I was thinking of ways that I could make this blog a lot more entertaining and interesting to read. After all, the more readers that read my work and like it, the bigger the boost of confidence that I inevitably get as a result.
It is a bit hard to write this blog without constantly coming up with fresh and original ideas and angles to discuss. So, to add to the fun, I've been toying with the idea of coming up with theme weeks. The days will still have their own distinct genre, but the whole week will be dedicated to a specific theme.
I figure that I would test the waters for the week of June 20-26, just to see how it plays out, and if you like the idea, I may do more features as I think of them.
This week's theme is all about Fantasy and Imagination. The blog entries featured this week will either focus on people who have imaginary friends, who have some sort of dream or fantasy, or maybe a combination of both.
Hence the term Fantasy and Imagination.
So, let's kick off this entry by looking back at a movie which may have bombed in the box office, but ended up being one of my all-time favourite movies. Go figure.
Drop Dead Fred starred Phoebe Cates and Rik Mayall, and when it was first released in movie theatres on April 19, 1991, it flopped.
Reportedly, it was panned and ripped apart by Hollywood critics. Leonard Maltin issued this review of the film, stating that "Phoebe Cates' appealing performance can't salvage this putrid mess ... recommended only for people who think nose-picking is funny."
Ah, what does he know anyway? He works on Entertainment Tonight, after all.
Personally, I loved the movie. I'll defend the movie until the day I die. I guess in admitting that, I admit to being a part of the 'cult following', but hey, as long as I don't drink the Kool-Aid, it's all golden.
So, here's the plot of the film. You have the main character in the film, Lizzie (Cates) who we're first introduced to at the age of five years old. We see a cute little scene where her mother reads her a story, and it's here where we sort of get a glimpse into who Lizzie really is.
Flash forward twenty-one years later, and we can see that Lizzie is the perfect description of 'damaged goods'. Having a mother who has emotionally abused her and an ex-husband who gets joy in controlling her, she basically has been left without a backbone. She can't figure out how to stand up to those who make her feel bad about herself.
Oh, Lizzie...I know exactly how you feel. I had my backbone turn to jelly many times before, and know what it is like to be the doormat. And, yes, like Lizzie, I kept my feelings incredibly repressed to the point where I ended up committing self-destructive behaviour against myself. I kind of shut down, just like Lizzie did in the film.
But, enough about me.
On what could be considered to be the worst day of Lizzie's life, she gets talked down to by her ex, has her car stolen, loses her job, and ends up having to be forced to move back home with her abusive mother.
How's that for bad karma?
As soon as Lizzie arrives back to her childhood home, we start to learn more about her childhood as she explores the objects scattered throughout the room. One such object is a taped-up jack-in-the-box. The box was the home of her childhood imaginary friend, who she called 'Drop Dead Fred', and you'll see how the box ended up getting taped up in this scene below.
The clip kind of explains a lot, doesn't it?
Thankfully, my mother was never that cruel to me as a child. At least in this sense, I can't relate. But it's funny how such a simple thing can alter the course of one's life.
As far as my life is concerned, having to move around to different houses every year or two within the first five years of my life was hard. Perhaps maybe that's why I have such a desire to carve out my own place in this world, no matter what. Or, maybe it's because of the fact that because I never really had the opportunity to find myself in my childhood that I want to make up for that now. Who can say, really?
At least Lizzie had that childhood friend as that outlet. A few people may dismiss the idea of having an imaginary friend as proof that the child is 'messed up' and 'needs professional help'. And, yes, I admit I've heard those labels from some...ahem...less than kind adult influences in my life and times.
You want to know what I think? I think it's perfectly fine to have an outlet to vent to. As long as the outlet wasn't really self-destructive to the person who vents, I'm all for it. If that means making a mud pie on the kitchen table because your imaginary friend tells you to, so be it. At worst, you may be grounded until the age of fifteen, but what the heck, right?
I remember when I was four years old, I happened to get into some family member's cosmetics counter, and ended up pouring an entire bottle of Oil Of Olay all over my head (keeping in mind that I had just seen an Oil Of Olay commercial on television no less than half an hour before that). I wouldn't exactly say that my family's reaction to the idea was received all that well (I remember getting in trouble for it), but it's also an event that we can look back on and laugh.
I think Lizzie's dad was sort of like that. He understood that 'Drop Dead Fred' was an outlet for Lizzie, and thought it was harmless fun. Her mother on the other hand didn't see it as such.
When Lizzie was making that mud pie in the kitchen, did you notice how happy she was? And when her mother took away the box, you noticed how sad she was? I think there's a reason for that.
Whenever her mother got on her case, she could always count on Drop Dead Fred to cheer her up. And there were a lot of times in which her mother was Lizzie's worst enemy. Drop Dead Fred gave her a way to channel that anger and disappointment into happiness. Sure, it might not have been the best way to go, but she was five. I'm sure she could be forgiven.
Truth be told, I think the creation of Drop Dead Fred in Lizzie's life was the only real control she had, as wild and uncontrollable as he was. He was really the only person in her life who understood her and tried to make her feel better about herself when everything else was falling apart.
And, that's why she decided to bring him back.
Of course, the cuteness of Drop Dead Fred calling her 'snotface' back in her kindergarten years didn't have that same appeal to the now twenty-six year old Lizzie. Lizzie wanted Drop Dead Fred's help to get her back together with her ex-husband, but everytime he tried to assist her, he usually ended up making the situation worse. He ended up sinking her friend's houseboat, and causes her to act erratically when having dinner with her childhood friend, Mickey.
Luckily, Mickey was more understanding about the whole thing...probably moreso than her other friend who became homeless as a result. Whatever the case, Fred did help out in re-establishing a friendship between Mickey and Lizzie.
Of course, when Lizzie continued to talk to Fred, and ended up attacking a musician with a shopping bag, it's enough for her mother to admit her into psychiatric counselling, where Lizzie is forced to take pills that were designed to get rid of Drop Dead Fred once and for all. Lizzie's personality ends up becoming more lethargic in nature, and as a result of this personality shift, she decides to get back together with her ex-husband. However, Fred isn't completely gone.
In fact, when Fred overhears her ex making plans to cheat on her yet again, he tries to warn Lizzie about it. Lizzie tells Fred that she has no choice but to stay with him, because she may never get another shot at love again, and doesn't want to be alone.
Again, Lizzie...I can relate. Believe me when I tell you I can relate big time.
Fred makes one last-ditch effort to make Lizzie see the light.
And the truth set Lizzie free. By facing her demons one final time, she unlocked the part of herself that had been lost all those years ago, and Fred helped her find herself again.
It also proved to be the very last time that Lizzie would ever see Fred again. In order for her to move forward, she had to let go of the past.
I guess in order to move forward, I have to try and let go of the past too. Every day, I'm getting better at it.
When Lizzie returned to the real world, she eventually got her fairy tale ending, albeit a quarter-century delayed. Because she took control of her own destiny, she proved to be one strong woman who finally found the happiness she craved.
Sure, her imaginary friend helped her out...but considering that she created her imaginary friend herself, wouldn't that technically be her own doing that changed the course of her life?
Whatever the debate is, I'll always have a soft spot for this movie. While watching this movie, a part of me really would have liked my own Drop Dead Fred to help me make those life-altering choices...but as anyone who has watched this film knows, there's only so much an imaginary companion can do.
And, there's only so much insurance money that one can get from a deep-sixed houseboat...
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Sunday Jukebox - "Ordinary World" by Duran Duran
Once in a while, you'll hear a song on the radio, or while shopping in a store, or while driving in your car that really strikes a chord in you. A song that somehow manages to find a spot in your soundtrack of life. Perhaps there's a song that reminds you of your first date. Or, a song that was playing the day that you got married. Or, a song that was playing when you were throwing up after a ride on the Tilt-A-Whirl back in the summer of '97.
(That song was Hanson's Mmmbop for the last one, BTW.)
But you get what my point is in this. Once in a while you'll hear a song, and have it be a defining moment in your life. A song that you listen to so much that the cassette gets chewed, the vinyl gets scratched, and the compact disc skips at the 1:11 mark.
In my life soundtrack, this happens to be a song that heavily featured.
So, why does this song have a spot in my life soundtrack?
Well...it's actually a song that I listened to a lot when it first came out, and for about four or five years afterwards. It was a great song, I have to admit, so that only helped.
While Simon LeBon was singing about his departed friend, the more I listened to the lyrics, the more I seemed to have my own thoughts about how they fit into my own situation.
