A Childhood Obsession with Garbage Pail Kids! (And Why I Never Had Them)

Hey there, fellow nostalgics! Today, I’m taking a little detour from the usual grind. My book, Under the Lifeguard's Watch, is still calling my name and Casper and Soren are really pushing me to get their story just right. And while Saturdays are typically reserved for my beloved Saturday TV memories (hello, Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling!), I've got so much on my plate right now that a GLOW post will have to wait for another day. Saturday GLOWcase will be back, I promise!

But today, I just had to talk about something that was a massive part of my childhood wants, a true relic of the 80s that drove some parents absolutely bonkers and kept teachers on a constant hunt for contraband: Garbage Pail Kids. Now, before you start picturing my own childhood collection, let me clarify: I never actually got Garbage Pail Kids as a kid. I knew better than to even ask Mama. Daddy's reaction was a dismissive wave and a pronouncement that they were "stupid" and that baseball cards were a far superior investment. He even started a collection for me, which I mostly ignored, more interested in the cute players than the stats. Daddy eventually took them away from me and continued collecting cards throughout the years. I think Becki still has Daddy's card collection. As for Garbage Pail Kids, much like every other kid showing theirs off, they likely would have been confiscated by my teachers anyway. So, while I didn't own them, their legend definitely loomed large in my late elementary school years.

Do you remember those wonderfully disgusting trading cards and stickers? Man, they were everything to a 10 year old! Released by Topps back in 1985, these bad boys were a hilarious and utterly gross parody of the incredibly popular Cabbage Patch Kids. While Cabbage Patch dolls were all about sweetness and adoption, GPKs were their ugly, booger-picking, eyeball-popping counterparts. And we absolutely loved them!

The creative minds behind these masterpieces were Mark Newgarden and the legendary Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist Art Spiegelman, among others. The main creative artist, John Pound, truly brought these characters to life with his perfectly grotesque illustrations, and he had a fantastic team helping him out, including talents like Tom Bunk, James Warhola and Jay Lynch.

They were all the rage, and it felt like every kid in the cafeteria and on the playground was trading them and showing off their latest finds. But, as you can imagine, something so delightfully rebellious wasn’t going to fly everywhere. Schools all over started banning them left and right. I remember the constant threat of confiscation; it was like a secret mission just to bring them to school! And then, of course, the inevitable happened: the creator of the Cabbage Patch dolls slapped Topps with a lawsuit. It was a whole big thing, but it honestly just made them even cooler to us kids.

From the iconic Adam Bomb, whose head literally explodes, to the delightfully morbid Ghastly Ashley, there were over 600 cards released across 16 different series. And get this – they were produced in tons of countries, so kids all over the world got to revel in their gross-out glory. What was really neat was that most cards came in two versions, "a" and "b," with the only difference being the name of the character. So, you'd have, say, Nasty Nick and Evil Eddie, both featuring the same awesome artwork. It added another layer to the collecting craze, trying to get both versions of your favorites!

While they had their heyday, GPKs definitely faded from the mainstream for a while. But here’s the cool part: they started making a comeback in 2003 and Topps has even re-released some of the original series for special anniversaries. You can now find them in their "Chrome" edition, released in 2023. And for those of you who held onto our childhood treasures, well, you might be sitting on a goldmine! Recent auctions on eBay have shown just how much some of these can be worth. I saw one Nasty Nick sell for an astonishing $8,049! And his other identity, Evil Eddie, a little behind but still going for an eye popping $2,224. Of course, these are definitely rare cases, but it just goes to show you that if you still have your old Garbage Pail Kids tucked away somewhere, you never know – they just might be worth a pretty penny. It makes me wish I hadn't spent my extra money on tapes, candy and gum!

So, what are your Garbage Pail Kids memories? Did your teachers confiscate them? Did your parents think they were a waste of money? Share your stories in the comments below! And if you enjoy these little trips down memory lane, or if you're just looking for more unique content, consider chipping in a little something to keep this blog going. Every bit helps me dedicate more time to these fun dives and, of course, stay tuned for more updates regarding my progress on getting Under the Lifeguard's Watch out into the world for Casper and Soren!

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Ashes to Ashes, Toys to Dust: My Bizarre Brush with Pace Assembly of God

You know, there are some things you witness growing up that just stick with you, not because they were particularly profound or life-altering in a good way, but because they were just…weird. And the whole "spiritual cleansing" through fire thing I saw in Pace, Florida, back in the glorious, big-haired, neon-drenched 1980s? Yeah, that definitely lands in the "what the heck was that?" category for me.

Now, I’m generally a live-and-let-live kind of person. Your beliefs are your beliefs, even if I’m scratching my head wondering how you got there. But this particular episode? It felt different. It felt…off.

Picture this: Pace, Florida, a place where it seemed like a new church popped up every other Tuesday. And towering above them all, the undisputed heavyweight champion of local morality, was the Pace Assembly of God. This wasn't your quaint little chapel; this was a full-blown megachurch, casting a long shadow over the county, especially since everything was drier than a popcorn fart thanks to the local alcohol laws. You could buy wine coolers and beer every day but Sunday and if you wanted anything harder or drinks on Sunday, you had to drive across the bay to Escambia county to indulge yourself, and many how cast their vote for DRY were the ones willing to drive to another county for their alcoholic needs.

Being the not-so-religious soul that I am (leaning heavily towards the "show me the receipts" side of agnosticism), I always found the intense fervor around these parts a little…much. And honestly, the hypocrisy was often thicker than the Florida humidity. You’d hear fire and brimstone sermons, yet the folks delivering them weren’t exactly walking on water themselves.

