Thursday, December 12, 2013

Fuck you Disney

I'm 36 years old. Wait...37? No, no, 36. And I love cartoons. They're innocent and fun and they allow me to escape grown-updom a little bit. I will defend every single one I watch.

Except Disney.

I've watched Walt's creations since I was small and I have fond memories tied into nearly every story. Back before they were really about the new "princess", they had such a wonderful story vibe. They whisked you away with clever songs and brightly colored backgrounds.
I remember thinking in high school,'They're going to run out of fairy tales." And then Aladdin came out and I was like, 'whoa.'

I have seen nearly all of them-Cinderella a favorite followed closely by Alice in Wonderland and later, The Little Mermaid. But not because of Cinderella's dress or Ariel's hair. (For Alice it was all about the fantastic adventure and I'll probably watch that one before any of the others.) No it was about mom and me curled up on the couch reading those stories and then watching them together. Watching them so many times that we could quote them to one another and I'd often catch mom humming "Kiss the Girl" while she did dishes.

I love The Parent Trap because I've always wanted a twin and Pollyanna because I always wanted to live somewhere that had a white gazebo in the park and they had street fairs with giant pieces of yellow cake run by women that smelled like lilacs.

I put myself into those movies. I became Alice, and Ariel with all her crustacean buddies. Hell, Triton might as well have been my dad. I was nice like Pollyanna and clever like the twins from Parent Trap.

It wasn't until Nemo that I noticed the all the death. Someone always dies (or is already dead) in Disney flicks. If they aren't dead, they have some sort of parental issue. Incredibles is the first one that comes to mind where a main character doesn't die. Unless you count Gaser Beam and I totally don't.

As I've said, I've seen almost all of them and tonight I started to rewatch Dumbo. Despite my love of elephants, something had been holding me back from watching the classic again as an adult. Tonight I pushed play on Netflix and started crying five minutes in. All the feels!  I couldn't handle it. The mom was sad cause the stork flaked and all the other animals had their babies. Then the old "mean girl" elephants gave her all kinds of the business when the stork finally did show, and then they laughed at her kid! Bitches.  I didn't even remember she named him Jumbo Jr., not Dumbo! 

And then I started thinking about my feelings watching Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer the other night. How it was full of bullying and sexist comments and how much both me and Disney have changed over the years.
Except for all the death and weird family issues.

I guess if Disney taught me anything, it's that death and bad things will always be there. I just have to chose how I'm going to deal with them.


I like making lists.

Little Mermaid:  Where's Mrs. Triton? Dead? Dad is overly protective
Alice in Wonderland: It's her sister reading the book in the beginning. No mum and daddy? Also, drugs much?
Cinderella: dad died,  Cindy gets a wicked stepmother
Beauty & the Beast: no mom, dad's mental, Belle has a creepy stalker
Aladdin: street rat=orphan Also, Jasmine's mom is nowhere to be found
Finding Nemo: mom gets eaten
Bambi: Bang!
Snow White: Mom died,  dad remarries hag
Sleeping Beauty: parents leave her with fairies
Sword in the Stone: orphan adopted by crazy old man
Mary Poppins: mom and dad are totally self involved; kids are practically orphans until weird woman comes out of the sky and gives them medicine that makes them hallucinate
Jungle Book: orphan, raised by wolves
Up: that first fucking ten minutes
Pinnochio: made of wood, gets eaten by a whale, not a 'real' boy
Lion King: dad gets trampled to death by WILDEBEESTS


I think I've made my point. And really, it's just this. If you're having a shit day, maybe missing your mom a little, don't watch Dumbo.








An Evening with Frankie

I love Frank Sinatra. His voice is so soft and relaxed and...true.

All of his songs are wonderful but my favorite is "The Way You Look Tonight". The finger snaps and easy rhymes. The innocent flirting with the lilts in his eyes. Even if you didn't already know he had beautiful baby blues, you would be able to tell from the way he sang.

The lyrics to that song are so great.


Some day, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheek so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look tonight

With each word your tenderness grows
Tearin' my fear apart
And that laugh..wrinkles your nose
Touches my foolish heart

Lovely ... Never, never change
Keep that breathless charm
Won't you please arrange it ? 'cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight



I mean, seriously. How can you not get all swoon-y when that song is playing? It conjures all kinds of things for me. It reminds me of my friend-it's the only song I'd dance to in the bar. He always asked me and we'd do the silly dip and twirl dance on alcohol stained carpets but it meant the world to me. Especially when I had a crush on him. 

(Ok, I copy/pasted the lyrics and now there's a weird gap in my paragraphs and it's driving me nuts but I can't figure out how to fix it so I'm just going to keep going and pretend it's fine)

I think about Guys and Dolls (Frankie's in it) and how adorable that movie is. It's so simple-almost Tarzan grunt simple-because it's a musical so everyone falls in love within the time it takes to sing about it. Simple.  I grew up watching musicals so maybe that's why I'm so stuck on the idea that love shouldn't be so damn hard.

Figured out that the whole knight on a horse thing didn't happen a long time ago but (Wait. Are my paragraphs normal again? Sweet.) I never really stopped hoping that I'd have romance. My parents were very affectionate with one another. Dad would come in from doing Dad things and kiss the back of my mom's neck as she washed dishes. They rarely called each other by their actual names. It was always, Love, Dear, Sweetheart, Honey...and those endearments have trickled into my own vocabulary. I was lucky to have both of my parents for as long as I did. I never doubted that they loved each other and that they were happy with each other-even if they weren't. Watching them made me hope for something similar.

Listening to Frankie brings that romance out of me. It makes me want to wear bobby socks and poodle skirts a little too but mostly it makes my heart all full and mushy. It makes me wish for sweet kisses on the back of the neck, for someone to beg me to never change. For someone to admit there is nothing for them, but to love me.