First, I just have to say I have always and forever and a day LOVED Tinkerbell. I know, she's supposed to be a flirt, a little naughty, and actually kind of annoying, but I have always been a huge fan of hers. When I was little and watched Mary Martin in the original (to me) Peter Pan, I was simply overwhelmed when her little light flickered, fluttered, waned, and went out. I admit to unashamed wailing and crying until my mother threatened to turn of the television. I was screaming at the top of my voice, "I DO BELIEVE IN FAIRIES!" To this day it makes me cry to remember how desolate I felt about all that death and dying for fairies. Well, of course, Tinkerbell revived, life was amazingly good, and I grew up (somewhat). At 50, I discovered that Tinkerbell, the Disney version I always envision her to be, and I are the same age. Well, of course we are! I privately collected a few things: a cherished little ceramic piece from my aunt and uncle on one of their trips to California when I was a little girl, my View Master Tinkerbell reels, a lunch box, a patch, and a purse. There.
Then, the movie came out called Neverland. Something deep inside me sounded that little bell. I kind of hinted at taking my students, but my intuitive Tinkerbell warned me I better reserve this movie for Home Alone viewing (something my friends know about me. It might need to be placed in the ranks of Beaches, A League of Their Own, and Message in a Bottle ---which I inadvertently went to the show to see---big mistake!). These are the movies that need me to sit there in my darkened den with a hanky, my confused and very sympathetically attentive cat, and absolutely no one in the house to hear me howl. It's not pretty, and it's painful, so for this reason I have never seen Titanic, never watched Millennium Man, never ever opened the cellophane on a gifted copy of The Notebook, and makes me wish to high heaven I'd never watched Philadelphia, Bridges of Madison County, or Life is Beautiful.
The story of J.M. Barrie is mesmerizing and hauntingly sad sad sad. It would have to be in order for him to write such beautiful prose in his stories. The real book of Peter Pan is terribly sad, very heart breaking, and poetic beyond the level of the cartoons and stage versions. Barrie's personal life is horrible! A little boy haunted by the death of his brother, dons his brother's clothes to become a semblance of the little lost boy for whom his mother moans and mourns. J.M. Barrie lived that life and became someone other than himself to try to coax his happy mother back. Amazingly sad, huh? I have a long long post about mothers he authored that I'll share in a day or two. I'm toying with a birthday video experience for myself alone to see Neverland. Any advice? Is it breathtakingly sad? I always try to find something special and watch it for my birthday week. My list includes a couple of Meryl Streep beauties including Music From the Heart and Sophie's Choice (another movie I almost wish I'd never seen). One of my favorites that promotes no remorse is How Stella Got Her Groove Back! I think it would be fun to be a sistah!
I named one of my favorite little dogs of all time the most perfect name of all time: Tinkerbell. She was a spot on namesake for this little miss, full of spunk, born the runt of the litter of my grandmother's beloved border collie Queen. She lived to be quite old, and she was the apple of my eye and my bestest friend in the whole world as a little girl. How could I have known I was actually a Tinkerbell myself... Not in looks, (oh, I wish! ) Not in actual flibertigibit actions, (Oh, I kinda wish!) but in soul and in spirit. I carry a Tinkerbell purse at times. It may, no, probably does look odd being carried by a big old lady.... Who could possibly discover that lurking inside is the soul of a fairy princess? Duh... Probably anyone who sees my kitchen today! It's time to exit Neverland and get busy!
.... or Should I watch that movie?