era, in particular, is yet to be unmatched except for perhaps the 70s (but I was only a twinkle in my dad’s eye in that decade, so I can’t speak on that); but as an older kid, and teen in the 90s, Halloween fucking rocked then. And I refute the accusation that I’m looking at the times through rose-colored nostalgic glasses.
Growing into a young adult, a mom, and into now just a grumpy 40-year-old witch, I’ve watched the holiday slowly lose its lackluster and excitement. Modern-day paranoia along with today’s technological advances and a lazy attitude brought on by corporate America all have a filthy hand in this. It’s quite rare these days to see a kid wearing a homemade Halloween costume, and what’s worse, is that the Halloween whore costumes have become so goddamn ridiculous that when you come across a Sexy Ronald McDonald costume, you gotta know that the Halloween holiday has taken a turn for the worse.
Yep. This dumb shit really exists. I would, however, like to know who actually thinks this is sexy because I’d like to get a restraining order on you, thanks in advance.
Halloween Costumes
Anyway, Halloween in the 90s looked a lot different from decades prior. It was a lot more colorful, loud, and in your face. Much like, well, the 90s as a whole. And damn it was fun. The costumes became much bolder for us kids, while still suffocating under cheap plastic masks, and more creative than ever before. The homemade Halloween costume was still in effect, however, you’d see more than your fair share of Batmans’, Ninja Turtles, and Power Rangers throughout the day/night. As for the girls, a sea of Disney Princesses and later in the decade, Spice Girls were the popular choice. Of course, the slasher would always reign supreme among both boys and girls who knew their Halloween shit, especially with the addition of Ghostface in the mix.
I still think to this day, those Beavis and Butthead masks were more terrifying than anything on the market.
Halloween TV/Snacks
Halloween TV went hard. Every other commercial was dedicated to Halloween, and every brand got on the spooky bandwagon. The Pepsi and Doritos collab in the early ’90s, is one that many from that generation remember the most.
Speaking of Universal Monsters, they had one hell of a revival during the decade, and I think the PEPSI CO giant may have had a hand in that with these commercials- making them “cool” for the new generation. As if they ever weren’t... The Universal Monsters massive VHS set came in around this time as well, and Frankie and Drac just exploded into pop culture all over again like it was a brand-new thing. Now, I had been watching these movies since I was in diapers, but it was definitely nice to see Bride of Frankenstein cookies in my lunchbox.
The commercials went hard, but the Halloween specials went even HARDER. We still had old faithful airing every year like It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, and Garfield’s Halloween Adventure, but the 90s brought in into syndicated programming that was already encased in the blocks. Series TV like Roseanne, The Simpsons, and Home Improvement had Halloween specials every year that every single damn one of us tuned in for. The early 90s in particular, brought prime cable channels to more homes than ever before and with newer kids channels like Nickelodeon and Disney having their own network stations, new programming came along with that. Shows like Are You Afraid of the Dark, Rugrats Halloween specials, Pete and Pete and AAAH! Real Monsters were just a few that were a mainstay in October.
But, that being said, Nick or Treat/ Snick or Treat was where it was AT, because we all wanted to win those prizes so badly.
The contests were usually sponsored by McDonald’s and the one I remember the most in particular is the one where you would pick up an entry form at McD’s and if Nickelodeon called you, you would winsome cool prizes. The anticipation of the phone ringing and answering every phone with “Nick Or Treat!” was, by far, both anxiety inducing and exciting. I never won, but damn, I tried, and it was pretty hilarious when salespeople would phone the house and I would answer like that.
Also, Disney religiously played Disney’s Halloween Treat all through October, whereas it’s not even on their oh-so-mighty streaming service. LAME!
Since Halloween snacks and TV sort of go hand in hand, the cereals released during Halloween in the 90s were on par for some of the best. Of course, we had our Monster cereals, but we would also get Halloween themed versions of Rice Krispies, Fruity Pebbles, and hell, even Waffle Crisp if you remember that one! Actually, before someone shoots me, Halloween Waffle Crisp was introduced in 2000, but the OG was a 90s cereal so I’m letting that one-year difference slide. Sure, we still have that today. But we don’t have Halloween Waffle Crisp. And that, my friends, is a Halloween catastrophe.
Also, we had Addams Family cereal. Can’t beat walking around your house at 2 AM with your Cousin ITT flashlight, rummaging through the cabinets for snacky-snacks.
Halloween Books
If you were a bookworm like I was in the 90s, series like Goosebumps and Scary Stories To Tell in the Dark were must reads all year-round of course, but essential during spooky season. It was even better when they were featured outright in the Fall Scholastic Book Fair.
While I’m here, special shoutout to the Scary Stories For Sleepovers series that always got overlooked because those were damn, good books.
Halloween Decorations
The 90s were also the last year of true die-cut and paper decorations, along with lawn leaf jack-o-lanterns. I want to say I’m wrong, but after the new millennium hit, you just didn’t see these as often as you would, if at all. Gel clings have taken over the Halloween window market these days, and well.. let’s just say the art of the matter doesn’t compare here.
Hefty. Be smart here. You’re sitting on a nostalgic gold mine. Bring these back. Thanks.
Trick-or Treating
Trick-or-treating was nowhere near as cool as in the 90s. It seems that more and more people forego that old-fashioned, door-to-door trick-or-treating in lieu of trunk-or-treating. Instead of enjoyable neighborhood candy-soliciting, the kiddos can go to a parking lot to collect their wears while the pumpkin spice latte-fueled parents’ pretty much ignore their kids.
Trunk-or-treat sounds more like a threat than a good time to me.
Kids in the ’90s celebrated all day with school parades and activities, and we immediately went out after an hour intermission between school and home, to obtain a shitload of candy. We were out all night for hours at a time, staking rich houses for those full-size candy bars for hours. My parents usually had to buy three bags of candy to keep up. These days, you’re lucky to get a handful of kids. Last year, I got ONE trick-or-treater. It felt like the end times for me. Now, I know this isn’t in every neighborhood, and maybe I’m exaggerating a little based on my own bitterness about present practices, but I’m not far off here.
Seriously, the last time I saw anyone give out homemade treats was in the 90s. Popcorn Balls are underrated, and a lost art, folks.
The ‘90s were arguably the best and, for what I feel, the last time for a kid to have a real Halloween experience the way it should be. Unfortunately, in these weird and wild times, I don’t know if things will get better or worse. But at least we have memories and those of us that still have that nostalgic Halloween spirit, can continue doing things our own way. That is, at least until dementia kicks in for me.