Going back to December 1992 when the song first came out, I was halfway through sixth grade, which was somewhat of an emotional time in my life. At age eleven, I was in a situation where I wasn't exactly sure who I could rely on for friendship because it seemed like they had all drifted off in other directions. I was also at that age where I really didn't want to talk to any family members about my problems. Partly because I didn't think that they could help me, but also partly because I knew that they had their own problems, and because they were older and wiser that their problems were more important to solve than mine were.
LESSON #1: Nobody's problems are any bigger or smaller than anyone else's. It took me years to learn it, but learn it I did.
Anyways, I was kind of at a stage in my life where I didn't know where I was at in life. People who I thought were friends ended up turning on me, and the people who I thought I could come to whenever I needed them were unavailable or ignorant to anything that I felt like sharing with them.
When I first heard the song 'Ordinary World', I guess it had been on the charts for a while, because Casey Kasem had announced that it had dropped six places on the Top 40 charts (slight aside here, I loved Casey's countdown, and was gutted when Ryan Seacrest took over). Immediately, the song's chorus really hit a raw nerve in me.
(That song was Hanson's Mmmbop for the last one, BTW.)
But you get what my point is in this. Once in a while you'll hear a song, and have it be a defining moment in your life. A song that you listen to so much that the cassette gets chewed, the vinyl gets scratched, and the compact disc skips at the 1:11 mark.
In my life soundtrack, this happens to be a song that heavily featured.
ARTIST: Duran Duran
SONG: Ordinary World
ALBUM: Duran Duran (The Wedding Album)
RELEASED: December 2, 1992
PEAK POSITION ON BILLBOARD CHARTS: #3
Duran Duran was actually a band that I initially wasn't into. Granted, I had a reason for it. They released their very first album the same year I was born. My older sister however was a huge fan. I think she only liked the band because she had a crush on one of the Taylors (there were supposedly three band members with the last name Taylor).
I admit now that the band was a real powerhouse in both their native UK and in North America. With several hits released between 1981 and 1988, they certainly had a good run as a band.
By the nineties though, their star power had somewhat faded, and they were having trouble getting back on the charts. In late 1992, a radio DJ in the USA obtained a copy of the then unreleased single 'Ordinary World', and became such a success that the USA was forced to released the single one month earlier than normal (the UK kept the original release date of January 2, 1993, where it peaked at number six).
I can definitely see why the song became a success. The song's haunting melody and emotional lyrics helped the song rise up the charts.
The lyrics of the song are some that have been questioned over the years, but the general consensus is that the song was written by lead singer Simon LeBon in the memory of a deceased friend.
So, why does this song have a spot in my life soundtrack?
Well...it's actually a song that I listened to a lot when it first came out, and for about four or five years afterwards. It was a great song, I have to admit, so that only helped.
While Simon LeBon was singing about his departed friend, the more I listened to the lyrics, the more I seemed to have my own thoughts about how they fit into my own situation.
Going back to December 1992 when the song first came out, I was halfway through sixth grade, which was somewhat of an emotional time in my life. At age eleven, I was in a situation where I wasn't exactly sure who I could rely on for friendship because it seemed like they had all drifted off in other directions. I was also at that age where I really didn't want to talk to any family members about my problems. Partly because I didn't think that they could help me, but also partly because I knew that they had their own problems, and because they were older and wiser that their problems were more important to solve than mine were.
LESSON #1: Nobody's problems are any bigger or smaller than anyone else's. It took me years to learn it, but learn it I did.
Anyways, I was kind of at a stage in my life where I didn't know where I was at in life. People who I thought were friends ended up turning on me, and the people who I thought I could come to whenever I needed them were unavailable or ignorant to anything that I felt like sharing with them.
When I first heard the song 'Ordinary World', I guess it had been on the charts for a while, because Casey Kasem had announced that it had dropped six places on the Top 40 charts (slight aside here, I loved Casey's countdown, and was gutted when Ryan Seacrest took over). Immediately, the song's chorus really hit a raw nerve in me.
And I won't cry for yesterday, there's an ordinary world
Somehow I have to find.
And, as I try to make my way to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive...
Pretty deep words, no?
The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
I wanted to be a part of the ordinary world so badly. A world where everything was right again. A world where everything made sense. A world that didn't scare me so much.
I guess like the song lyrics were saying, I needed to find that place, no matter how treacherous the journey was.
I must have listened to that song at least five hundred times between 1993 and 2000 alone. The song was a real comfort to me during my tumultuous high school years, and the more I listened to it, the more desperate I was to try and find my ordinary world, where I could be happy and carefree, and not care what others think.
I guess in 2011, in many ways, I've found that ordinary world. Through writing in the blog about my unhappy times, and linking them to happier memories, I'm beginning to heal from the pain of yesterday one day at a time. It's an ongoing (and maddening) process, mind you, but I'm learning that crying for yesterday is pretty meaningless when you consider that I'm only thirty years old, and still have lots of time left.
At the same time, I'm realizing that finding my ordinary world is one journey that isn't quite over yet. Sure, I'm a lot more emotionally equipped to handle stress and bad karma. The problem is that I've spent so much time trying to overcome those obstacles that I sort of forgot how to live and enjoy life in the process.
And that's something that I want to fix about myself.
I guess in order to find my ordinary world, I have to learn how to survive in it first. That's the next crucial step in this plan called life. And I guess one positive step is to try and move forward and not give the past hurt I suffered from a second glance. I can't promise you that I will stop bringing it up cold turkey, because I'm not at that stage. But if talking about my experiences helps anyone else who may be in a similar situation speak out about it and not be afraid to confide in people, maybe it's all worth it in the end.
But, that's just my own journey and struggles. I'm interested in hearing from you guys. Have you had difficulties finding your own ordinary world as well?
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Saturday Morning - Miss Piggy
I have to admit that I was a bit torn in choosing Miss Piggy as the subject for the Saturday blog. For one, the Muppet Show wasn't really a weekend show that one would watch while chomping on chocolate milk and Golden Grahams, so how could I bring her up in a note about Saturday morning cartoons?
If you're still trying to figure out the answer, let me jump-start your memory here.
Yes, the Muppet Babies. One of the many juniorizations of the 1980's right ahead of the Flintstones Kids and A Pup Named Scooby-Doo. The Muppet Show, which debuted in the late 1970's proved to be so popular that in 1984, the cartoon series started airing on CBS.
It managed to last seven seasons, finally ending in 1991, along with the majority of Saturday morning cartoons, sadly enough. It certainly lasted longer than the other two series I mentioned, which I believe only lasted a year at the most, maybe two. I guess there was something special about the Muppets that had millions of kids born between 1971 and 1987 tuning in to watch them every Saturday.
I know I liked Muppet Babies when it first aired. Don't get me wrong, I loved the original Muppet Show as well, as it used to air in reruns on YTV back in the early 1990's. As a kid though, watching the Muppet Show (which I assume was mostly targeted towards older kids and adults), sometimes I couldn't quite understand some of the jokes, or know who some of the guest stars were, because many times they were from shows that I didn't like, or had never seen before.
Whereas the Muppet Babies were catered more to my level. The pop culture references were watered down a bit, and focused on things that I had actually heard of, and because the Muppets were toddler aged, I probably had a better chance of understanding them more.
I mean, when Gonzo lost his stuffed chicken in Muppet Babies, I could relate to that more than Gonzo getting shot out of a cannon by some guy from Doctor Who, or what have you.
(I honestly don't even think such a Muppet Show episode exists, but it'd be cool if it did.)
I liked most of the characters that both the Muppet Show and the Muppet Babies featured. Kermit was the star of both, and how could anyone dislike Kermit? Gonzo and Animal were probably my two favourites. Scooter wasn't too bad. Skeeter didn't even appear in the Muppet show, so who knows how she nabbed a spot on Muppet Babies. And I don't care what anyone says. Nanny had the coolest socks.
There was one character who stood out more than anyone though, and that of course is Miss Piggy.
Miss Piggy is probably one of the biggest divas in the world of puppetry. Bigger than Lamb Chop, Muffy from Today's Special, and Prairie Dawn from Sesame Street combined. There's lots of examples of this on the Muppet Show...
...the Muppet Babies...
...even a commercial for potato chips.
All right, I think that's enough.
To tell you the truth, the reason why I chose Miss Piggy as the subject of this blog isn't because she and I are at all alike. I mean, let's face it, I'm not a diva, I don't practice my autograph, and I certainly don't beat anyone up if they try to take my potato chips away.
But she was someone who seemed to have it all.
Yes, granted, she was a pig on the outside, but she knew what she wanted. She knew how to dress to impress, and she knew how to attract the attention of the opposite sex almost flawlessly. And really, don't we all want to be like that?
Well, okay, you can substitute the feather boas for a nice suit, and Kylie Minogue in place of Antonio Sabato Jr in my case. Still the same thing.