What always got under my skin, though, was the selective interpretation of faith. Take the whole gay issue, for example. People would thump their Bibles, quoting this and that about homosexuality, completely ignoring the fact that Jesus himself? Never once condemned it. Just a little food for thought I always found interesting.

But back to the bizarre. One day, the talk around town wasn’t about potlucks or Sunday school. It was about the burning. The Pace Assembly of God was having a…well, a bonfire of perceived unholy items. And the list of what qualified for this fiery farewell was something else.

We're talking innocent Smurfs and He-Man figures, deemed evil because of…magic? Barbie dolls, apparently scandalous because you could, gasp, undress them. Entire comic book collections vanished in flames. Horror movie VHS tapes – obviously gateways to demonic possession.

And then there was the music. Oh, the music. If it wasn’t praising Jesus, it was apparently fuel for the inferno. Madonna, Kiss, Dolly Parton, your favorite rock anthems, that catchy pop tune you couldn’t get out of your head – all deemed worthy of destruction. If a kid found joy in it and it didn't have a heavenly choir, it was perfect for the pyre. Members of this church were serious about this to the point where some were going out to stores, flea markets and garage sales to purchase things to contribute to the bonfire.

I wasn’t there in person but I remember standing in my living room watching it happen on the local news, a little bewildered, as Pastor (Lowry) Whoever-He-Was pointed at the growing plume of black smoke and bellowed something about seeing demons rising. Demons? Dude, that wasn’t demons. That was the lovely cocktail of burning rubber, melting plastic, the chemicals from comic book paper and vinyl records. I lived a couple of miles from this situation and it was in the air all over town and it smelled less like spiritual cleansing and more like an environmental hazard. The Pace volunteer fire department were there to extinguish anything that looked amiss but honestly, it was all amiss.

My one and only visit to the Pace Assembly of God was with my friend Candy Shelton and her brother when I was in the 6th grade. Let me tell you, that service was an experience. The first thing I was told when I walked in was blue jeans are a sin, I was not the only kid in jeans. During the service, something the pastor said felt as if I was singled out, “We have a homosexual and witches in the buiding today!” Hands shooting skyward, people speaking in tongues that sounded like they'd swallowed a dictionary of gibberish and a few folks taking dramatic tumbles onto the floor. It felt like a toned-down, significantly less venomous version of those Pentecostal churches you see in documentaries, the ones where folks handle handfuls of rattlesnakes, copperheads and cottonmouths like they're fluffy kittens. I love snakes but it is definitely not my cup of tea. They were awfully keen on getting my contact information, promising a follow-up visit with my parents and me. I had vivid memories of past incidents where my sister would visit churches with friends and shortly thereafter, we'd have pastors showing up at our doorstep for impromptu living room prayer sessions with my parents, who were far too polite to say no. So, spoiler alert: I politely wrote the wrong number and address to pacify their eager requests at the moment and needless to say, I never went back.

This whole burning ritual, it was supposed to be about spiritual purification. But honestly? The people I knew who were enthusiastically tossing their kids' belongings into the flames often seemed to be the furthest thing from paragons of Christian virtue. It felt more like a wave of collective hysteria, fueled by the Satanic Panic that gripped the 80s. I know now that it wasn't just a Pace thing, this fear was everywhere, but in our little corner of Florida, it felt particularly intense. The following year, another was slated to happen but the fire department and EPA were on the scene to shut it down before it happened and at last minute, a member of the congregation who worked for a company that owned large equipment came in with a steam roller to roll over and destroy all of the belongings that were thrown into the pile before everything was scooped into a garbage truck and compacted for extra dramatic appeal to the masses.

Looking back, it just feels so wrong. Confiscating a child’s cherished toys and books based on some fear-mongering ideology? Suppressing creativity and innocent joy? It wasn't about fostering godliness; it was about asserting control and demanding conformity. And what’s truly unsettling is that, over three decades later, this kind of irrationality seems to have made a disturbing comeback, not just in the quiet corners of suburbia but across the globe. It’s like we’ve hit rewind on reason in so many ways.

What do you all think? Did anyone else experience anything like this growing up? I’m genuinely curious to hear your stories and perspectives. And, you know, if you found this little trip down memory lane entertaining or thought-provoking, and you're feeling generous, a small token of your appreciation would be… well, appreciated. Keeps the storytelling going, you dig? 😉

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A Forgotten Park: Memories of a Waterpark Across from the Gulfarium

Source unknown but THIS was the park featured in this story. It DID exist.

Growing up along the Emerald Coast, my childhood was peppered with unforgettable adventures. Yet, one memory stands out—a waterpark in Fort Walton Beach that seems to have vanished from collective memory. Located across from the Gulfarium, this hidden gem, in plain sight, was a place of laughter, adrenaline and an incredible day for me. It’s a story worth sharing, not just for the nostalgia but for the joy of talking about a piece of history that deserves to be remembered.

It all started when my mom and dad took me to Fort Walton Beach for a day, we only lived about 40 miles to the west. My dad took us to a pizza place with a patio overlooking a pool that had floating steps kids could jump on to get from one side of the pool to the other. While my parents insisted we were there to eat, not swim, my 9-year-old self couldn’t help but daydream of splashing around. The pizza was good, it was more like homemade rather than what we usually got at Pizza Hut, Dominos or Crusty's Pizza, but the pool seemed magical. That same day, I got to ride a go-kart at a nearby track—a thrill that I love to this day. What I didn’t realize at the time was that a waterpark was right next door, waiting to be discovered and how I don't remember it is beyond comprehension. I would have definitely noticed it, then again back in those days if I wasn't interested in something, I ignored it and I wouldn't experience my first waterslide until a few summers after.

