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Max’s Retro Game Reviews #1: Time Tunnel for the C64

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When I was a kid I had a Commodore 64 with a disk drive and a dedicated TV for a monitor in my room. I guess you could say I was hot stuff. Go ahead. Say it.

While digging around in my parents’ basement for treasure, mostly in the form of forgotten coin collections and other items I can sell on eBay, I found my old Commodore 64. I managed to connect it to my modern TV and then had no problem deciding which game I wanted to play first.

Let me take you back to the 80s. I had a stack of C64 games in the form of 5.25″ floppy disks, most purchased and many pirated. Pirating was a gray area back then, like grabbing cash out of an open register when the cashier has turned around to get your cigarettes. Hey, if you’re going to offer me free money, I’m going to take it.

I played the classics. Zork. Ace of Aces. Zork II. Micro League Baseball. Zork III, probably, I can’t remember that one. The pirate text adventure where you had to say yo-ho. Bruce Lee. Summer Games. Yie Ar Kung Fu. Leaderboard. Beach-head. Raid Over Moscow. Seven Cities of Gold. Spy vs Spy. Karateka. Wow, my childhood kind of ruled.

A game I’ve never been nostalgic for is a frustrating little number called Time Tunnel. This game’s story is that you’re a gnome and you want to be the king of the gnomes and…you have a time machine…and to be king of the gnomes you need to collect some papers…and…forget it. It made no sense then and it makes no sense now. You have to use the time machine to go back to different eras and solve puzzles to get papers that you collect to form a message. Why does a gnome have a time machine? Why are the papers spread out in space and time? I don’t know. Why does the sun set? Why do you park in the driveway and drive on the parkway? Some things just be.

Where and when can you visit in this time machine? Glad you asked. You can go back to the Stone Age, ancient Persia, ancient Greece, the California Gold Rush, Salem back when people were surprised to see witches, a space ship, and…for some reason…a black hole. Good luck getting out of that one.

Examples of the puzzles you have to solve are using rocks and a log to make a lever and getting a horse to walk on a convoluted treadmill/pulley system.

Hey, Max, you’re probably thinking. Sounds like you hate this game. Why did you play it first?

Why? Why did Hillary climb Everest? Why did Neil step on another world? Why did Mary Lou Retton do flips? Why did Rocky take on the Russian even after the Russian killed Apollo Creed? Why? I’ll tell you why.

Because I couldn’t beat it.

I spent hours playing that game as a kid. I collected all of those papers and assembled them in the black hole. When I added the last one they came together to form a message. The message was mirrored, so I went and got a mirror from my mom. Why would she need one anyway? To avoid spoilers I won’t tell you the message here, but what I can tell you is I spent hours after that trying to figure out what I was supposed to do and never did. Sometimes you have to cut your losses, so I gave up.

When I played it today, I got right through the puzzles and back to that message. And I still didn’t know what I needed to do. The good news is I’m now an adult. I have a sharp mind. I can outthink lots of kids, so I figured I could solve this last puzzle. Did I figure it out? Yes, if going to YouTube and watching a walk-through is figuring it out.

After a couple of short steps I completed the game. What was I greeted by at the end? Credits? A cool animation of the gnome taking his throne and bringing down harsh judgment on his people? No. I played all the way through that game for a second time and all I got was this stupid image.

I don’t even know what language that is. What is it, ancient Sumerian? What does it mean? Probably good job, sucker. Thanks for the throne and your money. And what’s up with those feet? Gross! If I wanted to look at feet I would change my name to Quentin. I hate feet. Keep them covered, please.

My point here is sometimes it’s better not to go back, and sometimes it’s okay to decide you’ve taken something far enough and quit. Put that on an inspirational poster. If you do, send me royalties. I prefer tens and twenties.

That’s enough complaining about this 40 year-old game. I don’t want to ever think about it again, but I probably will.

Until next time, Gratulari!!!!!

Max’s Radical Life Lesson #3

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People are always telling me how to eat my food. Dad says to flip the toast upside down before eating it so that the jam is right on my tongue. Gross! He claims it helps you taste it better. Mom is always telling me I have to finish my vegetables before I can have dessert. Sometimes, all I want is dessert, but it’s my parents’s house so I guess it’s their rules. They’re getting pretty old, though, so sometimes I roll my veggies up in a napkin and stuff them down the kitchen sink. Then, it’s pie time.