At the same time though, I don't know if I could ever be friends, or even date someone who was like Miss Piggy.
Okay, let's scratch off the obvious reason right off the bat. I am a man, while Miss Piggy is a pig puppet with some guy's arm up her...well...you know. It would never work.
But even if Miss Piggy was more like a Miss...um...Peggy. If she were 20-something, long blonde hair, dressed to the nines, and had a nose that didn't resemble a snout, I still probably wouldn't be interested in her.
How come?
Because Miss Piggy is a jealousy driven crazy woman!
Bet you never thought you would read that in a million years, huh?
Seriously, just think about this for a second. Miss Piggy has always been in love with Kermit the Frog, right? Has been going after him for years, maybe even since the Muppet Babies years, who can say?
It's funny then that she pretty much abuses him at every given opportunity. She yells at him constantly, and she isn't exactly the easiest person to get along with if you take her diva demands and her short temper into account.
Now, granted...sometimes the frog had it coming.
But, I ask myself...would I want to be friends with or even date someone who knocks me out cold every time I tell a joke? Definitely not.
The more I look at it, the more I think Miss Piggy has insecurity issues. She's literally someone who has it all, but doesn't think that's enough for her. So, she sort of acts out of character when she feels it suits her, and tries to hide her insecurities behind a face full of make-up and a Bob Mackie glitter gown, made especially for the figure of a full-grown sow.
I sort of can see where Miss Piggy is coming from, because I used to be incredibly insecure about myself. I'm at the point in my life where it's almost all gone, but there's still work that I can do. I'll get through it.
Truth is, I knew quite a lot of people who were like Miss Piggy. On the outside, they appeared to have it all. They had the great upbringing. They had the expensive clothes. They had guys falling at their feet or girls swooning over them, depending on what gender they happen to be. They had everything money could buy. They seemed to be absolutely perfect on the outside.
Peel back the layers of the Guess jeans and Calvin Klein shirts however, and you might find that like Miss Piggy, they may have their flaws that make one think that maybe things aren't so good for them after all. That maybe compared to them, you're better off than you think.
Wow...how's that for overanalysis, eh?
Truth be told, I still adore Miss Piggy, despite all her flaws. If she could find a way to not be as jealous of anyone who gets in between her and Kermit and channel her kung-fu skills for good, she literally would be one unstoppable pig.
If only...
Friday, June 17, 2011
TGIF: Vera Louise Gorman from Alice
The year was 1999. August 1999 to be exact. And in August 1999, I was one very sick eighteen year old.
I was feeling incredibly sick the last part of the summer vacation. I had a cough that would not go away, and my breathing was heavy, and my head was so clogged up with stuff that I thought it would bust like a balloon that had been pricked with a thumbtack.
So, while most people were swimming in pools, and enjoying cooking outdoors, and riding the Tilt-a-Whirl at carnivals so many times that they threw up cherry sno-cones and cotton candy, I was in bed. Sick.
Turns out that I had pneumonia. I battled it from mid-August to early-September that year. Not my finest experience.
I did try to make the best of a bad situation. I hooked up my outdated in '99 Super NES and played some games, and when I wasn't doing that, I watched television.
Good thing I did too, because had I not, I would have missed out on seeing this show in reruns.
A lot of people my age probably don't remember the television show, 'Alice'. Probably because it aired quite some time before I was born, and ended when I was a toddler. It was based on the 1974 motion picture 'Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore'. In the movie and the show, Alice Hyatt, a newly-single mother decides that she needs a fresh start, so she and her son decide to pack up and head to California so Alice can get a job as a singer. Fate causes the car to break down in the state of Arizona, where Alice is forced to take a job at Mel's Diner as a waitress in order to get back on her feet.
The job was supposed to be a temporary one for Alice, but considering that the show ran from 1976 to 1985, temporary seemed to last forever in Alice's world.
One of the main reasons behind Alice's decision to stay at Mel's Diner for so long was partly due to the warmth and kindness of all of her co-workers.
There was Florence Jean "Kiss My Grits" Castleberry, who kind of took Alice under her wing and helped her deal with the transition from singer to diner waitress. She also seemed to have a good working relationship with waitresses Jolene and Belle. Even her stodgy, short-tempered boss Mel seemed to have a soft spot for Alice in some occasions.
And then there was the waitress who happens to be the subject of this blog entry.
Vera Louise Gorman was one of the few waitresses who lasted the run of the whole series, and was one of the first people that made Alice feel at home at Mel's Diner. She was a kind woman who rarely ever had a bad word to say about anyone, and she definitely tried her best to be a good person.
Though like all of us, she did have her flaws. Three of them to be exact. Three flaws that I am guilty of having. Two of them, I've managed to overcome...the third I'm trying to work on.
First flaw...Vera was a klutz. And so was I for that matter.
I mean, if you took a peek at the opening credits of the show, there's one scene that appears in every credit sequence. It's the one where Vera tries to open up a box of straws and the whole thing explodes on her. And, then there was that television commercial that she attempted to do in the first part of this clip...
Now, while I can't really claim to have ever appeared on a television commercial, I do know how Vera feels. I used to be incredibly klutzy.
Here's a true story for you.
When I was first hired at my current job, I started off in the back room of the store. I was hired as an unloader, and one of my duties was to take a pump truck and pull skids of merchandising onto the sales floor for the overnight crew to stock.
Which would have been all fine and dandy had I ever used a pump truck before. I was a pump truck virgin, and I wasn't sure exactly if I could handle the pressure of driving a foreign piece of equipment.
I had no choice though. If I didn't pull the pump truck, I wouldn't have a job. So, I grabbed one of the trucks, and pumped up the skid. That part was easy.
Then I pulled it onto the floor, made a really horrible turn onto the sales floor and took out an entire display of Febreze air fresheners.
Holiday scented Febreze air fresheners.
Holiday scented Febreze air fresheners that spilled all over my brand new steel-toed shoes, causing me to smell of apple pie and pine branches the rest of the shift.
Oh, I was mortified. It was my first day, and I happened to cause quite a bit of damage. I thought for sure that I would get fired.
Instead I got demoted to store standards. Go figure.
There is a cloud to this silver lining though. Over the year that I did spend on store standards, I got used to using pump trucks, and now I can steer them to the best of them. It really came in handy when I got promoted to the food department where you have to use them every day on the job. Eventually, I overcame that klutziness that I initially suffered from my first few weeks on the job, and now using a pump truck is easy.
In fact, it's rumoured that I am to be trained to use the electric pump truck in the near future at some point. I can't guarantee you all that I'll take out another display of air fresheners, Oreo cookies, or heaven forbid a skid of marble cheese and chocolate milk, but at least I'm not going into it with pure fear.
The walker-stacker...yeah, we won't go there.
It's funny that I brought up pump trucks in the first example because my next example in comparing Vera to myself is on a similar tangent.
Apparently, Vera couldn't drive.
And the comedy of errors surrounding this fact were definitely made evident in the series. I don't have any examples to show you in regards to this unfortunately, but let's just say that there was many instances in which Vera found herself behind the wheel of a car, and then she remembered that she didn't know how to drive.
Can't say I've ever been THAT bad. But it did take me almost 14 years before I had the courage to go and get my learner's permit. I used to have this horrible fear of getting my license because I had a horrible fear of driving off a bridge, or over a cliff, or into a tanker truck filled with gasoline. Yeah, you get the picture.
It wasn't until recently that I realized that I needed to have a license if for no other purpose than to have identfication to show if ever I needed to show it. So, I bit the bullet, took the test, and passed with flying colours.
Remember that one disclaimer at the beginning of this blog entry that said that there was one thing that I was currently working on? The driving this is that. I'm looking into going for driving lessons though, so that would only help. Who knows? Maybe my mastering of the pump truck could assist in that. Who can say really?
Now, here's the third flaw in Vera's character that I also had to overcome.
Vera let people walk all over her sometimes. As did I.
I don't really need to go into detail about myself here...you can just look at any of my previous blog entries for that. Vera on the other hand...oh, there's lots of things that I can talk about.
I think this episode is one that best shows this in action. It's probably one of the only instances where I'll post a full episode, but you kind of have to watch the whole show fully understand.
First off...Calvin is a complete jerk.
Secondly, this is a prime example of how Vera initially let someone walk all over her. He manipulated her into thinking that he was going to hurt himself because she wasn't feeling the relationship, so when he made that threat, she took the sleeping pills that caused an already bad situation to go worse.
Towards the end of this episode, although in a sleep-induced haze, she found a backbone and told Calvin just how she really felt about him, and she managed to take control again, albeit briefly.
It seems kind of awkward to showcase a subject like suicide attempts in a comedic venue, but such as it was back in the 1970s.