Fast forward a few years and my love for waterslides had blossomed thanks to places like Tiki Island on Pensacola Beach and Waterville USA in Gulf Shores, Alabama. One summer, my parents surprised me and my friend John Register with a trip to a small waterpark in Fort Walton Beach. I believe it was called "Okaloosa Island Waterpark" or perhaps "Pleasure Island." It was located to the left just after crossing the bridge on Highway 98 onto Okaloosa Island, possibly where Wild Willy's Adventure Zone now stands. Despite my usually vivid memory, this one remains a bit hazy.

The park featured slides built into the terrain of a large hill, with a tower at the center leading to various slides. There were enclosed twister slides ending in splash pools and at the top, two speed slides with thrilling drops. One slide, a multi-drop or "MultiBump," was like the Bullet at Waterville and the other slide was very much like the Kamikaze at Waterville though a bit higher, not as high as the free fall slides at Tiki Island, both offering a mix of excitement and fear. The runouts for these slides were so close to the beach that, had the park not been fenced off, you could have dashed straight into the Gulf of Mexico or even down a pier that was built for either fishing or boats.

John and I spent the day racing down slides, laughing and conquering fears, not mine but his. At first, he was hesitant about the taller slides. He climbed to the top of the tower, only to chicken out and make the infamous “walk of shame” back down the stairs, hugging himself in defeat as I was looking up from the runout of the Free Fall slide I had just plunged down. But as the day went on, something shifted in him. Encouraged by adrenaline and maybe a touch of courage, John decided to take on the scariest slide—a steep drop that tested even the bravest of kids, as much as I love them, I still get a little wobbly in the legs when I get on them. Watching him cross his arms, lay back and take the plunge was exhilarating for him. By the time he reached the bottom, he was hooked, racing back up the stairs and not just limited to a few slides in the park. That moment was transformative—watching my friend overcome his fears and truly embrace the adventure was something I’ll never forget.

We fueled up on hot dogs, fries and sodas from the concession stand, sharing jokes about the size of the hot dogs and soaking in the camaraderie of the day. It wasn’t the last time I saw John before he moved away, but it was the last time we had an adventure like this—a day filled with laughs, memories and a day that he shared my love for waterslides. On our hour and ten minute drive home, my parents had another surprise for John and I, dinner at Pizza Hut. Not only did he and I have a blast at the waterpark, we ended the day at the pizza place all kids of the 1980's coveted and sadly, a place my family knew as forbidden due to a connection to the original owners, a story I'll share in the future.

Sadly, this waterpark remains a mystery to many. It stood for years, yet people remember Shipwreck Island in Panama City and Big Kahuna's in Destin far more vividly, most likely due to their close proximity to the location which probably contributed to it's demise. If you have any memories of this park or know more about its history, I’d love to hear from you. Let’s piece together the story of this lost treasure. Unfortunately, John and I lost touch after he, his mom and brother moved away and much to my parent's dislike, I was once again hanging out with my friend Stig and his gran.

Thank you for joining me on this nostalgic journey. If this story brought back memories or sparked curiosity, feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below. And if you’d like to support my efforts in preserving these tales, your contributions are always appreciated. Together, we can keep the past alive for future generations.

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Lost & Found Sounds: My K-Tel "Let's Beat It" Adventure

Hey everyone! So, picture this: it's the mid-80s and I'm a kid totally consumed by music. Living in my own little world filled with the constant static of my overactive brain, music was my escape, my constant companion. I'd spend hours lost in melodies, and let me tell you, my collection of cassette tapes (and later, CDs) was legendary, even if it was full of hidden gems and tunes that had slipped off the mainstream radar. Early on, K-Tel compilations became my absolute obsession. You know those albums that packed in as many hits as humanly possible, even if they did sometimes fade them out a bit early? Yeah, those. They were my gateway to a world of diverse music, all neatly compiled onto one record.

One day, while we were at Kmart on 9 Mile Road in Pensacola—during one of the rare excursions my mom made into the record department—she surprised me by actually buying me a record I was looking at. It was K-Tel's "Let's Beat It," released in 1984. Sure, the songs were a bit older by late '85 standards, but to me, they were pure gold. I didn't have any of them on 45s or the original albums and there were three tracks in particular that I NEEDED: Olivia Newton-John's "Twist of Fate," Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want To Have Fun," and Dan Fogelberg's "The Language Of Love"—which I'd fallen in love with listening to WABB just before we moved to Florida. Honestly, that K-Tel collection was tight! It was a total mix of pop, rock, what they called "soul and funk" back then and a bit of that awesome synth-pop.

Fast forward a bit, and my friend Charlie and I started our own little pirate radio station, "WJL2," with our show, "Weekends With Chuck & Myk." I'd transferred "Let's Beat It" onto cassette, and some of those tunes became staples of our broadcast. I distinctly remember one time during a pizza run to Crusty's Pizza; we just let the whole tape play while we biked to the pizza place hoping our order would be done by the time we got up there, each holding a precious pizza box while we pedelled our bikes back to his house, praying the tape wouldn't quit and leave us with dead air. Talk about high stakes!

Sadly, my original copy of "Let's Beat It" got lost somewhere along the way—probably in the storage unit my parents rented after the split up after one of them forgot to make a payment. But you know me, with my borderline obsessive music collection habit, I have every single song on their original albums, in their full-length glory. Still, if I ever stumble across a copy of that "Let's Beat It" album on vinyl, in decent shape? It's coming home with me, no questions asked.

Okay, okay, let's get into the nitty-gritty, the tunes themselves! Because, really, what’s a K-Tel album without a good deep dive into each track? Right?

