I've always been a pretty big Claymation fan. Gumby and Pokey, the Noid, Wallace and Gromit. But back in 1988 it was all about the California Raisins. I loved those soulful little hunks of clay so much. I had all the figures, the calendar, the Christmas album. When I saw an advertisement in the back of a TV Guide for a chance to win a trip to California-just for coming up with a name for one of the raisins, I was totally on board. I spent the next few days struggling to come up with a name suitable for one of these tiny purple heroes of mine. Inspiration finally struck in the form of a delicious pun. Raisin Charles! It was genius! I filled out the needed paper work and popped it in the mail. Months later I was watching television. Either Entertainment Tonight, PM Magazine or some such show. They did a story on how Ray Charles was doing an ad with the California Raisins. Surely this meant I had won! You had to send an additional letter requesting a list of the winners of the contest, which as far as I was concerned was merely perfunctory. It was sealed up. I spoke and Hollywood had listened. My bags were packed. Hollywood here I come! The letter announcing the grand prize winner and runners up finally arrived. Some jerk, from some other state, with some lame-ass non-clever pun name had won. Raisin Charles didn't even get a runner up T-shirt prize. I was pissed. What kind of heartless S.O.B. steals a 13 year old kid's idea and fails to reward him with a trip to California? Needless to say, I have not eaten a raisin since. I pick them out of salads, lick the chocolate off of Raisinets and throw away their traitorous insides. I even skip grapes, knowing what they are so close to becoming. I refused to go see the Taylor Hackford bio-pic of Ray Charles, the pain still being too much to take. It has also made me distrustful of all claymation. I have always done my best to avoid the Noid, but Gumby? My therapist suggests playing with Play-doh for 1 to 2 hours a day. It's a slow recovery, but I'm making it. Each day is a challenge. One day I will be a whole person again.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
How I was Screwed by a Raisin
I've always been a pretty big Claymation fan. Gumby and Pokey, the Noid, Wallace and Gromit. But back in 1988 it was all about the California Raisins. I loved those soulful little hunks of clay so much. I had all the figures, the calendar, the Christmas album. When I saw an advertisement in the back of a TV Guide for a chance to win a trip to California-just for coming up with a name for one of the raisins, I was totally on board. I spent the next few days struggling to come up with a name suitable for one of these tiny purple heroes of mine. Inspiration finally struck in the form of a delicious pun. Raisin Charles! It was genius! I filled out the needed paper work and popped it in the mail. Months later I was watching television. Either Entertainment Tonight, PM Magazine or some such show. They did a story on how Ray Charles was doing an ad with the California Raisins. Surely this meant I had won! You had to send an additional letter requesting a list of the winners of the contest, which as far as I was concerned was merely perfunctory. It was sealed up. I spoke and Hollywood had listened. My bags were packed. Hollywood here I come! The letter announcing the grand prize winner and runners up finally arrived. Some jerk, from some other state, with some lame-ass non-clever pun name had won. Raisin Charles didn't even get a runner up T-shirt prize. I was pissed. What kind of heartless S.O.B. steals a 13 year old kid's idea and fails to reward him with a trip to California? Needless to say, I have not eaten a raisin since. I pick them out of salads, lick the chocolate off of Raisinets and throw away their traitorous insides. I even skip grapes, knowing what they are so close to becoming. I refused to go see the Taylor Hackford bio-pic of Ray Charles, the pain still being too much to take. It has also made me distrustful of all claymation. I have always done my best to avoid the Noid, but Gumby? My therapist suggests playing with Play-doh for 1 to 2 hours a day. It's a slow recovery, but I'm making it. Each day is a challenge. One day I will be a whole person again.
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