Much like Vera, I too used to let people walk all over me, but I am getting better at not letting it happen as often, if not at all.
The one bit of comfort that I can take from Vera is that over the course of the show's nine season run, Vera grew as a character. She became less dependent on others and more independent. She lost her klutziness and gained new inner strength. By the end of the series, she had even found love with a police officer named Elliot and had a child just by being the kind, sweet person she always had been.
Sure, she had her quirks, such as writing numbers in the air to figure out math problems instead of using a calculator or adding machine (something I admittedly do myself at times...another connection, who would have thought it?), but in the end, those quirks just made her all that more interesting of a person.
And if Vera Louise Gorman can find a way to live a relatively happy and normal life as a waitress, there's no reason why I can't.
So, the next time you see a sign on the way of life...don't be afraid to take it. Alice, Flo, and Vera did, and it ended up being a great choice for them. I'm sure that my 'waitress wanted' sign is out there too. Maybe I've already found it and don't know it yet.
Though, I refuse to wear those waitress get-ups. I have hairy legs and look terrible in Pepto-Bismol pink.
I was feeling incredibly sick the last part of the summer vacation. I had a cough that would not go away, and my breathing was heavy, and my head was so clogged up with stuff that I thought it would bust like a balloon that had been pricked with a thumbtack.
So, while most people were swimming in pools, and enjoying cooking outdoors, and riding the Tilt-a-Whirl at carnivals so many times that they threw up cherry sno-cones and cotton candy, I was in bed. Sick.
Turns out that I had pneumonia. I battled it from mid-August to early-September that year. Not my finest experience.
I did try to make the best of a bad situation. I hooked up my outdated in '99 Super NES and played some games, and when I wasn't doing that, I watched television.
Good thing I did too, because had I not, I would have missed out on seeing this show in reruns.
A lot of people my age probably don't remember the television show, 'Alice'. Probably because it aired quite some time before I was born, and ended when I was a toddler. It was based on the 1974 motion picture 'Alice Doesn't Live Here Anymore'. In the movie and the show, Alice Hyatt, a newly-single mother decides that she needs a fresh start, so she and her son decide to pack up and head to California so Alice can get a job as a singer. Fate causes the car to break down in the state of Arizona, where Alice is forced to take a job at Mel's Diner as a waitress in order to get back on her feet.
The job was supposed to be a temporary one for Alice, but considering that the show ran from 1976 to 1985, temporary seemed to last forever in Alice's world.
One of the main reasons behind Alice's decision to stay at Mel's Diner for so long was partly due to the warmth and kindness of all of her co-workers.
There was Florence Jean "Kiss My Grits" Castleberry, who kind of took Alice under her wing and helped her deal with the transition from singer to diner waitress. She also seemed to have a good working relationship with waitresses Jolene and Belle. Even her stodgy, short-tempered boss Mel seemed to have a soft spot for Alice in some occasions.
And then there was the waitress who happens to be the subject of this blog entry.
Vera Louise Gorman was one of the few waitresses who lasted the run of the whole series, and was one of the first people that made Alice feel at home at Mel's Diner. She was a kind woman who rarely ever had a bad word to say about anyone, and she definitely tried her best to be a good person.
Though like all of us, she did have her flaws. Three of them to be exact. Three flaws that I am guilty of having. Two of them, I've managed to overcome...the third I'm trying to work on.
First flaw...Vera was a klutz. And so was I for that matter.
I mean, if you took a peek at the opening credits of the show, there's one scene that appears in every credit sequence. It's the one where Vera tries to open up a box of straws and the whole thing explodes on her. And, then there was that television commercial that she attempted to do in the first part of this clip...
Now, while I can't really claim to have ever appeared on a television commercial, I do know how Vera feels. I used to be incredibly klutzy.
Here's a true story for you.
When I was first hired at my current job, I started off in the back room of the store. I was hired as an unloader, and one of my duties was to take a pump truck and pull skids of merchandising onto the sales floor for the overnight crew to stock.
Which would have been all fine and dandy had I ever used a pump truck before. I was a pump truck virgin, and I wasn't sure exactly if I could handle the pressure of driving a foreign piece of equipment.
I had no choice though. If I didn't pull the pump truck, I wouldn't have a job. So, I grabbed one of the trucks, and pumped up the skid. That part was easy.
Then I pulled it onto the floor, made a really horrible turn onto the sales floor and took out an entire display of Febreze air fresheners.
Holiday scented Febreze air fresheners.
Holiday scented Febreze air fresheners that spilled all over my brand new steel-toed shoes, causing me to smell of apple pie and pine branches the rest of the shift.
Oh, I was mortified. It was my first day, and I happened to cause quite a bit of damage. I thought for sure that I would get fired.
Instead I got demoted to store standards. Go figure.
There is a cloud to this silver lining though. Over the year that I did spend on store standards, I got used to using pump trucks, and now I can steer them to the best of them. It really came in handy when I got promoted to the food department where you have to use them every day on the job. Eventually, I overcame that klutziness that I initially suffered from my first few weeks on the job, and now using a pump truck is easy.
In fact, it's rumoured that I am to be trained to use the electric pump truck in the near future at some point. I can't guarantee you all that I'll take out another display of air fresheners, Oreo cookies, or heaven forbid a skid of marble cheese and chocolate milk, but at least I'm not going into it with pure fear.
The walker-stacker...yeah, we won't go there.
It's funny that I brought up pump trucks in the first example because my next example in comparing Vera to myself is on a similar tangent.
Apparently, Vera couldn't drive.
And the comedy of errors surrounding this fact were definitely made evident in the series. I don't have any examples to show you in regards to this unfortunately, but let's just say that there was many instances in which Vera found herself behind the wheel of a car, and then she remembered that she didn't know how to drive.
Can't say I've ever been THAT bad. But it did take me almost 14 years before I had the courage to go and get my learner's permit. I used to have this horrible fear of getting my license because I had a horrible fear of driving off a bridge, or over a cliff, or into a tanker truck filled with gasoline. Yeah, you get the picture.
It wasn't until recently that I realized that I needed to have a license if for no other purpose than to have identfication to show if ever I needed to show it. So, I bit the bullet, took the test, and passed with flying colours.
Remember that one disclaimer at the beginning of this blog entry that said that there was one thing that I was currently working on? The driving this is that. I'm looking into going for driving lessons though, so that would only help. Who knows? Maybe my mastering of the pump truck could assist in that. Who can say really?
Now, here's the third flaw in Vera's character that I also had to overcome.
Vera let people walk all over her sometimes. As did I.
I don't really need to go into detail about myself here...you can just look at any of my previous blog entries for that. Vera on the other hand...oh, there's lots of things that I can talk about.
I think this episode is one that best shows this in action. It's probably one of the only instances where I'll post a full episode, but you kind of have to watch the whole show fully understand.
First off...Calvin is a complete jerk.
Secondly, this is a prime example of how Vera initially let someone walk all over her. He manipulated her into thinking that he was going to hurt himself because she wasn't feeling the relationship, so when he made that threat, she took the sleeping pills that caused an already bad situation to go worse.
Towards the end of this episode, although in a sleep-induced haze, she found a backbone and told Calvin just how she really felt about him, and she managed to take control again, albeit briefly.
It seems kind of awkward to showcase a subject like suicide attempts in a comedic venue, but such as it was back in the 1970s.
Much like Vera, I too used to let people walk all over me, but I am getting better at not letting it happen as often, if not at all.
The one bit of comfort that I can take from Vera is that over the course of the show's nine season run, Vera grew as a character. She became less dependent on others and more independent. She lost her klutziness and gained new inner strength. By the end of the series, she had even found love with a police officer named Elliot and had a child just by being the kind, sweet person she always had been.
Sure, she had her quirks, such as writing numbers in the air to figure out math problems instead of using a calculator or adding machine (something I admittedly do myself at times...another connection, who would have thought it?), but in the end, those quirks just made her all that more interesting of a person.
And if Vera Louise Gorman can find a way to live a relatively happy and normal life as a waitress, there's no reason why I can't.
So, the next time you see a sign on the way of life...don't be afraid to take it. Alice, Flo, and Vera did, and it ended up being a great choice for them. I'm sure that my 'waitress wanted' sign is out there too. Maybe I've already found it and don't know it yet.
Though, I refuse to wear those waitress get-ups. I have hairy legs and look terrible in Pepto-Bismol pink.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Thursday Night at the Arcade: Maniac Mansion
Once upon a time in 1987, a little company known as Lucasfilm Games released a video game called 'Maniac Mansion'. It proved to be a huge hit, and was released on quite a few different video game consoles. For the sake of argument, I will talk about the Nintendo version, but really, there were hardly any differences between the Nintendo version and the Commodore 64 and Apple II versions.