Paul McCartney And Michael Jackson – "Say Say Say": Oh man, I loved this one! I actually remember thinking, as a kid, that it was from Michael Jackson's "Thriller" album. Can you imagine my disappointment when I finally got "Thriller" and...no "Say Say Say"? Haha! Still, "Thriller" was, of course, a masterpiece, so all was not lost.

Cyndi Lauper – "Girls Just Want to Have Fun": This? This was the whole reason I had to get "Let's Beat It." Seriously, this song ignited my whole Cyndi Lauper obsession! It was way before I even knew about "She's So Unusual." This track just grabbed me and never let go.

The Cars – "You Might Think": Ah, The Cars! I was a huge fan from the get-go. "You Might Think," along with "Magic," just cemented it for me. I still listen to them from time to time. That keyboard sound...just perfect.

Olivia Newton-John – "Twist of Fate": This track? Peak '80s, if you ask me. So dramatic, so catchy, so...Olivia! Still one of my favorites, no question. It just puts me right back in that era.

Journey – "Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)": Oh, come on! Steve Perry's voice and those synths? It's just epic! I mean, seriously epic. Just like "Don't Stop Believin'" when that song comes on, you just have to sing along. It's the law!

Asia – "Heat of the Moment": You know what? This is the Asia song for me. I know they have other stuff, but "Heat of the Moment"? That’s it. That's the one. I adore it.

Quiet Riot – "Cum On Feel The Noize": Okay, so I'm a Quiet Riot fan, full disclosure. But I have to admit, the whole "Metal Health" video scared me a little as a kid, haha! I actually prefer the Slade version of this song, but Quiet Riot's take has its own...thing going on, you know?

Michael Jackson – "Human Nature": A good track, no doubt about it. But if I'm being brutally honest, it was never my favorite off of "Thriller." It's kind of just...okay. Compared to the other stuff on that album, it just didn't hit the same for me, same here.

Billy Joel – "Tell Her About It": Billy Joel from this era? Absolutely! Sign me up! There was just something so energetic and fun about his music back then. Always a good time.

Men At Work – "Down Under": Classic, right? Quirky and totally unforgettable. It always makes me picture Australia, even though I've never been! Music can do that, take you places in your mind.

The Police – "Every Breath You Take": Sting's voice? That's it. That’s all I need to say. It's everything. Period. No debate. End of story.

Pat Benatar – "Love Is A Battlefield": This song and the video? Woah! Mind blown! I remember my next door neighbor Angie and I trying to recreate the video in her living room with bedsheets wrapped around us like dresses. Somehow, Angie always played the part of the creepy pimp guy that gets the drink thrown in his face, the reason Cheri had a red Kool-Aid stain in her living room carpet and corner of her couch. Talk about a core childhood memory, right there.

Daryl Hall & John Oates – "Maneater": Loved, loved, loved the video for this one. And yeah, I'll admit it: I had a huge crush on Daryl Hall. There, I said it! Haha!

Dan Fogelberg – "The Language Of Love": I fell for this song hard before we moved. Just totally swept me away. And you know what? It still does. It’s one of those songs that just stands the test of time for me.

Man, just writing about this album has been such a trip down memory lane. It's amazing how a single record can bring back so many feelings and stories. It makes you think about how music shapes our lives, right? I'd love to hear about the albums that have special meaning to you! What records take you back? Drop a comment below and share your own musical memories! By the way, if you happen to stumble upon any cool vintage vinyl in your travels (especially K-Tel gems!), you know where to find me! Just saying! Also, if you love the articles I am posting and want to support what I do, you know, your support in any way is always appreciated!

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Saturday GLOWcase: Unmasking the Mystery of Tammy Jones, GLOW's Sweetheart (With a Punch!)

Alright, GLOW fans, gather 'round! It's Saturday, and you know what that means – it's time for another installment of our beloved Saturday GLOWcase! And this week, we're diving into a character who's become a bit of a mystery, a bit of a sweetheart and a whole lot of fun. I'm talking about none other than the one and only Tammy Jones! You know, the Shirley Temple-esque lady who brought a touch of innocence and a whole lot of squeals to the GLOW ring.

Now, as we know, I am completely, utterly obsessed with the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, so dedicating time and energy to this series is a complete joy for me, and finding out about these ladies and sharing it with you, is something I truly enjoy, I hope you can tell.

Debbie D'Amato, the woman behind Tammy, was a vital part of the original GLOW magic. Did you know she was married to Frank D'Amato, GLOW's first referee? Sadly, he passed away in the early 2000s, but Debbie is still with us and I hear she's living her best life out in California after years in Nevada. It's always wonderful to hear some of the more private ladies are doing well.

Tammy Jones was designed to be the "family-friendly" face of GLOW. She was the character kids could latch onto, with her adorable ring gear covered in red hearts and those gigantic lollipops she'd bring to the ring. It really felt like she was straight out of a Shirley Temple movie. But don't let that sweet image fool you. From what I’ve been told, and what I have seen in snippets and segments of videos, this lady was tough as nails!

I actually had a chance to hear about Tammy firsthand from Matilda the Hun during a cruise I was on. Yes, you heard that right, Matilda herself! She mentioned that Tammy was a super sweet lady and surprisingly fierce when it came to working out. Even though her character was supposed to be childlike, Debbie was strong and dedicated. Matilda also shared that Tammy won their first match in the pilot episode to take the GLOW crown (which Matilda insists was already hers!). And even though Tammy didn't have the best win-loss record, losing more than she won, it was all part of the show, you know? Sometimes, you're just meant to take the fall, it’s a role and an important one at that!