Unwanted and unnecessary food advice goes well beyond the confines of the home that I hope to someday inherit from my parents if Tom Selleck’s mustache doesn’t convince them to reverse mortgage it. People want to not only tell you what to eat, but how to eat it, and even how to open it. Which brings me to today’s radical life lesson:

A poorly drawn banana and monkey. The text reads "Just peel your bananas from the top like the rest of us."
What, you’ve never seen a monkey with the word ‘monkey’ written across its chest? How else would you know what it is?

There are people out there who would have you believe you should peel bananas from the bottom. I’ve actually heard people say this. They claim it’s somehow better, like the banana tastes differently based on how you peel it. To those people I say, “There’s a tab at the top that’s perfect for peeling.” Who put the tab there? God? Charles Darwin? Mister Rogers? That robot girl from Small Wonder? Who am I to say? What I can say is that sometimes the easy, obvious way is the best way.

Did Sir Edmund Hillary dig a tunnel through Everest to get to the summit? No, that Kiwi took the easy way up on the outside. Did the Fall Guy choose just one dangerous career so that he could focus on his craft and limit the danger in his life? No, he’s a stuntman and a bounty hunter. I guess that one doesn’t really fit the point I’m trying to make here. Did Mr. Drummond open his cans of beans from the bottom? No, he had Mrs. Garrett open them from the top like the rest of us.

My point here is that people are idiots. They want to believe that they know something other people don’t. That’s why conspiracy theories and cults are so popular. Speaking of which, starting a cult in my parents’ basement could be a good way to make some extra cash. Are you feeling lost? Hopeless? Does your significant other peel bananas from the bottom? If so, then send me some money and you’re in.

Until next time, remember you can’t spell Commodore without commode.

4 Lessons ALF taught me about life choices (and writing for sitcoms)

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A poorly drawn picture of the alien ALF from the tv show ALF.

Hey, folks – Max Bedroom here. 

Mom’s shoveling the driveway and Dad is cooking dinner. I’m not a fan of either task, so I’m down here hiding in the basement. I figured while I’m making myself scarce I would pop another tape into the ol’ VCR. This time, I’m watching that classic 80s tv show about an alien with a smart mouth whose spaceship crash lands into the garage of the most boring family in America. That’s right, we’re talking about ALF.

Let me refresh your memory if you haven’t seen ALF recently. ALF stands for ‘alien life form’, although it should stand for ‘another lazy formulaic attempt leading (to) feelings (of) angst’. ALF’s real name is Gordon Shumway, but the Tanners just calls him ALF. Pretty rude. Reminds me of when I was a kid and Mom would call me Big Mouth because I liked catching large mouth bass. I have a name, Mother. It’s Max Bedroom.

Unlike aliens in other tv shows, ALF doesn’t really bother to hide from society. He might go out and get caught by the dog catcher or get mistaken for an ugly cousin. In this episode he is mistaken for a raccoon. It really greases the plot joints when you have an alien who doesn’t want to be discovered but also doesn’t need to bother hiding out in the house all day.

Here’s what I learned about life choices from ALF.

ALF Season 2 Episode 9: Night Train

  1. Some of the best times you’ll have in life will be when you have no money

Willie Turner has it all. A house. A smoke-show wife. Two mediocre kids. A job that gives him purpose. A wise-cracking alien living in his house. You know, the American dream. What he longs for, though, is that time when he rode the rails, hopping from town to town working odd jobs and having adventures. There’s something freeing about having no money and no responsibilities.

On a green background, a poorly drawn picture of Willie as a hobo stands in front of the train tracks.
Willie the Hobo looks like he’s ready to hop a train and maybe do a little murdering.

My problem with this logic is I currently have no money and few responsibilities and I’m pretty miserable. I’m not sure what I’m missing here. What made Willie so happy when he was riding the rails just scraping by? Was is the sense of freedom? Probably not. Was it the friends he made along the way? Doubt it. Was it the chance to see this vast continent, to take it all in from sea to shining sea? Nah. I think what made riding the rails so great for Willie was the trains themselves. Boys love trains. I wanted one of those big Lionel train sets for Christmas when I was eight. Instead I got a Dukes of Hazzard racetrack where the cars would jump the track. Still pretty cool.

I’ve made my decision. After Mom finishes shoveling the driveway and Dad finishes making dinner, I’m going upstairs to tell them I’ve figured out what I want to be. A hobo.

If you already have enough trains in your life and romance is more your fancy, then the next lesson is for you.

