With a name like Tinker Hatfield, the famous shoe designer and architect seems destined for fame. Tinker Hatfield is an American designer and currently the Vice President for Design and Special Projects at Nike, best known for his work on the Air Jordan brand, including the Air Jordan III (credited for saving Jordan’s relationship with Nike), the Air Max 1, and other iconic shoe models. In 2019, he was even presented with his own sneaker, the Nike React Tinker Hatfield at SXSW.
After receiving a Bachelor’s degree in Architecture at the University of Oregon, where he was a pole vaulter, Hatfield joined Nike in 1981 and began working on sneaker design in 1985. He soon after designed the Air Max 1, the Air Trainer 1, the Nike Air MAG as shown in Back to the Future II, and the Air Max 90–all within his first five years at the company. These shoe designs remain ever-popular among sneaker-savvy fans, for their classic, timeless aesthetic.
In 2011, Hatfield designed the graphics for the Matthew Knight Arena at his alma mater, the University of Oregon, which features fir tree silhouettes that outline the basketball court.
“The Architect’s” trendsetting designs have earned him the title of one of the most influential designers of the sneaker and fashion world. To this day, he continues to elevate the Nike brand and footwear as we know it. When you wear a pair of sweet Nikes, it’s probably due to Tinker.
The characteristic sign of any sort of civilization is a wizard’s tower. Power is held and distributed by those at the top, so what a wonderful metaphor for these imbalanced structures set into place as the structure of our civilization for millennia. Folks fear those who stand tall above them, they cower beneath such deified figures when instead, such magically inclined people are just as flawed and scarred as the rest of us lowly folk (in different, more complex manners).
Now I may merely be a lowly magician, for I possess no obtuse obelisk as brash as The Headmaster’s pointy stick at the center of town, but I digress. There is no shame in sequestering yourself to a humble cottage at the side of a river, or a cozy 9 person shared room in the slums of the west end of the city. Such is the life of a magician of lesser stature than myself. I assure you, my most devoted students, that you will find yourselves easily to the middle stratum of magical labor (to be honest, high society isn’t realistic for you all).
As you all understand, the title of Wizard is a highly coveted political status, and the way of asserting your mindless dominance over the rest of the community is to retreat to the highest point in the highest city where no other person can reach you. You cackle at the humble congregations and convents, you mock the puny scale of the university, you spit at the 15-foot walls which are meant to protect the law-abiding citizens of this settlement.
Who is there with you? No one; a wizard can never manage time for a partner. Who is there to comfort you when you small little universe that you’ve created crumbles at the realization that there exists another wizard more powerful than you, a wizard whose tower extends beyond even the clouds, and you must take it, you must breathe in the same air as a greatness and profound intelligence that you may never achieve. These wizards, they are higher than kings. They are higher than gods. What happens when your deific power is pitted against another force of unimaginable magnitude? Well, you must once again assert your position on the theoretical totem pole. Climbing the ladder, riding high, falling down, rinsing, repeating, cutting the throats of your colleagues, destroying the final enemy in your ultimate pursuit of academic dominance. What is it worth when your bones crumble the same as your pitiful tower, and your precious memory remains only on the tongues of street minstrels speaking of your deepest misfortunes decades later?
No, wizard towers are defined by their unapologetic expression of superiority and idiocy. Hubris, it is all hubris, and the lower one is to the earth, the easier it is to see the absurdity of removing oneself from the restful hands which birthed all life.
I apologize, again. I may have gotten sidetracked and expanded our time…
For this week’s installment I decided that rather than writing about only one film, I’d write about three films: Mac and Me, Earth Girls Are Easy, and Stay Tuned. These three weren’t well-received by critics, but they hold a special place in my heart as goofy cult classics. Although they aren’t necessarily “good”, each of these sci-fi comedies is far more entertaining than their ratings would have you believe. Grab some popcorn, candy, and your favorite beverage, and settle in for a silly triple feature.
Mac and Me (1988):
This is one of those rare films that is just so bad it’s good. The titular alien, MAC (Mysterious Alien Creature) just wants to return to his family, but instead he ends up at the home of young Eric Cruise (Jade Calegory). Eric must then convince his friends and family to help guide MAC home. Sound familiar? It should, because Mac and Me is essentially an E.T. rip-off funded by product placement. The film was pitched by producer R.J. Louis — who had connections to fast food giant McDonald’s through advertising work and Ronald McDonald House charities — as a promotion for McDonald’s. One of the highlights of this wholesome alien advertisement is a dance sequence at McDonald’s, featuring Ronald McDonald himself (and an uncredited young Jennifer Aniston in her very first role). The additions of life-saving Coca Cola, a trip to the mall, and a pink Cadillac in the final scene couldn’t be a more cheesy love letter to American consumers.