Let's talk about those matches for a second. Tammy's reign as GLOW champion was brief – just three episodes before losing to Royal Hawaiian in her second solo match. She did manage to snag a win against Attache and another tag team win with Americana against Attache and Corporal Kelly. But honestly, her losses were almost as entertaining as her wins. I mean, who can forget those high-pitched squeals and the beatdowns she'd take from Spanish Red and Ninotchka? Plus her other tag team losses with Ebony and Scarlett the Southern Belle, it's not like you can win them all!

What's really interesting is how divided the GLOW fan base is when it comes to Tammy. It seems most fans fall into the love-hate camp. We kinda loved to hate her. There was something about her charisma and that "aw shucks" innocence that made you want to cheer her on...even when you knew she was about to get clobbered. And let's be real, her entrances were always a treat, passing out candy to kids and brandishing those giant lollipops that inevitably ended up broken. So much of the magic was the pageantry.

Despite her memorable presence, Tammy only appeared in nine or so of the first 26 episodes, aside from the skits and music videos like "Good Girls Don't" and "Nasty and Mean." I feel that there were many more stories they could have created, but the time for her had seemingly come to an end. That is wrestling for you!

And then there's the mystery. Where is Tammy now? Well, she did some TV game shows after GLOW, but then kinda vanished from the public eye. Many of the ladies of GLOW have no idea where she is. But! Thanks to the detective work of a dedicated fan, it turns out she's just living her best life in California. It warms my heart that she is out there enjoying her life.

So, GLOW fans, now it's your turn! What are YOUR favorite Tammy Jones moments? Do you have any memories of seeing her in action? Drop a comment below, I’d love to hear what you think about her! I love engaging with you, so your comments always bring me great joy.

And, if you enjoy these Saturday GLOWcases and want to help keep them coming, you know, a little "tag team" support in the form of a contribution or even a digital gift is always appreciated! It fuels my passion and helps me dig deeper into the archives of GLOW history and keeps me going to create more of these fun entries! But of course, just having you here reading and sharing your thoughts is the biggest gift of all. Until next Saturday, let’s keep the GLOW love alive!

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From GLOW to "Under the Lifeguard's Watch": My Secret Project Revealed!

Hey There, Fellow Dreamers!

You know me, right? Saturdays are practically sacred—usually devoted to all things GLOW, The Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. The ‘80s neon, the sheer spectacle, the crew, fans and the cast of women who defied expectations—it’s a world I could talk about endlessly. But today? Today, I need to break routine. Because something incredible has happened and I can’t hold back any longer.

If you've been following this blog, you know it’s my digital scrapbook—a place where I share stories, memories, passions and the occasional deep dive into pop culture rabbit holes. We’ve talked about family legends, movie obsessions, music that moves me and those random sparks of nostalgia that demand to be written down.

But what most of you may or may not know is that behind the scenes, I’ve always had one story waiting in the wings—the raw, unfiltered memoir of my life as a teenage runaway and hustler. For nearly 30 years, I thought that would be the book that marked my grand entrance as a solo author.

I was deep in the trenches of writing it, peeling back the layers of memory, capturing the truth of those years—the good, the bad and everything in between. But then, something unexpected happened.

Somewhere along the way, another story began whispering to me.

At first, I thought it was just a creative detour—something small, something fun. A short fantasy, inspired by a lifeguard I crushed on back in 1988 at Tiki Island Water Park. Just a few pages, intending nothing more. But the more I wrote, the stronger the pull became.

Casper and Soren weren’t asking me to tell my story. They were calling me into theirs.

And so began Under the Lifeguard’s Watch.

What started as a few pages turned into 13 chapters, then 23, then 29. The book took over. It demanded more, as if the characters themselves had decided that I was the one chosen to bring their story to the world.

My journals filled with ideas, my 1967 Smith Corona Galaxie Deluxe typewriter clacked away with urgency, and suddenly, this fantasy world felt as real to me as the streets I once walked.

Casper—a dreamer aching for more than the static in his head.
Soren—a dangerous enigma wrapped in sunlit skin and waves.

But this isn’t just my story—it’s for everyone who has ever wanted to be the authentic vision of themself, no matter the odds.

If you’ve ever fought to carve out space for yourself in a world that didn’t always make room for you, if you’ve ever wanted to live boldly and love freely—then this book is for you. Under the Lifeguard’s Watch is a love letter to every, not just LGBTQ+, person who has faced adversity and dared to dream anyway.

Their world, Crestlake Springs, feels like a place I’ve been to before. Like a memory I’ve stepped into instead of a fictional creation.

Now, after months of obsessing over plot twists, grounding the story in the heartbeat of 1988, and ensuring every character has a place in this world, the book is real. It’s here. I’m deep in revisions, fine-tuning their town, their lives, their fate.

The memoir I once thought would be my defining story is still waiting in the wings. But for now, Under the Lifeguard’s Watch has claimed me and I have no choice but to see it through.

There’s still work to do—adjusting timelines, refining details, maybe even adding visual elements—but I’m committed. And if self-publishing means I have to fund it all myself? So be it. The alliance chose me for a reason and I intend to honor that.

So, what do you think? Do you want to step into Under the Lifeguard’s Watch? Have you ever felt a story take hold of you so deeply that you couldn’t let it go? Let’s talk in the comments—I’d love to hear your thoughts.

And hey, if you feel like fueling this final stretch with a little caffeine or a shiny new notebook for the next adventure, know that it’s always appreciated. But more than anything, thank you. For listening. For being part of this evolving journey.

Until next time—keep dreaming big.

