...And knowing is half the battle.

I guess you really can’t go home again. I’m trying not to write about every single thing that starts the wheels turning in my head, but I’m traveling for work and I’m afraid that you’re just going to have to bear with me because I’ve got some time on my hands.

Flipping through the channels I came across a movie that I haven’t seen since I was 9 or 10 years old – The Beastmaster. I’m sure that some of you remember this movie, and if you’re older than me you might remember just how astonishingly (I can’t even come up with an emphatic enough word to express my feeling on this) aweful it is. Human sacrifice, people-melting, bird worshippers, an eyeball ring and I’m pretty sure they painted a tiger black. And this doesn’t even begin to describe how terrible this movie is.

The thing is, until tonight this movie was one of the greatest parts of my childhood. Honestly, I remembered this as the coolest show I had seen. (I don't want to get into why my parents let me watch this show. And I'm not sure why it didn't give me nightmares; separate topics for another time.) Look, I’m not saying that I didn’t expect there to be some let down from the last time I saw this, but I didn’t think that we’d be approaching Anaconda levels of absurdity. Obviously I was wrong. Now I’m left questioning everything that I thought was awesome that hasn’t made an appearance in my life since before I hit middle school. I mean, was He-Man truly the greatest cartoon of all time or not? What about Fraggle Rock? Another Marc Singer classic, V, scared me to death. Now I’m left wondering whether it was truly terrifying, or terrifyingly stupid.

I think that this will be the last time I indulge my inner-child with one of these trips down memory lane. I’m just going to try to put this experience behind me and assume that everything else was just as great as I remember. Seriously, I’m not giving up G.I. Joe.