I love this film so much because the more I learn about it, the more I wonder how it ever got made. The sheer ridiculousness of Mac and Me is what kept me glued to the screen. Come on, a film funded by McDonald’s in which the main character’s name is MAC? How could you not giggle the whole way through?
Earth Girls Are Easy (1989):
Ever wanted to see Jeff Goldblum, Jim Carrey, and Damon Wayans transform from fuzzy aliens to 80’s California hunks? Here’s your chance. In Earth Girls Are Easy, L.A. manicurist Valerie (Geena Davis) kicks out her rude fiancé only to discover aliens have crash landed in her pool. After a classic makeover sequence, Valerie, her friend Candy, and the aliens hit the town and learn all about 80’s pop culture and what it means to be human. Along the way, the cast breaks out into multiple musical numbers and dance sequences. In 2001 Earth Girls Are Easy was set to be adapted into a stage musical, and if it hadn’t flopped I firmly believe it would have been an instant classic.
This film gave me such warm feelings because it exudes a carefree atmosphere. The premise was so strange and charming that the film didn’t feel its hour and forty minute run time at all. It has all the kitschiness of a more popular 80’s rom-com, but the extraterrestrial twist gives the film the bonus weird factor that it needs to be permanently burned into my brain.
Stay Tuned (1992):
Don’t sit too close to the television for this one, kids. Stay Tuned stars John Ritter as Roy, a television-obsessed couch potato who accepts a mysterious offer for a new state of the art satellite dish. He and his wife, Helen (Pam Dawber), are sucked into “Hellevision”, a gruesome game show in which the contestants must survive for 24 hours. If not, their souls are stuck in Hellevision forever, and it’s up to their kids Darryl (David Tom) and Diane (Heather McComb) to save them. This film parodies over twenty television shows and films in delightfully devilish ways — one of my personal favorites being “Duane’s Underworld”. As they journey through these parodies, the whole family learns what is truly important: each other.
Stay Tuned is one of the most amusing satires of media consumption I’ve ever seen. Even if younger audiences might not understand every reference, it’s still well worth the watch. The idea that even Hell itself has had to adapt to technological advancement is comedic gold, and the actors absolutely nail every gag. In the age of Netflix binging and rising screen time, Stay Tuned is just as relevant, and just as goofy.
No matter which one of these films you choose for a lighthearted movie night, you’re bound to have a good time. Who cares what the critics say? Sit back, relax, and revel in the cheesiness.
(Preface: Ypsi is short for Ypsilanti which is where I am currently residing!)
A few days ago, when the temperature was; you guessed it; 73degrees, I took a walk around my town for about 50 minutes. I quite literally picked a direction and started walking, trekking through EMU’s campus and taking in their surprisingly expansive campus (which I do not attend). I didn’t need music or a friend, I just wanted to walk. Obviously, it was wonderful.
Most, if not all, of the people I’ve talked to over these past few days have shared the fact that they went on a walk in the nice weather. It’s actually quite impressive how Universal post-winter walks are among humanity. A part of me thinks it’s about freedom. Like all of Winter you need to bundle up and layer on jacket over coat to even walk to your car, now this nice weather comes along and you’re able to go outside un-encumbered.
But, anyways, these walks. They’re quite peculiar to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love them. It’s a refreshing, exhilarating journey every time, and the magic has still not worn off yet. However, I feel there’s a commonly used trope that when you are on these walks and in an exceptional mood, your environment automatically becomes “brighter”. Both in the figurative sense where you see your surroundings in a more favorable perspective, and in a very literal sense where everything just seems more vibrant than before. However, I’d like to challenge this notion.
I don’t live in a particularly pretty spot in Ypsi. Coming out my front door, I’ve never been blown away by what I’m saw, and nothing was different for this walk. I still noticed the paint chipping from my porch, the splotches of dead grass on my neighbor’s yard, all of it. I soaked it in just as much as on any other day. But doing so didn’t affect my mood at all!
I don’t know why this is. I’m a firm believer that your environment strongly affects your disposition. Your surroundings reflect what you see in them onto you, at least a little. But during this walk, the opposite was true. I suppose it could’ve just been too strong an emotion for those things to overcome, but I’m not entirely sure.
The only thing I can truly say is that the “first walk of Spring” unpacks all the anxiety and mental-clutter that built up during the Winter, because mmman does it feel cathartic.
[To read an introduction to this column, please see the first paragraph of the initial post here]
This week’s post is a little different from the last few. Featured is one of my favorite poems that for some reason embedded itself in my mind and has never left. I wrote a short essay analyzing the poem, and by sharing it I hope to give a small taste of how poems can work, even really short ones like this one. I hope you enjoy it!