(Well, okay...some copies of the Nintendo version wouldn't let you microwave Weird Ed's hamster...but that was probably a good thing, because what vile horrible person would microwave a rodent?)
(Wait...WHY are you staring at me? I'm innocent!)
Okay, so the basic plot of the video game is almost similar to one of those B-rated horror/science-fiction films that would often air at 1:37 in the morning. Evil mad scientist kidnaps young cheerleader and decides that he wants to drain her brain for some experiment he is performing.
The cheerleader's name is Sandy, by the way.
As Sandy's boyfriend Dave, it is our job to break into the mansion, save Sandy and live happily ever after at the next high school pep rally.
The trip will not be easy going. For starters, Dr. Fred Edison isn't the main antagonist here. You also have to get past the equally nutty Nurse Edna, who may or may not be Dr. Fred's wife. I'm not exactly sure, as my memory of playing the game left the answer to that question a bit muddled. Dr. Fred somehow ended up with a son, Weird Ed. Let's just say that Ed lived up to his name.
Oh, and then there was Cousin Ted, who lived in the bathtub wrapped up in gauze. He didn't speak much.
Yet, the two octopus tentacles (one in green, the other in purple) could talk. One could even sing! And if you fed him fruity stuff, he'd be the Nicole Richie to your Paris Hilton.
Have I completely lost you yet?
Okay, so if you can get through that contrived plotline, I'll talk about Dave's friends. There's six of them that tag along, and of the six, you can play with two of them along with Dave.
Okay...in order of the friends, there's Dave, Razor, Bernard, Sid, Wendy, Jeff, and Michael.
The reason I want to talk about Dave's friends is because I share good qualities with quite a few of them.
(Well, okay...not Jeff. All Jeff can do is fix the telephone in the library, and well...you don't want me anywhere near a phone hook-up.)
It is true though that I can see myself in most of these characters.
Take, oh, let's say, Michael for instance. While I may not be able to develop film, I do like photography, and Michael definitely was a master at it. Oddly enough, his soundtrack in the game kind of sounded like a retro 80's Michael Jackson song...wonder if there was inspiration there?
Bernard was a total nerd of a character. At first, when playing the game, I rarely used him. He was awkward, I always managed to get him caught by Nurse Edna, and whenever he ran into one of the tentacles, he would run away in fear, leaving me stuck. However, if you could somehow get Bernard to face his fear (or avoid it by letting someone else meet the tentacles instead), Bernard could fix phones, radios, even call intergalactic policemen. I guess in many ways, I could be kind of the physical version of Bernard, right down to the dark hair and glasses. I guess in many ways, I too am fearful of certain things (not tentacles, but other stuff), and I guess in reality, I'm going to have to overcome my fears to get to whatever I am meant to do.
Razor and Sid were interesting characters in the sense that both of them did the same thing. Razor and Sid were musicians, and if you brought them with you, you could get the Green Tentacle on your side by helping him win a recording contract using a cassette tape, a pre-recorded record, and an envelope and stamps (which might I add were some of the most frustrating items to find in the whole game? Seriously, the only way you could get the stamps was by waiting by a mailbox to get a package before Weird Ed did, with a doorbell being your only warning. It was doable, but you really had to plan ahead).
So anyway, Razor and Sid used their creative genius to get through their biggest hurdle, and it ended up being a big success. Though, you have to make sure that the recording contract goes to the Green Tentacle, and not Razor or Sid themselves...because then you die.
Seriously, somehow the Green Tentacle kills you off. Don't ask me why, but it does.
There's another character that uses their skills to get through the game, and it's also a character that I strongly identify with.
Most people when they played Maniac Mansion avoided Wendy the same way people with nut allergies avoided peanut butter. Not I though. Any time I played Maniac Mansion, Wendy was usually always the first kid I chose. Why? Because Wendy loved to write.
As you know by now, I love to write too.
More importantly than that, Wendy loved to edit other people's work. Somewhere in the game, you find a manuscript written by a meteor (I can't believe I even typed this sentence out, but if you've played the game, you'll know that the meteor is the REAL antagonist, and not Dr. Fred). Anyway, apparently space rocks do not have a great grasp of grammar and basic spelling skills (gee, you think?) and you have the option of having Wendy fix up the manuscript for the meteor. If you do, and mail it away, the meteor will get famous and stop terrorizing the mansion. He/She/It'll even release Dr. Fred from the meteor's control, and you can rescue Sandy!
I told you it was a weird game.
But hey, at least Wendy used her skills for something good. That's where Wendy and I are similar. I can't begin to tell you how many homework assignments I've edited for classmates. Or how many words I helped people spell in their journals.
And unfortunately for both Wendy and I, we didn't really get credited for our contribution. The meteor (and my classmates) took all the glory, while we were left in the cold.
(Maybe I should've fed the meteor to the pirahna plant inside the typewriter room instead...)
I did manage to come up with a rather unusual blog entry on one of my favourite video games, and managed to tie it to my own experience somewhat. I'll admit I was kind of struggling for a topic for this entry, but I think I made it work.
I mean, if the game inspired (but never had any similarity to the video game whatsoever) a TV sitcom, it couldn't have been all that bad.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Across the Pond and Beyond: Little Mo Mitchell from EastEnders
WORD OF WARNING: This blog entry is going to contain some video clips that may not be suitable for young ones to view. They can be quite graphic and disturbing to watch. You have been warned.
You see, part of the reason why I've grown to love international television so much is because they have more of a tendency to tackle controversial subject matter. Whereas most American television shows shy away from controversy, shows from Britain, Australia, and even Canada have been more daring with the topics they cover on their programming.
Homosexuality. HIV and AIDS. Euthanasia. These are controversial topics that have been broadcast on various programs across the pond. And many of these plots have been written in such a way that really inspires emotional reaction. Emotional reactions so strong that your heart breaks for the poor characters that have to go through that.
There's one show that I've discovered that had tackled all three of the subjects that I discussed above and more. I suppose you'd like to know what show it is, don't you?
EastEnders. Shocking people to the core since February 19, 1985.
EastEnders has garnered a bit of a reputation in its twenty-six year history. As I said up above, they tackle a lot of controversial subject matter. They diagnosed a character with HIV, and he was subjected to a hate-filled campaign by the owner of the local pub, claiming he was 'diseased'. Very controversial, but at the same time it educated people that HIV was nothing to be afraid of.
They showed a longtime character agree to help her long suffering friend die. At the time, euthanasia was a really touchy subject to tackle, but I thought the show handled it well.
And although we're years behind the UK schedule here in Canada, I hear that there's a very popular couple who happens to be the same sex, so it's nice to see that some international shows aren't afraid to showcase a gay relationship, even if it is still considered taboo here in North America.
I think I started watching EastEnders on PBS about six years ago. So, that would be back around 2005. The catch is that PBS is about seven years behind UK pace, so when I was watching in 2005, the episodes were actually from 1998. I think the ones that are currently airing are from Christmas 2003...so we're way behind. Oddly enough, there's another station that also airs EastEnders from 2008 and onwards.
So, before I go on with this note, I should mention that I have only seen EastEnders up until December 2008 episodes, and have not seen any episode that aired between 2004 and 2007. This will make my character spotlight seem a little bit skewered, as she happened to leave the show in the period that I have never seen yet. But, it's just as well...her character was very big the first couple of years she was on the show anyway.
But, enough babbling. I'll introduce you to her right now.
Say hello to Maureen Slater-Mitchell. Though, on the show, she was (affectionately?) referred to as 'Little Mo'. You see, she was named after her maternal grandmother, who was also named Maureen, but went by the name 'Mo'. So, that's how she came to be called Little Mo.
Two words can describe Little Mo. Tragic heroine.
On the surface, it seemed like Little Mo had it all. A home. A husband. A family who loved her.
Underneath that facade were many, many, skeletons. Skeletons that caused Little Mo lots of stress and pain.
You see the above family portrait? Well, it's Little Mo and her 'sisters'. There's Little Mo in the pink. Next to her is Kat. Zoe happens to be right next to Kat, and at the end is eldest sister, Lynne.
But why is the word 'sister' in quotation marks? Well...there was a little twist to this family tree. It's like that Sesame Street song.
Yes...one of the Slater sisters was more like a Slater...daughter. Apparently Kat got pregnant when she was thirteen and gave birth to Zoe. The whole thing was a disaster when the secret was revealled, and it's such a huge story in itself that I'd need a separate blog entry for it. The point is that Zoe had absolutely no idea that Kat was her mother...and neither did Little Mo. If I remember correctly, Little Mo was absolutely hurt and furious that everyone in the family had kept it a secret from her, and she felt as if nobody took her seriously.
