Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #10: Why Would You Do That?

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

This week is a short one, starting with the return of Abby and Mallory from Sea City.

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I  have not won a prize. Also, why am I not surprised that Claire would enjoy skinny dipping? The most annoying Pike would enjoy calling attention to herself in the most inappropriate way.

Mallory chimes in, spilling the beans on Abby’s great babysitting.

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Abby, honey, why did you think it was a good idea to give a foot long hot dog to a six-year-old? What good could come of it? How did you become a babysitter? Kristy, is there some kind of screening process?

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Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #9: Kristy’s Birthday

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

Oh, boy, was it a busy week for the BSC! It started with Jessi congratulating Claudia on her problem-solving skills.

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I still think Claudia’s handling is going to produce dubious results. Maybe Sean just told her that the tuba painting worked so the other babysitters would stop trying (and failing) to solve his problem. Also, he was worried that Claudia might splatter paint on the rest of his property if he didn’t say she solved his problem.

Jessi continued in the journal by gossiping about Abby and Stacey.

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While that sounds nice and all, that’s not your story to tell, Jessi. And how the fuck do these 13-year-olds keep picking up dudes wherever they go? And how old are these bodysurfing boys? I have half a mind to call your parents and tell them about your nightly activities.

Meanwhile, it’s Kristy’s birthday soon and she’s excited about her softball camp.

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How could Watson get “a real major league player to stop by” exactly? Is he an agent? Big baseball agency in Stoneybrook, huh? Does he really want a baseball player who is half steroids to visit his young stepdaughter and her friends?

Then Mary Anne says something still relatable.

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Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, and Sandra Bullock are still relevant actors, even twenty years later.

I know what I would say to a celebrity if I met them. Nothing. I would say nothing. Because that’s what I said when I met Paula Poundstone after a show she did in Carson City. My sister asked her for an autograph and I just stood there with a big dumb grin on my face and said nothing.

We wrap up this week with Kristy’s birthday.

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I can believe that Claudia made a great cake.

Also, on a side note, these things are moving to Wednesday. Some stuff happened at school (*cough*class canceled on Wednesday*cough*I had to sign up for a different class*cough*) and now Tuesday is the most convenient day to write these. Sorry again.

Rereading My Childhood – Goosebumps: Stay Out of the Basement!

My parents are not anti-vaxxers because they’re responsible parents. My sister and I are current with all our shots, no matter how hard it was to get us to sit down and actually take the damn shot. We used to cry and cling to our parents and engage in futile begging, but our tenacious parents still forced us to receive our shots. After it was all done, the pain a distant memory, we got a prize from the hospital.

That’s where I saw it – a green hand wrapped around a door. Leaves and vines grew around the hand as if something escaped the confines of the basement and was now poised to take over the upstairs. Goosebumps: Stay Out of the Basement by R. L. Stine sat on the highest shelf, most of which featured boys with dogs or girls with dolls. Maybe one or two with arm-crossed children rolling their eyes as their apron-clad mother held a rolling pin and chastised them. The hand stood out. The hand grabbed my attention. The hand scared me, but I needed to know what was happening.

Rereading this as an adult, I’m happy this one was my first Goosebumps book. My copy has the new cover that fails to live up to the original, but I’m still happy I own this scary book that holds up as fine children’s horror.

SPOILERS AFTER THE COVER!!!

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I realize this is the new cover, but Goodwill only has so many old covers.

Casey and Margaret Brewer are tired of their father’s excuses. They want to play Frisbee with him, but he’s always busy. And he’s been working every day since he moved his family out to California, a place that Margaret doesn’t like because it’s “the middle of winter; and there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and Casey and I are out in jeans and T-shirts as if it were the middle of summer.” Oh no, how terrible it must be to have temperate weather in the second-best state in the union. (First is Nevada – don’t @ me.)

Margaret thinks that Mr. Martinez, their father’s boss, fired their father for some experiments that went “wrong.” She gets curious and encourages Casey to come with her to find out what their father is doing deep in the basement. When they halfway down the basement stairs, their father appears.

He glared up at them angrily, his skin strangely green under the flourescent light fixture. He was holding his right hand, drops of red blood falling onto his white lab coat.

Stay out of the basement!” he bellowed, in a voice they’d never heard before.

