Forgotten Television: Animalympics

About this time, athletes across the world are competing to decide who will represent their countries in the upcoming Olympic games, which are to take place in London. This is an honored tradition meant to bring people of various cultures, beliefs, and languages together in sportsmanship and fair play. As the torch lighted to begin these games signifies, it is one sign we can stand side-by-side in games and one human race.

Moralizing aside, it makes sense there would be a show based on the Olympics.

So enters the hour-and-a-half television special known as “Animalympics.”

Animalympics is as it sounds—a cartoon version of the Olympic games with animal athletes for the characters. Here you see all the ceremonies and competitions carried out by different creatures, from weasels to whales, who each have personal trials or challenges to overcome during the competition. This you witness through a variety of brief story arches focused on certain participants for each event. Through these you not only are able to enjoy some interesting tales, but you also get glimpses of the world the writers or producers for this film have created.

The documentary feel is appropriate, as the hosts for the games interview the athletes or give information about each competition. And because Animalympics does spend time with each event, it becomes a fun little introduction into what you would find at the regular Olympics. Heartfelt and filled with gags, this really is a movie you could enjoy no matter your age.

Unfortunately, Animalympics happened to be one of those specials that aired on regular television once or twice—and then never again. A similar film made by another company, known as “Animal Wars” appeared close to a year afterwards, but this one could get raw and did not have the same enthusiasm or spark as its predecessor.

If you are looking for an unconventional watch guaranteed to make you smile, even if you are not into athletics—Animalympics is worth a view.

Secret Places (Part 2)

As I wrote earlier, there were various experiences to enjoy while my brother and I attended Palomar Community College. Time changes things, it is true, and since we transferred in 2009 the observatory I visited closed (a new larger one will open this coming March). There are also more classrooms towards the center of campus, and construction is in progress on the theater. But the Concert Hour still happens in the same building each Thursday, and the Arboretum has remained mostly unchanged—though the people who work there are in the middle of labeling all the plants/trees in the area.

The transfer to Cal State San Marcos meant moving just a few blocks to what seemed—to me, at least—an even grander campus where my brother and I could jumpstart our chosen career paths. Having taken care of our general education requirements at the community college level, we could focus on our majors. That made the classes we took all the more enjoyable, even if we had to contend with tuition hikes and the poor economy.

Cal State San Marcos

Being a university campus, activities and events abounded at Cal State. Almost every week on the library plaza, the Student Association or another organization (from study-abroad programs to clubs) would set out stands. Sometimes they also offered free food, and then it was common to find long lines of people stretching from the plaza along the walkway towards the art building.

At the beginning of each semester, the main food court and eating area (called “The Dome” for its shape) and the five-story Kellogg Library tended to have big crowds of people either finding their way around or studying for their courses.

It was possible to get a little claustrophobic when caught amid these crowds, so I remember feeling refreshed when I had the opportunity to break away and explore the rest of the campus.

Down the hill, and across the street, from the library plaza stood the Clark Field House—a gym free for students to use throughout the year (so long as they took courses each semester, including the summer). Seeing this for the first time was good news to me, since I enjoy working out, and it had cost money at Palomar to use the gym every month. My first move was to apply for a card to enter the gym, but along the outside there was also a lounge. At first, the cougar logo placed on the front glass door made me think it must be a room for conferences or faculty members, yet on venturing in I found it clearly made for resting after exercise or studying for classes.

Visiting the lounge the first few times was a pleasant shock, since it was so vacant compared to the rest of the campus. It had couches, televisions with channels galore, a miniature fountain, and a coffee/hot chocolate machine. When things became too noisy elsewhere, I could retreat to the Clark Field House and enjoy some relaxation with warm drinks.

That is, until I found the cubbyhole.

Anyone who depended solely on taking the elevator to his or her classes in the Academic Hall would have missed this, but above the fourth floor where (if you took the stairwell to the top) you would find a cubbyhole. Although it had no chairs, the ground stayed clean of cigarette butts or other trash—and from there one could get a nice view of the library plaza and everything beyond. It reminded me of the topmost spot in the Arboretum in that way, and this was a great place to have lunch, especially on rainy days (if there wasn’t a wind).