You can also find me on the following social media platforms:
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Dancing Through the Decades: Manuel Briano's Heartwarming GLOW Adventure

Welcome to this week’s Saturday GLOWcase. Today, I’m excited to share the story of my dear friend Manuel Briano, affectionately known as Manny. Manny is one of the sweetest people I know and remains neutral amidst the various dynamics among GLOW fans and personalities. So, let’s dive into this heartwarming tale about a true GLOW fan and an incredible friend.

Manny first discovered GLOW's first season when he was 11 years old while watching WWF on the weekends. Growing up in San Diego, he watched GLOW on XETV Channel 6 and KCOP Channel 13. Unfortunately, these stations only televised seasons 1 and 2, so Manny missed out on seasons 3 and 4 until the internet era. Thank you very much to the fans who have had the ability to record the episodes on videotape. In 1988, GLOW toured San Diego twice, and Manny’s mom took him and his brother to see the GLOW girls both times. This experience solidified his love for GLOW.

Despite collecting all the GLOW magazines and watching the GLOW girls on talk shows, Manny was unfamiliar with the new GLOW girls until he discovered episodes from seasons 3 and 4 through a well-known seller among wrestling fans named Manzerman, who sold VHS tapes. Manny eagerly purchased GLOW and POWW episodes, immersing himself in the world of GLOW.

On his 12th or 13th birthday, Manny received a special treat—a GLOW-themed birthday cake made by George’s Wonderful World Of Cakes in National City, CA. This cake was a delightful surprise that featured two women from the GLOW series, making it a memorable part of his birthday celebration.

Manny with GLOW Director, Matt Cimber

Manny's favorite wrestler is Americana, and he particularly loved the intense matches between Americana and Ninotchka. He vividly recalls screaming at the TV in excitement when Americana pinned Ninotchka in their first match. It was one of those moments that solidified his passion for GLOW.

One of Manny's favorite sketches was "Asking Ashley," even though he didn't always understand the adult humor as a kid. The comedic elements and quirky characters made it a memorable part of his GLOW experience. Like many GLOW fans, Manny also feared the Heavy Metal Sisters. Their fierce personas and intimidating presence left a lasting impression on him, a sentiment shared by many in the GLOW community.

A group shot of GLOW fans with Manny representing his favorite, Americana

In his eagerness to connect with the GLOW girls, Manny used to call GLOW’s 900 number without parental permission. Much like myself, he made those calls from his grandparent's home, though I made calls pretty much anywhere I could dial the number. When his uncle discovered the phone bill, Manny never admitted it was him who made the calls, even though it was probably obvious who the culprit was. This little secret added a mischievous twist to his GLOW fan journey.

Manny has been on multiple GLOW cruises, forging lasting friendships with the GLOW girls and fellow fans. He’s met many original GLOW personalities, including his favorite, Americana, and has even purchased four of her paintings, which are proudly displayed in his living room.

Much like myself, Manny has always been curious about the fans in the televised audience from the Riviera Hotel, wondering about their stories. During my time working and living in Las Vegas, I walked through the Riviera Hotel and asked a few employees about GLOW. Despite its iconic status in television history, I only found one person who worked at the hotel during that time. She mentioned that it wasn’t there long and she barely remembered it.

I would love for anyone who sat in the audience to contact me so I could add their stories to our GLOW stories. Their experiences would be a valuable addition to our shared history and memories.
Back in the 1980s, Manny was disappointed that no official GLOW girl action figures were created—a sentiment shared by many fans, including myself. However, a couple of years ago, a talented individual named Wanda Maness began creating GLOW action figures and even made custom figures of Americana and David McLane for Manny, fulfilling one of his long-held wishes.

Like most original GLOW fans, Manny hopes that all four seasons of GLOW will be released, along with the unaired matches that Matt Cimber and others have mentioned are still in existence. The anticipation of seeing these unaired matches keeps the GLOW spirit alive among devoted fans.
Manny loves Netflix’s GLOW series and was disappointed when the fourth season was canceled during production. He has always enjoyed seeing strong and empowering women on television, which is why GLOW holds a special place in his heart.

I met Manny in Long Beach, California, on the night of a party featuring the ladies of GLOW. David McLane was also there, not to meet fans or attend the party, but by chance, on the beautiful Queen Mary before setting sail on the Carnival Imagination in 2016. Since then, Manny and I have cruised together with the ladies of GLOW in 2017 on the Norwegian Dawn from New Orleans, in 2018 on the Norwegian Breakaway from New York, and again in 2024 on the Norwegian Encore from Miami. Manny is one of the most fun people to hang out with, and he absolutely loves to dance. We share a mutual love for Paula Abdul, whom we’ve both had the pleasure of meeting at different times in our lives.

I hope you enjoyed getting to know Manny and his incredible GLOW journey. Manny is active on Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube, and you can find him at:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/manuel.briano
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mannyb175
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/MannyB175

If you have similar stories or memories of your own, please share them in the comments below. Your feedback and shared experiences help build a wonderful community. If you'd like to support this effort, your contributions are greatly appreciated. Even small gestures of support mean a lot as we continue this journey of storytelling and connection. Thank you! ❤️

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The Magic of the Waterbeds My Sister and I Got After Moving to Florida: A Nostalgic Look Back

Back when my family first moved to Florida, my parents decided to surprise my sister and me with waterbeds from Waterbed Gallery. It was such an exciting moment! I got a super single, while my sister was treated to a queen-sized bed. Both of them were full motion, which was a blast at first. The gentle swaying motion of the waterbeds was something we quickly fell in love with, making bedtime a fun experience. The feeling of the water gently rocking us to sleep was like nothing we’d experienced before.