Both kids shrank back, surprised to hear their father scream like that. He was usually so mild and soft-spoken.

Stay out of the basement,” he repeated, holding his bleeding hand. “Don’t ever come down here – I’m warning you.”

I think the kids just slink away because the next chapter starts with Mrs. Brewer leaving to help care for her sister for a few days. She says she’s no worried about the kids, but is worried about Mr. Brewer, particularly that he will become so engrossed in his work that he won’t eat. The man himself appears, his hand bandaged despite it being a few weeks after he yelled at them. He takes their mother to the airport as Margaret’s friend Diane arrives for some adult-free childhood banter.

Diane is also the one who dares Margaret to go into the basement, because what’s a Goosebumps book without some kids daring each other to do some stupid shit. I remember being a kid. We always dared each other to do stupid shit. It’s the most realistic thing in the series.

In the basement, they find a “rain forest.” It’s so hot and humid that Casey decides to take off his shirt and drop it on the floor, just like an actual kid. That’s when they notice a tall treelike plant actually breathing. Casey touches it and he goes into convulsions!

Of course, it’s just a prank. At least the fake out is at the end of chapter three when I’m already invested, instead of the first chapter. The children think the plants are moving and they decide to go back upstairs. They think that their father will never know they were down there, but Casey remembers that he left his t-shirt on the floor.

Casey goes back into the basement to retrieve his shirt, but their father comes home. Margaret is standing at the top of the stairs, urging her brother to return before their father walks through the door. He grabs his shirt but some tendrils grab him. It’s not a trick. Actual tendrils grab Casey. They wrestle free, but not before their father catches them.

They insist they didn’t touch anything and while their father is disappointed, he is not stark-raving mad. They ask their father about the weird plants, but he refuses to explain their bizarre appearance and behavior to them. The next morning, Margaret finds a lock installed on the basement door.

Dr. Brewer is working so hard to impress his boss, Mr. Martinez, and prove that the university was wrong to fire Dr. Brewer. However, Margaret clings to her idea that something is askew, especially since she sees his research as putting his career ahead of his children, something he hasn’t done before. Her suspicions are exacerbated when she sees him devour something from a bag “greedily” and stash it under the sink before returning to the basement.

When she was sure he had gone downstairs, Margaret walked eagerly into the kitchen. She had to know whather father had been eating so greedily, so hungrily.

She pulled open the sink cabinet, reached into the trash, and pulled out the crinkled-up bag.

Then she gasped aloud asher eyes ran over the label.

Her father, she saw, had been devouring plant food.

Oh, shit, Margaret! The call is coming from inside the house! Get out of there!

She tries to confide in Casey her findings, but, like every shitty man, he doesn’t take her concerns seriously. There are more frustrating scenes wherein others excuse Dr. Brewer’s neglect as something he’s doing for the sake of his career while dismissing Margaret. This whole book is like a metaphor for women’s struggles. A young woman is supposed to just accept a man’s egregious behavior for the sake of his own interests even to her detriment. I feel ya, Margaret. We cuz.

While Margaret is growing up with a distant father, Dr. Brewer is growing green hair. He is also skulking around the house and scaring his daughter and is sleeping in a bed that is covered in earthworms and wet, black clumps of dirt. Finally, he tries to feed his children a strange substance bearing a resemblance to dirt. This is the straw that breaks Casey’s back, so to speak. He is finally curious enough to investigate the basement with Margaret.

They get their opportunity when Dr. Brewer leaves. In the basement, they find a jacket belonging to Mr. Martinez. They come to the conclusion that plants may have eaten the big boss man (the character in the book, not the wrestler), but their father insists Mr. Martinez just got hot and left his jacket. A few days later, they also discover Mr. Martinez’s shoes and pants, hurting their father’s theory that he just got hot. You don’t just take off your pants in someone else’s house, even the house of your subordinate.

During another excursion into the basement (and after some heavy lock destruction), they peer deeper into the experimental jungle.

She took a deep breath and held it. Then, ignoring the moans, the signs, the green arms reaching out to her, the hideous green-tomato faces, she plunged through the plants to the back of the closet.

“Dad!” she cried.

Her father was lying on the floor, his hands and feet tied tightly with plant tendrils, his mouth gagged by a wide strip of elastic tape.