The first two locations I mentioned were a bit out of the way, but there were good-to-know places reached by just wandering around inside the academic buildings as well. There were times when the computer labs at the library lacked open computers for students to use, but the lab found on the second floor of University Hall tended to always have ones available. I do not know if this was because not so many students know about this lab, or if reaching computers in the library was just easier—in any case, it was a good place to go if you needed to use a school computer and had trouble finding one. It also stayed unlocked past six o’clock in the evenings and opened around 7:30. So that helped, too.

I should also talk about the student lounges near the Dome, which house different groups of people on campus. It probably sounds strange, but even with my explorations, it was only recently I really took advantage of this area. More specifically, of the Women’s Center.

I happened to visit that lounge because I needed a band-aid.

Funny what can draw you somewhere, isn’t it?

Anyway, I had gotten the queen of paper cuts along my thumb—and it was only then I thought how nice it would have been to pack some bandages in my purse in case something like this occurred again in the future.

These thoughts brought me to the convenience-like store in the Dome.

They didn’t sell band-aids, but one of the assistants advised me to visit the student lounges:

“They always have a lot of band-aids there.” He said.

That took me to the Multi-Cultural room, which was a little intimidating at first because there were so many students sitting around tables or doing projects here and there. It felt like I was walking in on a meeting or a club, which wasn’t far from the truth—and several people turned and greeted me in unison. I asked about the band-aids, but they were out of the larger ones and advised me to go next door to the Women’s Center.

I did exactly that, and discovered the Women’s Center was different than I had imagined. During my classes, my professors and friends sometimes mentioned the Women’s Center. What I found there was an even cozier version of the lounge at the Clark Field House. Here the hot chocolate mixes were free, and the couches were soft. They had cards to play solitaire with, and dominos to stack. There were also shelves crammed with books. The people who gathered there moved about with ease, and the atmosphere was welcoming.

It was amazing.

These are only some of the many things available at Cal State San Marcos, and if asked to describe my experience on-campus in more detail—it would take many more pages to cover all the events you could discover.

So until then, this is the best advice I can give:

Keep exploring, and keep asking questions. You never know where they will take you.

Secret Places (Part 1)

One great joy I had while attending Palomar Community College, and then Cal State San Marcos, was discovering areas or events on those campuses that few students either visited or knew existed:

Palomar Community College

For a young woman who had come from a high school campus small enough to see across, Palomar College was enormous. In its center stood a Student Union mostly composed of glass walls, from which one could look out at the tall clock tower near the courtyard and administrative buildings. When my brother and I first started at the school in fall of 2007, the Union used to have a DDR machine in the far corner, opposite a coffee stand known as the “Java Shack.” On this note, I should also mention the group of students, many of whom were anime or video game enthusiasts, my brother liked to hang around with between classes—because they were one aspect of my experience there I will always remember.

In fact, the student union group deserves to have a story dedicated them.

But that is something for another time.

I spent little time in the union, and more wandering around the campus.

During my first semester at Palomar, I decided to investigate what lay in the maze of classrooms behind the administrative buildings. And they did become a maze, in the most literal sense, with overhangs that connected so it felt like you walked through tunnels. At the entrance to this, I passed the classrooms in which art courses clearly took place—and the small courtyard where I saw students relaxing near an obscure statute.

Following the tunnel for a ways, I came upon another open area with what can only be described as an abandoned café. There were tables outside, and one window looked the type to have opened at one time for someone to pick up an order. Inside, there were booths, vending machines, and even a microwave. That was to become an interesting place to have lunch, since the main people who came there also took the music courses in the classrooms lining that section of the maze. I would come and hear students practicing guitars, flutes—any number of instruments for their classes.

And it was here that I learned about the Concert Hour from a flyer posted on the café door, which took place each Thursday afternoon in a room just a little further along the tunnels. Someone had even posted signs with arrows on them showing which way to go for the performance room.

So whenever I had spare time over the semesters on Thursdays, I would pop in and see a variety of musical performances from current or past Palomar music students. Once, I even got to watch a group dressed in traditional Chinese attire do the Flower Dance. At another time, I listened as a chorus sung “Johnny I hardly knee yee” and “Red River Valley.” Each was beautiful.

Of course, it was as I went searching for the performance room I happened upon the observatory. I remember well feeling lucky because the sign in front noted this would be the last exhibition before it closed down (until the new observatory was built). I will also always remember I saw the show the week before Halloween, because after the host in the observatory pointed out constellations on the domed ceiling over our heads—they finished by giving us something very special. The stars on the ceiling disappeared, replaced by a short animation of going through a haunted house and graveyard. Outlined ghosts and monsters jumped out at every turn.