2.   Past loves prepare us for our true love

While stuck on a freight car with ALF, Willie talks about a past love, and it isn’t his wife. How often, as he’s going through the routines of his mundane life, does Willie stop and think about his ex? Probably all the time. Who doesn’t? I think about both of my ex-wives all the time, and I hope that loving and losing twice has prepared me for my true love, who must be out there somewhere. All I know about her location is she isn’t in my basement.

I can’t be the only one. Would Ross and Rachel have worked if Ross hadn’t married the British lady? How about Monica and Chandler? Would they have gotten together if Monica hadn’t snuggled with Tom Selleck’s mustache? It’s funny that way; love, I mean. Our greatest losses can be our greatest moments. Put that on a t-shirt and send me a dollar.

Sick of all of this love talk and want to know if your life choices so far have been correct? Then read on, my friend.

3. For some people, it’s ok to keep riding that train

You probably think by ‘riding that train’ I mean that it’s ok to continue on your life’s trajectory. Some people never seem to grow up, they just keep doing what they’re doing with smiles on their faces, annoying the hell out of the rest of us sinners. No, I’m not talking about life. I’m talking about riding an actual train. It’s ok to keep doing that.

In the episode, Willie and ALF end up in a freight car on a moving train and run into a grade A, verified, and bonafide hobo. A real hobo in the 1980s. It turns out, through an incredible coincidence that doesn’t take us out of the realism of the story at all, that this hobo is an old friend of Willie’s from back in his own hobo days. Since then, Willie has gone on to build a successful, if boring, career. Get married. Have a couple of boring kids. And, oh yeah, he secretly houses a flippin’ alien. Not too bad. This guy, however, has continued to ride the rails all these years. He has no home, no wife, no boring kids, no wise-cracking alien. But what he does have is freedom, you know, the good kind of freedom. He has the freedom to be as poor as he wants to be. Which of these men has lived a better life? That’s not up to me to decide. I leave that to a higher power, maybe Hasselhoff. Let him judge our mortal lives. Amen.

Maybe you’re thinking Ok, great, live your own life. But what if my life is already messed up? What if my planet blew up? Don’t worry, friend. You know Uncle Max has got you covered. Those of you with blown up planets should move on to #4.

4. Even though your planet exploded, you can still remember the good times

The trauma that ALF suffers from losing his home planet and everyone he loved is overshadowed by his hijinks, poor writing, and the Tanner family’s apathy. ALF lost everything and everyone. He needs therapy. Instead, he gets yelled at for not vacuuming while the family was out at the mall or trying to eat the cat. He’s hungry.

Red and yellow rays shooting out from the center of a black background.
Current Google Melmac view of ALF’s home planet.

ALF talks about this trauma on the train and realizes he can remember and talk about the good times. That reminds me of a similar trauma that I had my senior year of high school. I was on the way to the prom with my date and drove my truck into a ditch. The good news is some good ol’ boys from school who were on the way to the prom stopped to help. The bad news is they gave my date a ride and left me in the ditch. I never made it to the prom and somehow never saw her again. While I was waiting out there in the dark for someone to stop to help me, the smell of gasoline and cigarettes from the guys who picked up my date still lingering in the air, I found a half-empty, I mean half-full, pack of Marlboros. I didn’t smoke and still don’t, but at the time I figured why not and used my truck’s cigarette lighter to light up.

I sat in the back of my truck looking up at the field of stars taking draws from those cigs and feeling, just for a moment, that I was on top of the world. That feeling lasted right up until the point where I started throwing up. Still one of the best nights of my life.

Bonus lesson: If you’re going to write for an 80’s sitcom, learn to write a joke or two, you hacks.

Willie tells ALF that back in his hobo days he ate beans from a can and he even had a nickname. Now imagine you’re a writer for ALF. Once you stop crying over your life choices, think about the joke you would write with that setup. Beans give us all kinds of possibilities. They could have gone with something as simple as the Gas Man. Or Wilie Eat More Beans. Or the Fiber Rider. What did they go with? Boxcar Willie. They completely ignored the bean setup and they just ripped off the name of a country singer who used to sell cassette tapes on tv commercials. Come on, guys. Like my high school cross country coach once said to me, “You don’t have to be good but you have to at least try.” I would take it a step further than that, Coach. You don’t even have to really try…just pretend that you’re trying.

Signing off

Well, folks, I’ve fixed my spaceship and am now heading back to my home planet, where the cats are plentiful and the jokes are all one-liners. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough to dust off another of these tapes so that I can share more wisdom from the 80s.