One of the coolest features of our waterbeds was the heater. During the hot Spring, Summer, and Fall months, we discovered we could turn off the heaters to stay cool while we slept. It was like having an internal air conditioning system built right into the bed! This was incredibly useful during our summers spent under the Florida sun. We were always warm to the touch, whether from a tan or a fever, and the cool bed offered such comfort. When the temperatures dipped in the winter, we’d switch the heaters back on, making our beds warm and cozy. It felt so luxurious to snuggle up in a heated bed on a chilly night. The flexibility of adjusting the bed’s temperature to suit the season was something I absolutely loved.

My granny would come to visit and she would often sleep on my waterbed. Despite it being quite different from a traditional mattress, she really liked it, often stating that her back didn’t hurt as much. Though I would be sequestered to the living room couch while she was with us, losing my bed for the duration of her visit, I loved having her stay. It was worth it to see her so comfortable and happy on my unique bed.

That waterbed lasted over 10 years and through three moves before it finally sprung a leak in one of the seams that couldn’t be patched. It was a sad day when my dad and I realized it was beyond repair. When we priced a new waterbed mattress, it turned out to be too expensive to justify, especially since I was in and out of town a lot by then. So, we opted to buy a conventional mattress and use the waterbed frame as my base. The waterbed had served me well, and I had to let it go. Its durability over the years was impressive, but all good things eventually come to an end.

Not to mention, kids in the neighborhood were super jealous of my waterbed and always wanted to sleep over. But I hardly let anyone on my bed because I was afraid they would mess it up. Years later, my boyfriend in Kentucky had a waterbed too, but his was motionless and definitely not the same. Looking back, my waterbed was one of my favorite beds ever. It had that unique mix of comfort and fun that’s hard to beat. Of course, nowadays I sleep on a Serta iSeries memory foam mattress, which I love for its support and comfort. But there will always be a special place in my heart for those waterbed days and the fond memories that came with them. From the gentle rocking motion to the customizable warmth, it was an experience that brought joy and comfort in equal measure.

I hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane, reminiscing about the magic of waterbeds. Do you have any fond memories, personal stories, or experiences with unique beds? I’d love to hear about them in the comments. Your stories make this journey all the more special. If you enjoyed this post and would like to support my storytelling journey, any small token of appreciation is always welcome. Let’s keep the joy of sharing memories and stories alive together!

A Christmas Memory: Rediscovering "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear"

My sister and I spent a good portion of our childhoods glued to the TV, especially during the colder months. Despite living in Alabama and later in Florida, we felt the chill of winter, at least as far as I can remember. Snow was a rarity, although we did witness some flurries a few times in the mid-80s.
A few Christmases after our move to Florida, my sister and I were already settled down, having inspected all the treasures Santa had left for us and eaten breakfast. We began watching a random Christmas movie on TV that neither of us had ever seen before. It looked fairly recent but had a somewhat dated feel. That movie was "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear."

I only saw the movie that one time, but it left a lasting impression. I wished I could have watched it again, but it was never available at the video store where we rented movies and a VCR. I'm unsure if it was ever released on home video at the time, but even if it had been, it wouldn't have mattered much since we didn't own a VCR—we always rented one until years later when my mom finally bought one.
Even though I remembered the name of the movie, it never seemed to re-air, or if it did, it slipped past my notice. My sister and I recalled its title, but I'm unsure if it resonated with her as deeply as it did with me. I loved it and searched the TV guide every year, hoping it would come back.

"It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" is one of those films that fly under the radar yet still tell a captivating story. The movie centers around a widowed grandfather, played by the legendary Mickey Rooney, who is granted one last Christmas on Earth to spend with his grandson. It was a low-key movie, not exactly a full-blown Christmas film, and had a tinge of sadness to it. The movie was released as a made-for-TV film in 1984 and, while it didn't achieve massive fame, it earned a special place in my heart.

While it may not be a traditional holiday classic, "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" captured the essence of the season for me. The movie's nostalgic and heartfelt story resonated with my own experiences of Christmas, making it a cherished memory from my childhood. Despite the sadness woven into its plot, the film reminded me of the importance of love and the simple joys of life, especially during the holiday season.

Saturday GLOWcase: The Unforgettable Tiffany Mellon of GLOW

This week's Saturday GLOWcase is all about the Park Avenue Knockout from season three and four of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling, Tiffany Mellon.

Shortly after I began watching GLOW, it was already towards the end of season 2. The TV station in my area, WPMI Channel 15, decided to drop the show after the season 2 finale, which ended with the infamously edited match where Tina lost her crown to Ninotchka.

My family were the kind of people who bought the TV Guide on a weekly basis. My mom, dad, sister, and I would scan the pages looking for programs we wanted to watch, and I would always look a week beforehand. I didn’t care much for what aired Monday through Friday because that was usually when my parents controlled the TV, but Saturday and Sunday mornings were all mine. That’s when I focused on finding my new favorite show, the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.

I searched through every TV guide twice for an entire summer. Then my parents stopped buying the TV Guide and relied on the free TV listings that came in the newspaper, which made it a little harder to scan. One evening, I opened up the free TV listing and couldn’t believe my eyes: “44 WJTC - GLOW.” A different station, but still an independent and very much local channel. Could this be the same GLOW? I didn't know, but that weekend, I was ready to see if Tina would win back that crown from the Russian.

The opening of the 3rd season seemed a little different than season 2, but I didn’t really pay much attention until a glittery-haired blonde lady at a typewriter introduced herself as “Tiffany Mellon” with all the GLOW gossip. She was beautiful and had a crazy high-pitched laugh. Did I like her? I wasn’t sure…until the very first match of that season featuring herself and another newcomer, Godiva.