That was amazing.

As I have said, there were several incredible places to visit in the classroom maze—though I haven’t even mentioned the theater just beyond all this on the other side. But, I do not think I missed out too much by not being able to attend one of the productions. There were a lot of other things to see. 

It didn’t feel as if many students took advantage of these activities or places, or perhaps this was because I had no choice but to stay on campus from early in the morning until around six in the evenings (because of my transportation).

Whew. I have said quite a bit about the “maze,” but that is nothing compared to what stood at the other end of the campus.

Behind the Natural Sciences building and library stood the arboretum. It was a large enclosure filled with trees and plants from all over the world. A sign towards the front warned visitors about bobcats or snakes, but in all the time I attended Palomar, I fortunately never saw one. In the afternoons, it was difficult to find places near the Student Union or gym to sit and enjoy a meal in the sunshine.

In the arboretum, there was never a lack of room. You entered a human-made forest, and walked along vacant dirt paths to wherever picnic site you chose. Later, I would learn most of my classmates had no idea the arboretum was there—which was a shame since that scenic place could relax you at once. Birds would sing in the trees. The flowers smelled sweet. And if you climbed to the top of the highest hill there, you would come upon a bench and trashcan to lounge upon. From here it was possible to see the whole campus, and the form of Cal State San Marcos in the distance.

I remember sitting there while eating my lunch beneath the shade of a tree, and wondering what it would be like to attend CSUSM when my brother and I transferred after earning our AA degrees.

To be continued in Part 2…   

Forgotten Television: The Elm-Chanted Forest

Okay. There are certain films that have made some very important contributions to animation history.

“The Elm-Chanted Forest” is such a film.

Imagine a vast forest ruled over by various fairy courts, whose kings/queens are responsible for specific aspects of the nature in their environment. For instance, there is King Nepton (who controls the lakes or rivers), Firebug (who controls fire), and Emperor Spine (ruler over the deserts), among others. But all these courts have to show great reverence for a magical elm tree towards the center of the woods, from whom it is likely their powers originated—and which is also something of a sovereign over the other courts.

Everything is peaceful until one day the desert king Emperor Spine hears a prophecy that the Sacred Elm (what they call the tree) will soon select a human being destined to “cut short the cactus reign,” and feeling threatened, he becomes an enemy towards the forest and his fellow kings. 

So seals the beginnings of a forest-wide war, and one involving magic paintbrushes, wizards, dancing mushrooms, etc.

Story Outline

The human being spoken of in the prophecy comes to Fantasy Forest, a painter who seems to be there seeking inspiration for his artwork. After sleeping under the Sacred Elm, Peter Palette becomes “elm-chanted” and can not only speak to all the creatures in the forest, but also do magic with his paintbrush. The first animal and friend he makes is J. Edgar Beaver, the last of his kind (the others having been destroyed or chased away by Emperor Spine), who helps him build a house in which to stay and do his work.

There the forest animals vie for him to paint their portraits, though the only ones you know he does this for are the French fox Fifi (who can cut to the head of any line with ease from her looks alone, apparently) and three shy hedgehog brothers.

Meanwhile, Emperor Spine learns of the arrival and decides to send a message to Peter inviting him to his palace—with the intention of executing him if he keeps his “appointment.”

Peter ignores Emperor Spine’s message and goes to have a meal with the hedgehog brothers instead.

Angered by Peter’s absence, Emperor Spine sends his nervous court magician Thistle to bring in the painter—and this his faithful servant tries to do with the help of a bear named Bud E. Bear who Thistle befriends in the forest. However, Bud E. Bear almost drops the pursuit two minutes later when Edgar Beaver (the manager at the local forest pub) declares if he touches the painter “there will be no more light-bear on the house.”

When Thistle pleads with Bud E. to renew the chase, the bear breaks into a song cue about how friends can make you feel happy.

This said, the bear actually does go with Thistle to find Peter afterwards, and even starts to charge—but when he trips and crashes feet away, Bud E. becomes quick friends with the painter and Thistle has to wander off in frustration.

There are several attempts made by Emperor Spine to have the other kings send their forces to destroy the forest in his search for the painter, which he succeeds in by tricking them with insults. Each time, Peter Palette manages to save the day using his magic paintbrush.

