When You Close Your Eyes (Do You Dream About 1984?)

Still...too...angry...to...think...straight.

Look, nobody, and I mean nobody, was happier that Tyson Barrett and Einstein Jones actually took advantage of Juan Uribe's imitation of Shawon Dunston, but yesterday's 7-4 Cubs victory does not even begin to erase the horrible memories of what happened on Friday and Saturday at U.S. Comiskular. As many Random Thoughts readers, including Bearister, Parrotmama, Daddy Wags and Thewife (especially poor Thewife) can attest, Saturday was...how should I say this?... not one of my better days. And since I am a firm believer that one really ought to cool off before saying or writing something that they possibly do not really mean, I feel the need to hold off on my ranting and raving about Rich Hill, Thing Two and the rest of the boys in blue.

But, since I fully recognize that the Random Thoughts is the singular beautiful flower in the weed garden that is your lives, I will not let you down. Because I know that each of you wakes up each morning knowing that whatever horrible atrocities await you during your day, you can still rely on a well placed DeGrassi Jr. High reference or an unexpected Barry Foote mention, I will fulfill my duty. As Random Thoughts commenter "cubfankev" so eloquently put it...I'm going to "walk the walk," "blog the blog."

I will try and take you back to a happier time. A time of Gloria Vanderbilt jeans, leg warmers and designer shoelaces. A time when Fraggle Rock was on every television and Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was on every big screen. We ate Pop Rocks and begged our moms and dads for Transformers and Glo Worms. Mr. Roarke welcomed us to Fantasy Island for the final time, while a former major league ballplayer with a tough-guy reputation was hired as Angela Bower's new housekeeper. A time when the world was introduced to a young Alyssa Milano.

Today we are going to dig deep into the Dan Wagner vault of fun. For your enjoyment and entertainment, I have reprinted an original Dan Wagner column, written as a wee lad of 12 in the glorious summer of 1984. Please enjoy this blast from the past! Let's go crazy! Let's get nuts! Let's look for the purple banana until they put us in the truck!

Originally published on June 14, 1984

{Cue: Sound effect of bubbles and visual effect of world getting hazy around us as we take a trip back through time}

* Well, Cubs' General Manager Dallas Green has done it again! Say it isn't so!!! Trading youngsters Joe Carter and Mel Hall for catcher Ron Hassey, relief pitcher George Frazier and overrated starting pitcher Rick Sutcliffe is going to make his earlier deal sending fan favorite Bill Buckner to Boston for Dennis Eckersley look intelligent. I mean, how many pitchers with ERAs above five runs per game do we need? Sutcliffe is 4-5 with a 5.15 so far this season with Cleveland, while Eckersley went 9-13 with a 5.61 last season for the BoSox. What do we need these guys for? Does Green expect to turn Eckersley into a closer or something? That would be moronic. And, while I recognize that Buckner's production has slipped recently and Leon Durham is the new starting first baseman, Buckner is the glue that holds the clubhouse together. You mark my words. Boston is going to love him. He'll retire and be given a parade down Yawkey Way and will forever be remembered for his time in Boston. He'll follow Ted Williams and Yaz as the newest Red Sox hero.

Furthermore, trading Hall will turn out to be a huge mistake. He has future superstar written all over him. Trading Carter, who can't get a big hit in a key situation to save his life, is okay, but trading Mel Hall? Gag me with a spoon. The very idea is positively grody to the max! So I guess that's why they call it the blues.

* Speaking of Leon Bull Durham, I'm a little concerned about his lack of range at first base, compared with Buckner. I have the utmost confidence that he will absolutely make the routine play without exception, but will he get to the ball in the hole? For the sake of the Cubs' infield defense, it's the most important question since Clara Parker asked a nation of fast food restaurants Where's the Beef?

* I'm also not sold on Danny Partridge (man, I hope somebody comes up with a new red-headed fictional character in the future) in right field. I fear that Moreland does not hit with enough power and, time after time, will struggle to drive in runs.

* To his credit, last year he was practically automatic in save situations, but I have to ask...does current Cubs' closer Lee Smith need glasses? What's with all the squinting? To a hitter, Smith straining to see catcher Jody Davis' sign must be scarier than getting your hair caught on fire while filming a commercial for Pepsi.

* Look, I'm not completely down on every aspect of the Cubs. Yes, I think it is going to turn out to be a rather cruel summer, but there are definitely positives. Ryne Sandberg sure looks like the real deal. He's got it all. He has proven that he can hit, play defense and is an all-American guy with a terrific looking wife in Cindy. I certainly know that love is a battlefield and you might think that on-the-road temptation will eventually get the best of him, but he and Cindy seem truly head over heels in love with each other. I've got to believe that they will be Chicago's top couple forever.

* Oh well, should the Cubs collapse as I expect, at least we can all go watch Ivan Reitman's latest movie Ghostbusters, which just came out last week. Bill Murray and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man? Sign me up! I'd even trade my 45 of Nena's 99 Luftballoons for a ticket.

* Speaking of movies, be sure to check out the character Betty Childs in the hilarious new movie Revenge of the Nerds. What a great set of legs! (Yes, I know that I am only 12, but I'm not dead). She does not quite rival Random Thoughts resident hottie Valerie Bertinelli (I hate to admit this but infatuation is beginning to set in), but you are sure to enjoy the scene in the Moon Jump thing. Hey, girls just want to have fun!

* I'm guessing that actor Anthony Edwards, who plays Gilbert, leaves his acting career behind and either becomes a fighter pilot or an emergency room doctor.