Until then, keep your cats skittish and your train a-rollin’.

Max’s Radical Life Lesson #2

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Hey, folks – Max Bedroom here.

A pink ghosts points at a man with his hands up.
Don’t feel sorry for this guy. He’s a misogynist who is embarrassed that his victimizing ghost is pink.

It’s odd that the first two Radical Life Lessons are about ghosts, but here we are. You might be thinking that I should have spread out the ghost lessons, but for all you know they’re all about ghosts. You’ll just have to stay tuned to find out.

Since the dawn of time, ghosts have been committing crimes. They hide your car keys so that you’re late for work. They mess with the lights. On, off, on, off. They whisper in your ear such soothing phrases as “Get out” and “Die.” Oops, that was my first wife, not ghosts. And, according to her lawyer/boyfriend, those aren’t actually crimes.

What kinds of crimes do ghosts commit? They push people in front of cars, buses, and trains. They damage property. They moan a lot. Maybe that’s not a crime, but it should be. The point I want to make here is if a ghost steals your wallet, your car, or your first wife, don’t tell anyone. Don’t go to the police; they’re already busy with human and animal crimes. Don’t tell your family and friends; they don’t care. Don’t tell your insurance company; they aren’t paying out that claim. And certainly don’t tell your first wife; she’ll use it as an excuse to get more money out of you.

Just keep quiet and move on…preferably to a place with fewer ghosts and no ex-wives.

Max’s 2026 New Year’s Resolutions

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Hey, folks – Max Bedroom here.

It’s a new year, which means you’re probably banging your head against the wall trying to think of ways to improve yourself without putting in too much effort. Step away from that wall, friend, and have a seat. Uncle Max is here with a fresh set of resolutions to inspire you as we start this new year of possibilities.

  1. Stop procrastinating

Since this post is going out well after the start of the new year, I’m already behind on this one. I find I do good work right before a deadline and my best work well after it, which makes this resolution unnecessary. My new resolution is fewer resolutions, so this one is toast.

  1. Watch as many VHS tapes as possible

This one is easy. The wi-fi signal down here in the basement is so weak it’s no good for streaming, so it’s up to my CRT and VHS tapes to keep me entertained. Now I just need to figure out how to get season 1 of Pluribus on VHS.

  1. Lose one pound

Success will be weighing one pound less than I do now when I step on the scale on December 31st. All of these people talking about losing five, ten, or even 20 pounds need to pull the cord to let the bus driver know they want to get off right here in Shangri-La. Just give me one pound, Billy Shakespeare. For you metric folks, that’s about half a kilo. I bet you know all about that, you deviants.

  1. Do no yard work all year

My parents long ago gave up on asking me to do anything around the house. They just sigh and groan as they take out the trash and wash the dishes, like I’m going to take the hint and offer up my services. No thanks. The worst of this is yard work. In the summer, Mom mows and Dad trims. My goal is to be either out of the house or hidden in a secret location within the house when they’re out in the yard so that they can’t passively ask for my help. All I need to do is find a hidden room or secret passage. Does anyone have Indiana Jones’ number? If not, then I’ll just have to pretend I’m a statue…again.

  1. Make friends with a person with a mullet

I recently heard someone say, “That’s a beautiful mullet” and I thought That’s redundant. You don’t have to explain to me that mullets are beautiful. If I had enough hair, I would grow one myself. Just picture me with a Kentucky Waterfall. Think of me frolicking through the high grass with a Soccer Rocker. Picture me, all business in the front and party in the back. Let that image burn itself into your brain like the griddle marks on a Whopper.

Back in my late 30s I once said, in regards to meeting new people, “If you’re cool, then I already know you.” I believed it then and I believe it now, but I’m open to the possibility of adding an asterisk so that I can *add a friend with a mullet.

  1. Save money by not going out to eat one time

I know I’m not going to change my habits to save money. It’s just not in my nature. What I think I can do, however, is not go out to eat one time when I’ve decided that’s what I’ll do. Sorry, Taco Bell.

How about you? What are your resolutions for 2026? Oh yeah? That’s interesting. Really? Yeah, you can do that. Totally. You’ll be a whole new person in 12 short months.

Now that we’re on this journey together, here’s what I would like you to do. Take little slips of paper and write down your resolutions. It works best if you use slips of paper of various colors, especially bright ones. Put the slips of paper in a paper bag. Are you still with me? I sure hope so, friend. Next I want you to roll up the paper bag and smoke it, because you must be smoking something to think you’re going to change. Just be happy being you, my friend. And stop smoking rolled up paper bags. They’re terrible for your lungs.