After the second or third case of destruction, Peter begins to ask questions about Emperor Spine, of whom he comments to his friends: “There must be something making him so angry.”

Around this time the magic in his paintbrush begins to fade, and the wind sprite and soothsayer Baron Von Burr tells Peter he must fulfill “his destiny” by the following dawn because his elm-chantment only lasts for a short period. The sprite advises Peter to find Thistle because his magician’s powers could help against Emperor Spine’s assaults on the forest.

Peter finds Thistle in the pub with Bud E. Bear and Fifi, having given up trying to catch Peter himself and unable to go back to the palace because Emperor Spine would execute him for his failure. After hearing the exact words of the prophecy from the wizard:

“No man may rule of castle taint,

until the forest runs with paint,

but when it comes,

that dreaded hour,

the hopes of Cactus King will flower.”

Peter Palette comes to the revelation the Cactus King must be bitter because he never fulfilled his nature by “sprouting flowers” as some cactuses do—getting this from the last line of Burr’s prophecy. Certain he has found the real cause behind Emperor Spine’s rampage, Peter asks Thistle how they can accomplish this, and the wizard says it would be possible to him make a potion for the king using herbs from across the forest.

All the animals pitch in to help, but when the potion is nearly done Emperor Spine sends his guards and captures Thistle—and Peter falls down a hole into the realm of the Mushroom King (who doesn’t care one way or the other about the situation happening high over his head and wants Peter to become his newest mushroom servant). 

At the castle, Thistle tells Emperor Spine how Peter and the animals are actually trying to help him—yet the cactus king refuses to listen and says he has had a machine made to tear through the forest first thing in the morning, before having Thistle thrown into the dungeon to await his execution.

Edgar Beaver and Bud E. Bear receive a cryptic warning from Baron Von Burr about their captured friends, and they run off immediately to rescue them.

While Edgar Beaver saves poor Thistle from being "axexcuted," Bud E. Bear rescues Peter from turning into a mushroom. Soon, both are safe and Thistle finishes the potion.

The group invades Emperor Spine’s castle, easily getting past the not-so-clever guards and creeping up to the cactus king’s bedside (he sleeps on his throne). Peter Palette pours the concoction down Spine’s throat, and the nasty thorn turns into a pink king covered in flowers and filled with happiness.

Emperor Spine comes out of his castle and declares peace to all the animals.

His apology is readily accepted and everyone starts celebrating. Even Edgar happens upon a female beaver—who is probably his wife (judging by her appearance alongside what could be their children during Baron Von Burr’s explanation of the Cactus king’s prejudice against beavers).

Peter Palette leaves, promising to tell the children in his village the forest animals are their friends.

Production and Historical Notes:

The ideas behind “The Elm-Chanted Forest” came from a Yugoslavian/Croatian fairy tale by Suncana Skrinjaric, whose title in Croatian reportedly meant “A Riot in the Forest.” Celebrity Home Entertainment’s Just-For-Kids label released this film in America in 1989.

As with all English dubs, there are probably several differences in dialogue or content. This is to say there is a good chance the original Croatian version did not have too many puns, but the voice actors we get in the English dub do perform their parts well and convincingly.

“The Elm-Chanted Forest” made a valuable contribution to animation history, by being the first full-length animated feature to come from Yugoslavia (now Croatia) in 1986. So you have to keep in mind the producers behind this film were testing their abilities, and using the project as a launching point for others they could improve upon—it is similar to how Disney used his “Merrie Melodies” series to stretch his own creative skills.

The general reception for “The Elm-Chanted Forest” was great enough in Yugoslavia to inspire a sequel entitled: “The Magician’s Hat”—focused around Thistle and his quest to save the forest from an ice king (I am not entirely sure of the plot). Familiar faces from the first film, such as Bud E. Bear and Fifi Fox appeared—except for the transformed Cactus King. The second movie never made it to the United States, but the full length Croatian version (no subtitles) has been posted on-line (Youtube).

There are foreign cartoons deserving of the spotlight for their place in animation history, and “The Elm-Chanted Forest” warrants a lasting place near the top.

Forgotten Television: House of Mouse

Welcome back to the House of Mouse, where your favorite Disney characters gathered several nights each week to enjoy classic cartoons and crossover hi-jinks. Mickey Mouse and his friends took center stage, and each episode tended to focus on crises they encountered while trying to “keep the show going.” Otherwise, their club would fall into the hands of the dastardly Pete.