Of course, she didn't realize that at the time of Zoe's birth, Little Mo was only seven, and couldn't possibly understand what was happening. It didn't matter though...she felt very hurt that her family didn't tell her.
I can relate to Little Mo in this case, because as the youngest child in my family, I sometimes felt as though I was left out of family discussions because of my age, and it really bothered me at the time. There were instances in which I felt like maybe I wasn't a part of the family because everyone else in my immediate family was so much older than I was, and didn't know how I could make my voice heard. It was a frustrating period in my life, but nothing I couldn't handle.
Eventually, Little Mo got over it too, which was a good thing. For, her biggest challenge was yet to come.
As mentioned before, EastEnders is a show that tackles a lot of controversial subject matter. And Little Mo probably had one of the more controversial storylines that ever took place on the show.
Little Mo was a victim of domestic violence.
It was odd at first because when Little Mo debuted with the rest of the Slater family in September 2000, she couldn't stop gushing over how much she loved her husband Trevor. You could tell in her eyes that she had nothing but love for this man, even though we never saw him on screen.
But then Christmas came, and Little Mo's eyes revealled a different feeling. Fear.
This was just the beginning of a nearly two year long storyline. (And, people thought American soap operas dragged on and on)
This storyline had all sorts of twists and turns to it. Little Mo tried to leave Trevor, but Trevor came back and begged her to take him back. Then she would go back to him, he'd hit her again, and she'd leave. It was a very vicious cycle. A cycle that Little Mo desperately wanted to break, but Trevor kept breaking her down over and over again.
It wasn't until she met Billy Mitchell that things started to go for the better for her. She and Billy became firm friends, and soon Billy found himself falling for Little Mo. Little Mo really started to like Billy too, but her fear of Trevor really prevented her from leaving him.
As fate had it, Billy had discovered that Trevor was cheating on Little Mo with another woman and had gotten her pregnant. Little Mo refused to believe Billy at first, but she soon found that Billy was telling the truth. And with Billy and the rest of her family behind her, Little Mo started to find her backbone.
I tell you, I was cheering right along with Little Mo when she did that. In that split second, she told Trevor that she wasn't going to take him using her anymore.
Unfortunately it didn't last. Shortly after that, the news about Zoe and Kat came out, and as a result of it, Zoe ran away from home. Zoe had managed to get in contact with Little Mo when she found herself in a sticky situation, but devious Trevor deleted the message, and Kat and the rest of the Slaters turned against her as a result of it. But Little Mo was conflicted. She really wanted Zoe to come home, and actually went to visit Zoe begging her to return, but at the same time, she knew that Trevor didn't like it. In actuality, Kat and Zoe's secret was revealled BY Trevor as an attempt to blackmail Little Mo into coming back to him.
That's how sick Trevor was.
Things got worse as Christmas approached. Not so much for Kat and Zoe. They ended up reuniting with each other, and Little Mo had decided to pop over to the Slater house to celebrate Zoe's homecoming and Christmas at the same time. As it happened, Little Mo lost track of time and forgot that she had promised to be with Trevor for Christmas dinner.
The below scene you're about to see is incredibly disturbing to watch, but in order to say what I want to say about this blog entry, it's one that I feel that I have to show, or else you won't know exactly what Little Mo was up against.
Christmas 2001 wasn't a very happy one for Little Mo. She was abused by Trevor to the point where at one point he actually raped her. To make matters worse, Zoe developed a case of pneumonia from being on the run, and Kat squarely blamed Little Mo because had it not been for Trevor erasing the message, they could have found her before she got sick.
Little Mo was really starting to lose it. She was at the point where she was so sick and tired of taking abuse from all sides. She just wanted to put an end to it. On New Years Eve, Little Mo and Trevor got into yet another argument, and Trevor was getting ready to attack Little Mo physically once again. This time, Little Mo fought back.
She grabbed a nearby iron from the kitchen and smashed Trevor's head with it a couple of times, knocking him out cold. Upon first glance, Little Mo believed that she had killed Trevor, and she immediately tried to look for her family to help dispose of Trevor's body. When they got back to the house, they found that Trevor was nowhere to be seen.
Trevor meanwhile had survived, but decided to turn Little Mo into the police, and she was arrested. Despite testimony from the Slater family, Billy, and even Trevor's mistress (whom he also abused), Little Mo was found guilty, and was given a sentence of eight years for attempted murder.
Told you she was a tragic heroine.
While Little Mo was sent to prison, Trevor decided to take out his anger on his mistress, and on one such occasion, the mistress ended up in the hospital. By then, the mistress had given birth to Trevor's child, and Kat and the rest of the Slaters decided to take care of the baby while she recovered. When Trevor barged into the Slater home to get his son back, Kat ended up getting in the way, and Trevor attacked her before getting arrested by the police. Kat made a deal with Trevor though. Trevor could avoid jail time if he retracted the abuse charge that got Little Mo sent to prison.
When Little Mo was released, she was emotionally scarred, but through the support of her family as well as a budding relationship with Billy on the horizon, things were finally going Little Mo's way.
The climax of this storyline happened on Halloween night in 2002, when Trevor kidnapped his son and Little Mo and held both of them hostage. Trevor was determined to make Little Mo pay for everything she had done. His plan was to throw gasoline all over the Slater house and then light the place on fire, killing everyone inside the house. What Trevor didn't count on was Little Mo's prison stay making her a lot less fearful of him. I couldn't help but include this scene, because this truly was Little Mo's finest hour.
Well okay...except for the part where the house actually went up in flames, Little Mo really did a lot of people proud. She stood up for herself and let Trevor know that he couldn't hurt her anymore. She was done being abused by him, and it was time for her to live the rest of her life the way SHE wanted with people who DID love her.
Little Mo survived the fire, as did Trevor's son. Trevor...not so much. Would you believe that when he died, Little Mo actually wanted to plan a funeral for him? Eventually people convinced her that the person she should be mourning was the fireman who died trying to save her, instead of the husband who did nothing but hurt her, and she ended up marrying Billy two months later.
Of course, as I later researched online, the wedding of Little Mo and Billy wasn't one that lasted, and Little Mo herself left the show in 2006. I haven't seen these episodes yet, so please don't spoil too too much.
The main question one has to ask is...why did it take two years for Little Mo to decide that she wanted to be free of an abusive son of a bitch like Trevor?
Because Little Mo was bullied for so long, in some of the cruelest ways possible. It's only natural for someone like Little Mo to have such low self-esteem about herself when one is bullied and humiliated every day.
While I thank my lucky stars that my experiences were not nearly as traumatic or devastating as what poor Little Mo had to endure...I know exactly how she felt. I was humiliated and bullied by quite a few people. They called me names, beat me up, made me feel so ashamed of myself. I literally lost about a decade of my life because of what some of those people put me through because I was so ashamed to show myself on the street. I didn't even really like talking about what I went through at the time because I thought that if I told anyone that the bullying would get worse.
The thing that Little Mo and I realized a little late in life is that nobody is worth getting abused on a day to day basis. All Little Mo really wanted was to have a husband who loved her and honoured her. Instead she ended up with an insecure coward who thought that by beating her, she would stay with him. Eventually, Little Mo realized through her romance with Billy and the support of her family that she was far better off being alone than being stuck in a relationship where she was constantly getting her heart broken.
I would try almost anything to be friends with people in grade school. I even went as far as letting the so called 'cool kids' bully me and tease me just so I could be acknowledged by someone. I was pretty insecure about myself to begin with, and having constant name calling and abuse directed towards me did nothing to erase that insecurity. It did the opposite actually.
The more I tried to be nice to some of those kids, the meaner they treated me. I'd offer to share my cookies with them at recess, and they repayed me by washing my face out with snow during a chilly January recess. But when you're a kid, you just want so desperately to be accepted by people that you just sit back and take it, hoping that they'll grow out of it, or that they'll see that you're strong and then they'll like you.
It took me almost eighteen years to have my Little Mo moment. It wasn't until a couple of years ago that I realized that I had wasted so much time on those pathetic losers because I let them get to me. It hasn't always been easy to forget what they did...some of the stuff they did should really have been considered criminal behaviour as far as I'm concerned. I am getting better at handling it. I'm now starting to realize that I'm not as pathetic as they lead me to believe for so many years. In actuality, I think I might have come out of this better than they could ever have hoped to be. Because while I might not have as much money as they do, or live in as nice a place as they do...my experiences with them have made me realize that I shouldn't settle for anyone. I should search for the best people for me to be around, because I deserve the very best.
YOU HEAR THAT, PEOPLE? I DESERVE THE VERY BEST!
Everyone deserves the best things in life for them.
Even Little Mo Mitchell.