How about we just resolve to remember the 80s this year? That’s what I plan to do in future posts…if I can stop procrastinating. Until next time, make sure your hair is big and your dreams are bigger.

Max’s Radical Life Lesson #1

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Hey, folks – Max Bedroom here.

I hate life hacks. Use egg cartons to store Christmas ornaments. Use a coffee can to store the ashes of deceased friends and relatives (and enemies). Use your wife’s toothbrush to clean the bathtub. You know what I’m talking about. It’s just people who think they’re smarter than the rest of us giving advice that no one will follow.

To counter this slew of DIY dum-dums, I’m introducing Max’s Radical Life Lessons. These are practical things that you can start doing today to make your life better. No frills. No leftover household items. Just sound advice that will help you on your journey.

Here’s the first Radical Life Lesson:

A blue ghost smiles as it watches a blank television.
The ghost is happy because the TV is turned off and so it doesn’t have to suffer through the mind-numbing crap on TV these days.

I’ve seen too many movies where a family buys a house that was way too cheap and soon realizes it’s haunted. Instead of just getting the hell out of there, they try to ignore what’s happening, call in some experts from the local university, and then eventually find religion and bring in a priest. While this is happening, members of the family are being tormented and tortured by the entities in the house. Stop. I don’t care about your down payment. I don’t care about your mortgage or the monthly payments. I don’t care that you’ve moved to the country to make a fresh start for you and your family. And I certainly don’t care about the first draft of your novel. Stop.

If you suspect that your house is haunted, then move. Don’t discuss it. Don’t try to get rid of the ghost. They never really go away. Just move. Move, move, move!

4 Lessons Knight Rider taught me about careers (and locking lips)

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Hey, folks – Max Bedroom here. 

I’m a child of the 80s. My kids are all grown up and my wives are all gone (along with my house and my money)…so I’m back in my parents’ basement.

Down here in the basement I found a box of my old VHS tapes. They’re full of TV shows, movies, and music videos that I recorded when I was a kid back in the 80s. I’m hoping these tapes hold the key to getting my life back together. As I watch them, I’ll pull out the life lessons and post them here for you. Maybe you’re in a funk like me and need some life lessons, too. Or maybe you think I’m pathetic and reading about pathetic people makes you feel better about yourself. Hey, all are welcome!

Since I just lost my job to AI, I thought it would be fitting to start with a show about a guy with great hair who drives around in an AI-powered autonomous car. That’s right, we’re starting with Knight Rider. Here are the four career lessons I learned from Knight Rider.

Knight Rider Season 3 Episode 14: Junkyard Dog

1. There’s money in toxic waste

This episode can be summarized as: KITT gets thrown into an acid pit, recovers but loses his desire to kill, and then learns to love killing again. It’s just like the dad from Family Matters when he was a cop in Die Hard. Learning to love killing again is a timeless theme. It gives people hope.

The Boss Hogg of this episode is a toxic waste entrepreneur named “Acid” John Byrock. By complete coincidence, “Acid John” is what I once called my aunt’s toilet when I sat on it after she cleaned it with an abrasive agent. To this day I don’t trust toilets and I certainly don’t clean them. Don’t believe me? Ask my first wife.

You can tell “Acid” John Byrock is rich because he wears a fancy 80s suit and drives a big car. There are no horns on the front of his car, though, so he isn’t Boss Hogg rich, at least not yet. Maybe just one more toxic dump and he’ll get those horns.

How does Acid John make his money? No clue. We learn from a fake wildlife photographer (more on her later) that he sets up in a location, dumps toxic waste, and then when the law starts to catch up with him he moves on. Does Acid John’s company dispose of toxic waste for other companies? Do they produce something that results in toxic waste? Who cares? I want in. Show me the toxic money! At one point one of his trucks just dumps toxic waste on the side of the road. Come on, Acid John, there are much better places than that. Rivers. Ponds. Sinkholes. It’s as if the earth was made to hide toxic waste. Fine, I’ll dump it for you. Where’s my check?

While I’m counting my money, I’ll be thinking and praying about all of the animals that get hurt by the toxic waste, which leads us to…

2. You can be a wildlife photographer if you have a camera and a creepy van

A poorly drawn image of Michael watching as Fran tends to a sick cow.