This show came towards the end of what I consider a golden era for the Disney Channel, because the shows dominating their station tended to be cartoon spin-offs or reference points to the movies that made Disney great (those animation masterpieces produced by Walt Disney). They brought children into creative fantasy worlds that placed Walt Disney’s best mouse at the head and reintroduced his characters in new ways.

Among the House of Mouse’s strongest points was its callback to the first cartoons created by Walt Disney. One episode even showed “Steam Boat Willy”—and their Christmas special “Snowed in at the House of Mouse,” gave us Disney’s version of The Christmas Carol with Scrooge Mcduck. Favorite Disney villains also received special attention, such as when Mickey Mouse teased Hades with his audition tapes and Jafar hypnotized Donald into getting him “the lamp.”

So the whole thing was a fun social gathering that allowed viewers to see the characters watch cartoons.   

Nowadays you hardly see Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, or Goofy—let alone the colorful menagerie of cartoons we know the team at Disney are capable of giving to us. The Disney Channel has abandoned most of their cartoon shows in order to push the next pop teen idols at children, though there are some happy exceptions like Phineas and Ferb and Playhouse Disney. This issue is for another article, though.

But if you want to get a glimpse into a show where Mickey Mouse and Disney Toons rule, you might just like to check out House of Mouse. 

Hustling Roman

Out in the countryside there are many dangers for cats, especially when they love to wander beyond their indoor havens. The owls and coyotes living nearby pose some of the biggest threats to them, topped only by hi-speed drivers and loose dogs.

This made the feline haven our neighbor Nancy maintained a singular feat among the cat-lovers in our small community in California. On her property, cats enjoyed long lives without fear of being carried off during the night or day. For the first few years after my family moved to Lake Riverside Estates, I often marveled at the way Nancy’s cats could have such freedom outside—prowling through the tall meadow grass across her gateless land.

One day, my mother and I asked Nancy what had made the property so safe for her furry companions. She gave us a sly grin fit to make a Cheshire cat envious and pointed to her golden tomcat Roman:

“Several years ago,” Nancy said. “A young coyote came close to my house with the intention to eat one of my cats. He picked the wrong cat to pick on, because when Roman saw the coyote approaching, his fur bristled and he turned into a fierce hurricane of claws and teeth. He charged that coyote and chased the frightened critter back into the fields across the way. The coyotes have left my cats alone, ever since.”

Roman earned his name that day, toppling this threat to his territory. This message must have passed onto the other wildlife in the estates as well, since no other animal dared to touch Roman or his friends.

Gale

Gentle Santa Ana Gale

Roving traveler over Anza prairies

You tickle bovine backs,

Rustle equine manes,

And caress babies’ cheeks.

Show me where you take,

Those sweet melodies you make,

And for whose sake.

Forgotten Television: In Search of Dr. Seuss

“Open a book, open up your imagination.” –Dr. Seuss

When one journalist (Kathy Najimy) goes searching for the “true story” behind beloved children’s author Dr. Seuss, she stumbles into an unforgettable adventure through both his life and works—guided by none other than the infamous Cat in the Hat. Combining heartfelt retellings of tales such as “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” and “Hunches-in-Bunches” with wistful commentary on what inspired Dr. Seuss to create each one, this special in no way resembles the average solemn biography on an influential figure in American literary history.

Instead, in traditional Dr. Seuss style, it fills every step with laughs and charming characters portrayed by familiar faces like Robin Williams, Billy Crystal, Patrick Stewart, and Christopher Lloyd. There are also several tasteful remixes of these classics put to music, including a gospel choir rendition of “Yurtle the Turtle” and a Broadway duet of “Oh The Places You’ll Go.”

By the finish viewers will not only have learned valuable lessons Dr. Seuss wished to give to children and adults alike with his writings, but a lot about one person who was a philanthropist to his very core and deserves to have his own story remembered by all.

Thanks to this film, that is very easy to do.

It is a shame this particular special received so little publicity, since the unconventional or (as Dr. Seuss might have called it) Sledgehammer approach to this biography makes learning about history fun and exciting. This film can turn adults into children, have kids singing, and imbue newfound wisdom and hope into anyone (regardless of his or her age).

Looking for a fun experience that just happens to be educational? Check out In Search of Dr. Seuss.

“From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere.”—Dr. Seuss