You see, part of the reason why I've grown to love international television so much is because they have more of a tendency to tackle controversial subject matter. Whereas most American television shows shy away from controversy, shows from Britain, Australia, and even Canada have been more daring with the topics they cover on their programming.
Homosexuality. HIV and AIDS. Euthanasia. These are controversial topics that have been broadcast on various programs across the pond. And many of these plots have been written in such a way that really inspires emotional reaction. Emotional reactions so strong that your heart breaks for the poor characters that have to go through that.
There's one show that I've discovered that had tackled all three of the subjects that I discussed above and more. I suppose you'd like to know what show it is, don't you?
EastEnders. Shocking people to the core since February 19, 1985.
EastEnders has garnered a bit of a reputation in its twenty-six year history. As I said up above, they tackle a lot of controversial subject matter. They diagnosed a character with HIV, and he was subjected to a hate-filled campaign by the owner of the local pub, claiming he was 'diseased'. Very controversial, but at the same time it educated people that HIV was nothing to be afraid of.
They showed a longtime character agree to help her long suffering friend die. At the time, euthanasia was a really touchy subject to tackle, but I thought the show handled it well.
And although we're years behind the UK schedule here in Canada, I hear that there's a very popular couple who happens to be the same sex, so it's nice to see that some international shows aren't afraid to showcase a gay relationship, even if it is still considered taboo here in North America.
I think I started watching EastEnders on PBS about six years ago. So, that would be back around 2005. The catch is that PBS is about seven years behind UK pace, so when I was watching in 2005, the episodes were actually from 1998. I think the ones that are currently airing are from Christmas 2003...so we're way behind. Oddly enough, there's another station that also airs EastEnders from 2008 and onwards.
So, before I go on with this note, I should mention that I have only seen EastEnders up until December 2008 episodes, and have not seen any episode that aired between 2004 and 2007. This will make my character spotlight seem a little bit skewered, as she happened to leave the show in the period that I have never seen yet. But, it's just as well...her character was very big the first couple of years she was on the show anyway.
But, enough babbling. I'll introduce you to her right now.
Say hello to Maureen Slater-Mitchell. Though, on the show, she was (affectionately?) referred to as 'Little Mo'. You see, she was named after her maternal grandmother, who was also named Maureen, but went by the name 'Mo'. So, that's how she came to be called Little Mo.
Two words can describe Little Mo. Tragic heroine.
On the surface, it seemed like Little Mo had it all. A home. A husband. A family who loved her.
Underneath that facade were many, many, skeletons. Skeletons that caused Little Mo lots of stress and pain.
You see the above family portrait? Well, it's Little Mo and her 'sisters'. There's Little Mo in the pink. Next to her is Kat. Zoe happens to be right next to Kat, and at the end is eldest sister, Lynne.
But why is the word 'sister' in quotation marks? Well...there was a little twist to this family tree. It's like that Sesame Street song.
Yes...one of the Slater sisters was more like a Slater...daughter. Apparently Kat got pregnant when she was thirteen and gave birth to Zoe. The whole thing was a disaster when the secret was revealled, and it's such a huge story in itself that I'd need a separate blog entry for it. The point is that Zoe had absolutely no idea that Kat was her mother...and neither did Little Mo. If I remember correctly, Little Mo was absolutely hurt and furious that everyone in the family had kept it a secret from her, and she felt as if nobody took her seriously.
Of course, she didn't realize that at the time of Zoe's birth, Little Mo was only seven, and couldn't possibly understand what was happening. It didn't matter though...she felt very hurt that her family didn't tell her.
I can relate to Little Mo in this case, because as the youngest child in my family, I sometimes felt as though I was left out of family discussions because of my age, and it really bothered me at the time. There were instances in which I felt like maybe I wasn't a part of the family because everyone else in my immediate family was so much older than I was, and didn't know how I could make my voice heard. It was a frustrating period in my life, but nothing I couldn't handle.
Eventually, Little Mo got over it too, which was a good thing. For, her biggest challenge was yet to come.
As mentioned before, EastEnders is a show that tackles a lot of controversial subject matter. And Little Mo probably had one of the more controversial storylines that ever took place on the show.
Little Mo was a victim of domestic violence.
It was odd at first because when Little Mo debuted with the rest of the Slater family in September 2000, she couldn't stop gushing over how much she loved her husband Trevor. You could tell in her eyes that she had nothing but love for this man, even though we never saw him on screen.
But then Christmas came, and Little Mo's eyes revealled a different feeling. Fear.
This was just the beginning of a nearly two year long storyline. (And, people thought American soap operas dragged on and on)
This storyline had all sorts of twists and turns to it. Little Mo tried to leave Trevor, but Trevor came back and begged her to take him back. Then she would go back to him, he'd hit her again, and she'd leave. It was a very vicious cycle. A cycle that Little Mo desperately wanted to break, but Trevor kept breaking her down over and over again.
It wasn't until she met Billy Mitchell that things started to go for the better for her. She and Billy became firm friends, and soon Billy found himself falling for Little Mo. Little Mo really started to like Billy too, but her fear of Trevor really prevented her from leaving him.
As fate had it, Billy had discovered that Trevor was cheating on Little Mo with another woman and had gotten her pregnant. Little Mo refused to believe Billy at first, but she soon found that Billy was telling the truth. And with Billy and the rest of her family behind her, Little Mo started to find her backbone.
I tell you, I was cheering right along with Little Mo when she did that. In that split second, she told Trevor that she wasn't going to take him using her anymore.
Unfortunately it didn't last. Shortly after that, the news about Zoe and Kat came out, and as a result of it, Zoe ran away from home. Zoe had managed to get in contact with Little Mo when she found herself in a sticky situation, but devious Trevor deleted the message, and Kat and the rest of the Slaters turned against her as a result of it. But Little Mo was conflicted. She really wanted Zoe to come home, and actually went to visit Zoe begging her to return, but at the same time, she knew that Trevor didn't like it. In actuality, Kat and Zoe's secret was revealled BY Trevor as an attempt to blackmail Little Mo into coming back to him.
That's how sick Trevor was.
Things got worse as Christmas approached. Not so much for Kat and Zoe. They ended up reuniting with each other, and Little Mo had decided to pop over to the Slater house to celebrate Zoe's homecoming and Christmas at the same time. As it happened, Little Mo lost track of time and forgot that she had promised to be with Trevor for Christmas dinner.
The below scene you're about to see is incredibly disturbing to watch, but in order to say what I want to say about this blog entry, it's one that I feel that I have to show, or else you won't know exactly what Little Mo was up against.
Christmas 2001 wasn't a very happy one for Little Mo. She was abused by Trevor to the point where at one point he actually raped her. To make matters worse, Zoe developed a case of pneumonia from being on the run, and Kat squarely blamed Little Mo because had it not been for Trevor erasing the message, they could have found her before she got sick.
Little Mo was really starting to lose it. She was at the point where she was so sick and tired of taking abuse from all sides. She just wanted to put an end to it. On New Years Eve, Little Mo and Trevor got into yet another argument, and Trevor was getting ready to attack Little Mo physically once again. This time, Little Mo fought back.
She grabbed a nearby iron from the kitchen and smashed Trevor's head with it a couple of times, knocking him out cold. Upon first glance, Little Mo believed that she had killed Trevor, and she immediately tried to look for her family to help dispose of Trevor's body. When they got back to the house, they found that Trevor was nowhere to be seen.
Trevor meanwhile had survived, but decided to turn Little Mo into the police, and she was arrested. Despite testimony from the Slater family, Billy, and even Trevor's mistress (whom he also abused), Little Mo was found guilty, and was given a sentence of eight years for attempted murder.
Told you she was a tragic heroine.
While Little Mo was sent to prison, Trevor decided to take out his anger on his mistress, and on one such occasion, the mistress ended up in the hospital. By then, the mistress had given birth to Trevor's child, and Kat and the rest of the Slaters decided to take care of the baby while she recovered. When Trevor barged into the Slater home to get his son back, Kat ended up getting in the way, and Trevor attacked her before getting arrested by the police. Kat made a deal with Trevor though. Trevor could avoid jail time if he retracted the abuse charge that got Little Mo sent to prison.
When Little Mo was released, she was emotionally scarred, but through the support of her family as well as a budding relationship with Billy on the horizon, things were finally going Little Mo's way.
The climax of this storyline happened on Halloween night in 2002, when Trevor kidnapped his son and Little Mo and held both of them hostage. Trevor was determined to make Little Mo pay for everything she had done. His plan was to throw gasoline all over the Slater house and then light the place on fire, killing everyone inside the house. What Trevor didn't count on was Little Mo's prison stay making her a lot less fearful of him. I couldn't help but include this scene, because this truly was Little Mo's finest hour.