Admit it. You have, at some point in your life, thought that you could be a photographer. Point and click, right? Just get a fancy Canon or Nikon and off you go. I have personal experience with this, and I can tell you it’s not that simple. My first wife was a photographer. Nude photography. I mean she was nude when she took the pictures. And she only had one client, a handsome guy who, for reasons I could never figure out, didn’t care for me at all.

In this episode, Michael first meets wildlife photographer Fran when she’s standing on the side of the road among cows and a lone bunny. She gives Michael a chance to show off his muscles by asking him to put a sick baby cow in the back of her creepy van. What’s she going to do with that baby cow? My guess is dinner. Wildlife photographers have to eat like the rest of us. Why does a wildlife photographer drive a van? Is she not actually a wildlife photographer and just using that as a front as she builds a case against the toxic polluter? I’m not sure. Mom came down and yelled at me during that part and I didn’t bother to rewind.

Do you have an eye for perspective? Have you ever looked at the Mona Lisa and thought She should scoot a few inches to the left? If you answered yes to any of these questions, and if you own a camera, then congratulations: you are a wildlife photographer…and the owner of a creepy van with a baby cow in the back.

Not into cameras and creepy vans? Don’t worry; Knight Rider has a career for you that pays better and requires no skills at all.

3. To be a scientist you just need a white coat and two head gestures

After KITT is destroyed in an acid bath, they decide to spare no expense and bring in the best idiots money can buy to fix him up. They’re wearing white lab coats, though, which makes everyone in the show think they know what they’re doing. They do not.

It’s clear from the first moment these happy morons appear that all they know how to do is make things light up. They treat KITT like he’s a Nintendo.

You can tell these white-coated soft-heads are fixing KITT because they’re getting these lights, which look like they fell off the Christmas tree in A Christmas Story, to go into KITT instead of coming out of him. Gag me with a spoon! Are those lights his blood? If he gets a cut, does a rainbow come out?

After KITT is “fixed”, not like your dog at the vet but in a more biblical sense, he goes out for a test drive. KITT handles the cones like a self-driving Tesla on a busy city street: poorly. The doctors then shake their heads. Brilliant move, Doc! Later, after Hasselhoff convinces KITT to kill again and KITT masters the driving course, they…wait…nod their heads. A+ for communication, fellows.

Look, I’m not trying to be a hater. I just want that job. Put me in a white lab coat and let me move lights around. With all of the video games I’ve played, it’s what I was born to do. I’ll show Mom those years I spent on my Atari were worth it.

If you’re an idiot who doesn’t like wearing white lab coats, then you’ll love this next job.

4. If you’re going to be an arsonist, be the best arsonist you can be

Still riding high from Top Gun and Iron Eagle (and Iron Eagle 2), I once told my high school guidance counselor that I wanted to fly jets in the Navy. After she stopped laughing, she told me I was qualified to be a “rock breaker” or a “human test subject”…she didn’t even mention arsonist. If only I had known then, who knows what I might have become?

In this episode, when “Acid Jeans” John decides it’s time to high-tail it on out of there, he hires an arsonist. And not just any arsonist, mind you. He hires the best arsonist in the country. And how do we know he’s an expert? At one point someone questions what he’s doing, and he reminds them that he’s a professional arsonist. He was hired to burn down…a toxic waste dump. Is that hard? Couldn’t he just light a match or, you know, just wait a while?

That settles it, then. I’m heading upstairs to tell Mom that my career is about to catch fire. Literally. You know, because of the arson.

And if none of those careers appeal to your sensibilities, then the bonus lesson is for you.

Bonus lesson: Chekhov’s sexy lady lips

There’s an old rule in 80s TV shows: if a good-looking woman with lips appears in the first act of the episode, those lips have to be locked with the main hunk’s lips by the end of the episode. This old nugget holds true in this episode. Fran the wildlife photographer has lips. So does Hasselhoff. And at the end of the episode, as KITT is mid-sentence, Fran and Hasselhoff start making out. Ooowwweeee! Hot hot hot!

And what, you may be wondering, does the magic talking AI car do when they start making out in front of him? He watches. He’s a voyeur. A creepy, lipless voyeur.

Signing off

And with that the tape goes back in the box. Who knows what other life lessons lie in these boxes of tapes? I hope there are more about arson.

I have to get going. Mom is drawing me a bath. I hope it isn’t an acid bath.

I’ll be back soon with more VHS wisdom. Until then, keep your hair big and your dreams bigger.