* Not to focus too much on pop culture, but Valerie Bertinelli's husband's rock band just might be the greatest band in music history! And they seem so close knit. Like the aforementioned Ryne and Cindy, I just can't imagine anything happening that can tear Eddie, Alex, Michael and David Lee apart. A breakup is about as likely as a Mondale-Ferrarro victory this fall and would be more suprising than Hulk Hogan's victory over the Iron Shiek two months ago. I've gotta get me a red tank top t-shirt with the horizontal tears in the back! Hulkamania rules!

* White Sox short stop Scott Fletcher is off to a slow start this year and I can only wonder whether he is hearing footsteps. Minor league reports indicate that young Venezuelan SS Ozzie Guillen is almost ready for the majors. Scouts love the kid's hustle and his sanitized, polite demeanor. Let's just hope that he is taken under Richard Dotson's wing and not LaMarr Hoyt's. Otherwise we'll hear move expletives coming from the south side than we heard during last year's Eddie Murphy classic Delirious.

* Does San Francisco Giant outfielder Dusty Baker have anything left in the tank? That is precisely the question that Sox fans are asking. Concerned that Ron Kittle may have only been a one-year wonder (his current average is hovering aroung .200), the Sox are considering trying to pry Baker from the Giants to beef up their outfield (I hear Clara asking her question again...). Dusty would be a terrific addition. He is fundamentally sound, plays the game the right way, trusts rookies explicitly, and, under no circumstances, does he tolerate walks. The Sox would have to thank their lucky star if GM Roland Hemond is able to pull off a little magic and acquire Baker. Unfortunately, San Fran Manager Frank Robinson claims that Dusty Baker will be harder to get than a Cabbage Patch Doll at holiday time.

* Congratulations to newly crowned Miss America Vanessa Williams. May her reign be long and controversy free.

* Those of you who collect baseball cards will be equally jealous of me and excited for me! Yesterday, against all odds, I finally talked Jeff Hoffman into trading me a Fernando Velenzuela and a Darryl Strawberry (hint to city of New York...want to solve the homeless problem? At least six families of eight can fit in each of Straw's nostrils) for a Cal Ripken. Sucker! Ripken is long overdue for an injury (that guy has played something like 340 straight games!?!) and Fernando promises to have the shelf life of a box of twinkies. Like parachute pants and the new sitcom Punky Brewster you know he is here to stay (unfortunately, I'm not quite as optimistic about fellow new sitcom The Cosby Show). Strawberry? The next Willie Mays, I say. After pulling off that trade, I celebrated by doing the Worm and headspins while listening to Ollie and Jerry's "Breakin'...There's No Stopping Us" all night long (all night). I even did a little dancing in the dark.

* The NBA draft is only a few weeks away, and I am already concerned. Houston picks first and is sure to take Akeem Olajuwon (who seems to be missing a letter in his name. Hmmmm...). The key is the second pick to be made by Portland immediately preceding the Bulls' pick at #3. Reportedly, the Blazers are choosing between North Carolina wing Mike Jordan and Kentucky bug man Sam Bowie. Tonight, before we sit down to play Pac-Man or Pitfall on Atari (hey, it's a hard habit to break), let's all agree to say a quick prayer that Portland selects Jordan.

The Bulls already have good guards. I mean how much better can Jordan be than current stalwart Reggie Theus and future all-NBA stud Quentin Dailey? He's a borderline prospect at best. It's not like the guy averaged 20 points in college or anything and, last I checked, the Bulls have no plans to run the four corner offense. The Bulls need a big guy and, hello, Bowie is clearly the pick. Draft Bowie and a championship is in the Bulls' future. Draft Jordan and it's ten more years of mediocrity. Things may get so bad that coach Paul Westhead may find himself out of a job relatively soon, right at the time when we are all reeling over the end of the term for Sultan Haji Ahmad Shah Al-Mustain Billah ibni Almarhum Sultan Sir Abu Bakar Riayatuddin Al-Muadzam Shah as the 7th Yang di-Pertaun Agong of Malaysia.

* Anyone else psyched about this summer's Olympics? I'm so excited, I feel like dancing through town ala Kevin Bacon in Footloose (where's Lori Singer?). No, the commies are not coming, which assures victory after victory after victory for our American heroes. I'm most excited about the basketball games. In case, you have not heard, team USA will be coached by Indiana University's Bob Knight. Of course, the selection of Knight as coach did not come without its share of criticism given his run-in with a police officer in Puerto Rico almost five years ago and his stuffing of an LSU fan into a garbage can at the 1981 Final Four (Knight was convicted in absentia and sentenced to six months in jail and Puerto Rico is still trying to extradite him. Give it up!). Look, in my mind, Knight is an innocent man. Give the guy a break! It's not like he chokes his players.

* Corey-o-Meter: Last Night: Ate Kraft macaroni-and-cheese for dinner because its the cheesiest. Threw tantrum when mom would not let him watch his new favorite show, Webster (mom was watching Fame). Used his toy bat to practice hitting fly balls. Season: Almost five years old. Dreaming of the glamorous life.

* Big Brother isn't really watching me, is he? I mean sometimes I feel like somebody's watching me, but I have a feeling it is just my mom.

That's all. I gotta go watch Silver Spoons. Tonight is the episode when Dexter Stuffins gets a job with Enron and Alfonso's overcomes his dyslexia to win the spelling bee by correctly spelling aibohpphobia. Let's hear it for the boy!

***Today's sports trivia: Who was the Cubs opening day starting pitcher in 1984?

***Today's pop culture trivia: The title of 37 songs from 1984 are hidden in this post. What are they? Do not, however, look for Huey Lewis' "I Want a New Drug" (what exactly was Huey saying?). Crud, make that 38.