Tiffany Mellon, portrayed by actress and former exotic dancer Sandra Margot, quickly became one of the standout characters in GLOW. Her glamorous persona, combined with her bubbly and sometimes mischievous demeanor, made her a fan favorite. Tiffany was known for her elaborate gold outfit, dazzling jewelry, gold glittered hair and makeup and, of course, her signature laugh that could be heard across the arena.

In the ring, Tiffany Mellon was no pushover. She demonstrated impressive wrestling skills and was involved in some of the most memorable matches in GLOW history. Whether she was taking a beating from the likes of Godiva, as seen in her debut match, or receiving piledrivers from Beastie and Major Tanya, Tiffany always made an impact. When she had the upper hand, she delivered her own brand of justice with precision. Her matches were thrilling and filled with entertaining storylines that kept fans on the edge of their seats. If you were a fan of the bad girls, you couldn’t help but feel her pain. And if you were a fan of the good girls, you were always rooting for her to pull through, especially during those seemingly devastating moves like piledrivers. Tiffany's character development throughout the seasons kept fans hooked and eager to see what she would do next.

Sandra Margot’s acting skills went beyond her portrayal of the spoiled rich girl persona, Tiffany Mellon. She also took on the dual role of “Sarah,” one half of the hickster tag team “Sarah and Mabel.” Sarah was the one in green. This versatility showcased her talent and ability to bring diverse characters to life, further endearing her to GLOW's dedicated fan base once they discovered who was behind the mask.

Sandra’s performances, both as Tiffany and Sarah, contributed significantly to the charm and appeal of GLOW. She brought a unique energy and charisma to the ring, provided natural comic relief, and wasn't afraid to introduce a bit of silliness to the forefront, making her a standout performer among the roster of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling.

After her time on GLOW, Sandra Margot transitioned to the adult film industry, where she became Tyffany Million and performed with some of the top names, including Ron Jeremy. Her career shift was notable and she continued to make a name for herself in a completely different arena where she performed in over 100 X-rated films before rolling into another career shift, as a private investigator and bounty hunter and found herself starring in her own family friendly reality television show called "Wife, Mom, Bounty Hunter." Sandra was not just a bounty hunter, she was a bounty hunter with a heart. Sandra, or shall I say Tyffany Million, is planning to return to the adult entertainment industry and has been active with OnlyFans as well as Loyal Fans

Tiffany Mellon and the other Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling left an indelible mark on the world of professional wrestling. They paved the way for future generations of female wrestlers, breaking barriers and proving that women could be both fierce competitors and captivating entertainers. Tiffany’s unique character and memorable moments continue to be celebrated by fans old and new. Sandra’s current life is as colorful as her time in GLOW and beyond. She’s been planning a return to entertainment on her own terms. To help with her comeback, Sandra has organized a GoFundMe campaign to assist with augmentation of her breasts as one has ruptured and is in need of reconstruction. If you would like to donate to Sandra’s GoFundMe, please click here or on the following link.

Childhood Sleepovers: Friday Nights At Aunt Joan's House

Back when my sister and I were too young to stay home alone, we were always dropped off at Aunt Joan's whenever my parents went out for the evening, usually to the Mobile Greyhound Park. I never understood their fascination with the dog track, but I always looked forward to spending the night at Aunt Joan's house. She knew how to make sleepovers special for me. As long as she had plenty of Coca-Cola and potato chips, I was set.

When we arrived, Aunt Joan and her daughters would usually be putting the finishing touches on dinner. It was often fried chicken or pork chops, accompanied by fried okra or fried squash, cornbread or biscuits, and fresh peas or beans from Joan's fields, all served with a big glass of sweet tea. My mom's cooking was hit or miss, aside from a few dishes she did well, so Aunt Joan's meals were always a treat. Her fabulous country cooking filled the void.

Aunt Joan was one of the most special people I've ever met, showing unconditional love for her kids, siblings, and their kids. Growing up, I often wished my mom could be more like Joan, especially when it came to cooking. We were a close-knit family back in the day, despite some unfortunate incidents involving unruly family members. I'll touch on those stories, including holiday brawls, in future posts.

After dinner, we kids would hang out on the patio, play in the fields, or jump on the trampoline. Being the smallest, I mostly got bounced around by everyone else. We had free rein of the 13-acre property, except for the swampy area known as "The Branch," which was off-limits due to snakes and other dangers. As night fell, we'd take turns in the two bathrooms. I can still remember the smell of Aunt Joan's soap, similar to Coast Pacific Force. Once clean, we’d head to the den, a large, cozy room with minimal light, a TV in the corner, a fireplace, a huge console stereo, and a Fun Machine Organ. We’d make pallets on the floor with blankets and pillows, play board games, and watch TV with an endless supply of chips and soda. Friday nights were all about watching "Dallas," to see JR’s next move and if Sue Ellen could stay sober for an episode.

At some point, Aunt Joan would bring out the pickles—her bread and butter pickles were the absolute best. She grew her own vegetables and preserved them, filling a small room with mason jars of pickles, blackberry jelly, and other goodies. I wasn't big on veggies back then, but at Aunt Joan's, everything was delicious. By 11 PM, I’d usually pass out watching TV, except for one memorable time when my cousin Lynda’s hamster, Herman, escaped. Waking up to my sister and cousins trying to catch Herman was quite the adventure.

The next morning, I'd wake up to the smell of bacon or sausage and eggs, signaling that mom and dad would be picking us up soon. Those mornings always passed too quickly. When my mom arrived, she never asked how our night was—probably because she didn’t want to hear how much more fun we had at Aunt Joan's compared to home. Our routine at home was similar, minus the den, soda, chips, great food, pickles, and the occasional hamster on the loose.