“It can’t be Dad!” Casey said, still holding her by the shoulders. “Dad is at the airport – remember?”

She reached downand tugged at the elastic tape until she managed to get it off.

“Kids – I’m so glad to see you,” Dr. Brewer said. “Quick! Untie me.”

“How did you get in here?” Casey demanded, standing above him, hands on his hips, staring down at him suspicisously. “We saw you leave for the airport.”

“That wasn’t me,” Dr. Brewer said. “I’ve been locked in here for days.”

“Huh?” Casey cried.

“But we saw you-” Margaret started.

“It wasn’t me. It’s a plant,” Dr. Brewer said. “It’s a plant copy of me.”

Holy shit! It’s a plant! Metaphorically and literally! The story continues with a classic, “I’m your real father! Shoot him!” “No, shoot him! He’s the impostor!” only with a little girl holding an ax, which is my new aesthetic.

Margaret figures out who her real father is when she stabs the father from the basement in the arm. He bleeds red blood, so she hands him the ax. Then her real father cleaves the impostor in two! Take it back. A father who was held captive by a sentient plant cutting his captor in twain with an ax from his daughter is my new aesthetic.

In the end, the Brewers destroy the plants and return the equipment to the university, but R. L. Stine isn’t finished.

It’s so peaceful now, [Margaret] thought happily.

So peaceful here. And so beautiful.

The smile faded from her face when she heard the whisper at her feet. “Margaret.”

She looked down to see a small yellow flower nudging her ankle.

“Margaret,” the flower whispered, “help me. Please – help me. I’m your father. Really! I’m your real father.”

Fucking perfect. This book was perfect.

I’m happy this was my first Goosebumps book. I’m happy this was the book I chose from all the other books on that bookshelf at the doctor’s office. Thank you to whoever put that book on that shelf. This book started my lifelong love of all things scary and creepy. I’m even happier that this book holds up. I like the punniness. I like Margaret. I like the mystery. Everything about this book is perfect.

Stay Out of the Basement was the second book of the Goosebumps series and, especially with Welcome to Dead House as the first, I can see why this series is revered in the Pantheon of Young Adult Fiction, exactly where it should be.

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #8: A Simple Fix

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

I got a letter from Jessi this week!

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The form asked what my nickname was and I assumed it was for logging in purposes. I don’t really have a nickname. My mother calls me “Kido” and my Filipino nieces and nephews call me “Tita Kido.” Literally everyone else in the world calls me “Amy.” Maybe Jessi is being sarcastic. “That’s a good one in that it’s not a nickname at all.” Jessi isn’t normally sarcastic, but maybe she wants to haze the newest member of the BSC.

Meanwhile, Claudia solved Shawn Addison’s tuba issue (tubissue).

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Really? That’s it? You just had to paint some stuff on his tuba? What about his parents? Like, musical instruments are expensive. I don’t know if they’d appreciate their very expensive investment becoming the art project of a preteen.

Maybe I’m the wrong one because it’s a hit with Jessi.

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By the way, A Year With the BSC is moving to Thursdays so I can write these on Wednesdays. Thanks!

Rereading My Childhood – A Year With the BSC #7: How, Mary Anne, How?

A Year With the BSC is an informal series wherein I explore the 1990’s CD-ROM video game The Baby-sitters Club Friendship Kit. The game is more of a personal organizer; it features with a calendar, an address book, a stationary kit, a flyer maker, and a personality profile. I’m focusing on the more interesting aspect of the game: the personalized letters and the journal entries. The full list of entries can be found at rereadingmychildhood.com.

The BSC is finished talking about summer camp and are focused on Abby and Stacey’s trip to Sea City with the Pikes.

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It’s troubling that Abby thinks there’s a possibility the BSC won’t miss her. She’s the newest member so she might be unsure of her position in the club.

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Dawn just came back from California, and I’m sure she doesn’t want to do another trip, even if it’s just a car ride and not a cross-country plane ride. I don’t blame her.

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Mary Anne is nice. She’s the nicest member of the BSC. That’s sweet advice, Mary Anne, but what do I do when my friend starts spouting fundamentalist dogma she got from our favorite bigot and crazy man the 45th president? How do we evolve as humans if we don’t hold each other accountable? How, Mary Anne, how? Because I genuinely don’t know and I am open to suggestions from preteens.