Well okay...except for the part where the house actually went up in flames, Little Mo really did a lot of people proud. She stood up for herself and let Trevor know that he couldn't hurt her anymore. She was done being abused by him, and it was time for her to live the rest of her life the way SHE wanted with people who DID love her.
Little Mo survived the fire, as did Trevor's son. Trevor...not so much. Would you believe that when he died, Little Mo actually wanted to plan a funeral for him? Eventually people convinced her that the person she should be mourning was the fireman who died trying to save her, instead of the husband who did nothing but hurt her, and she ended up marrying Billy two months later.
Of course, as I later researched online, the wedding of Little Mo and Billy wasn't one that lasted, and Little Mo herself left the show in 2006. I haven't seen these episodes yet, so please don't spoil too too much.
The main question one has to ask is...why did it take two years for Little Mo to decide that she wanted to be free of an abusive son of a bitch like Trevor?
Because Little Mo was bullied for so long, in some of the cruelest ways possible. It's only natural for someone like Little Mo to have such low self-esteem about herself when one is bullied and humiliated every day.
While I thank my lucky stars that my experiences were not nearly as traumatic or devastating as what poor Little Mo had to endure...I know exactly how she felt. I was humiliated and bullied by quite a few people. They called me names, beat me up, made me feel so ashamed of myself. I literally lost about a decade of my life because of what some of those people put me through because I was so ashamed to show myself on the street. I didn't even really like talking about what I went through at the time because I thought that if I told anyone that the bullying would get worse.
The thing that Little Mo and I realized a little late in life is that nobody is worth getting abused on a day to day basis. All Little Mo really wanted was to have a husband who loved her and honoured her. Instead she ended up with an insecure coward who thought that by beating her, she would stay with him. Eventually, Little Mo realized through her romance with Billy and the support of her family that she was far better off being alone than being stuck in a relationship where she was constantly getting her heart broken.
I would try almost anything to be friends with people in grade school. I even went as far as letting the so called 'cool kids' bully me and tease me just so I could be acknowledged by someone. I was pretty insecure about myself to begin with, and having constant name calling and abuse directed towards me did nothing to erase that insecurity. It did the opposite actually.
The more I tried to be nice to some of those kids, the meaner they treated me. I'd offer to share my cookies with them at recess, and they repayed me by washing my face out with snow during a chilly January recess. But when you're a kid, you just want so desperately to be accepted by people that you just sit back and take it, hoping that they'll grow out of it, or that they'll see that you're strong and then they'll like you.
It took me almost eighteen years to have my Little Mo moment. It wasn't until a couple of years ago that I realized that I had wasted so much time on those pathetic losers because I let them get to me. It hasn't always been easy to forget what they did...some of the stuff they did should really have been considered criminal behaviour as far as I'm concerned. I am getting better at handling it. I'm now starting to realize that I'm not as pathetic as they lead me to believe for so many years. In actuality, I think I might have come out of this better than they could ever have hoped to be. Because while I might not have as much money as they do, or live in as nice a place as they do...my experiences with them have made me realize that I shouldn't settle for anyone. I should search for the best people for me to be around, because I deserve the very best.
YOU HEAR THAT, PEOPLE? I DESERVE THE VERY BEST!
Everyone deserves the best things in life for them.
Even Little Mo Mitchell.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
What Marble Cheese and Chocolate Milk Taught Me About Myself

This could be one of the weirdest entries that I may end up writing.
I mean, yes, the Tuesday theme for this blog is leftovers. Pot Pourri. Miscellaneous stuff that doesn't quite fit in anywhere else. However, I bet you weren't thinking that I would use actual food for a subject.
Fear not, cats and kittens. There is a method to my madness, and I plan on introducing a couple of pop culture references along the way. Won't that be fun?
So before I kick off this entry about what cheese and cocoa-flavoured milk beverages have taught me about myself, I think we need a little flashback action going on here.
Does anyone remember the old game show 'Supermarket Sweep'? No? To refresh your memory a bit, I've taken the liberty of posting a couple of clips from both the American version (which I've never seen), and the Canadian version (which I remember watching on days when I was home sick).
Okay...first the American version, hosted by David Ruprecht...
...and the Canadian version, hosted by Tino Monte...
(and, just on a related note to the second video, was that not one of the most epic endings you have ever seen on a game show clip? I just hope the lady in the purple has great dental coverage.)
As you may have guessed, the show is all about shopping in the supermarket. The way the game worked was that the first two rounds involved answering questions about food products, or having to go into the supermarket set to retrieve a certain product. Each time a team got a correct answer, they would earn ten seconds on their own clock. The time would then be tallied up, and that would be their total time for the next round, which was probably the most popular round in the whole game.
As you can guess, both clips above showed the round I'm trying to talk about. The goal of the third round was to have earned as much time on the clock as possible, because the more time you had, the more time you had to throw things into your shopping cart. And the more that a team had in their cart, the higher their totals got. If your total was the highest, you got a chance to play in the bonus round for even more cash and prizes.
So naturally, you'd have contestants doing everything possible to try and win the chance for cash and prizes. During the shopping cart round, you had contestants throwing everything possible into their carts, narrowly crashing into each other in the process. It was like all the rules that applied to grocery shopping went out the window, and we saw fairly normal people devolve into savage behaviour in order to get something that they really wanted to get.
Kind of like the dreaded Cabbage Patch Kid epidemic of 1983 where people were trampled and stomped on just to get their hands on one of these (precious?) dolls up above.
You kind of have to wonder what makes people turn from one emotion to another...don't you?
I mean, surely, on the game show 'Supermarket Sweep', the people had an excuse to resort to such incredulous and bewildering behaviour to get what they want...they wanted to be the last team standing at a chance to win even more.
But what happens when you find yourself in the middle of your own episode of 'Supermarket Sweep'? One that happens to be like the show only without the television cameras, manager's specials, or a game show host with a smile so white, you'd swear that Clorox bleach paid his salary.
I work in the supermarket section of a store. I love my job most days. There are some days where I wish I had stayed in bed with my head under the covers, but everyone has days like that.
The only thing I don't like having to deal with are people who basically act a lot like some of those past contestants.
I would say that on any given day, whenever I provide customer service to someone, a whopping ninety per cent are kind, friendly, and seem genuinely appreciative of any service you give them.
There are those ten per cent that are anything but.
You know how it is...say you have an item that you run out of, and you try everything you can to get the item back in stock. Most of the time, the customer is understanding. Sometimes though, they end up like this.
They can get angry. They can get boisterous. And, yes, they can even point their fingers right at you.
Or even worse. I won't go into too much detail here, only that I have had to dodge flying objects in a couple of instances.
So, what does this have to do with the original posting about chocolate milk and marble cheese?
They just happen to be the two items that appear to be on sale in our store more often than any other dairy product. More often than not, we'll have blowout deals on the items that are so good that people will flock to the store to stock up on as much of it as they can...kind of like the shoppers on 'Supermarket Sweep'.
That's fine and dandy for the first few days...but woe is us if we ever run out of stock, for then we have to face the wrath I call the angry mob.
The ones who pitch a fit because they can't get the item that is on sale. The ones who pitch a fit because they can't get a substitute. The ones who leave behind a heaping cartload of stuff and curse and swear at anyone who will listen because they cannot get a carton of chocolate milk or a portion of marble cheese.
Some of them get really nasty. They take out their anger on everyone around them, especially those who they happen to be dealing with. As bad as I feel that they can't get what they like, I don't think that it's entirely fair to be dealing with such irrational anger from someone.
Being disappointed about not getting an item, or even mild frustration over it is something that I can deal with. In some cases, I'll even sympathize. But when someone throws a five-year-old style temper tantrum, that's not all right with me.
I guess the point I'm trying to make is that I've learned something about myself just from the two food items I've mentioned in this blog, as well as the people who can't purchase them for whatever reason.
I've learned that no item is worth making yourself look bad over. I don't understand how dairy products can provoke such rage in people.
But, then, I try to see it like this sometimes. Quite possibly they were having a bad day at work, or home, or what have you, and when they went shopping and couldn't buy everything they needed, they lost control of their emotions. It happens to the best of us...even myself at times.
Or, perhaps they really needed to get marble cheese for a wedding feast or birthday party or bar mitzvah or some other event and they waited until the last minute.
Or, it's entirely possible that that the people are complete jerks who have absolutely no grasp of how to act impeccably in a social situation and therefore end up humiliating themselves in the meantime.
Honestly, I've dealt with all three. And all three can be handled in exactly the same way.
Service with a smile.
It may have taken me some time to try and figure this out, but I think I'm getting better at handling conflict resolutions with customers. As long as I keep my composure and not lose my cool, and maybe flash my pearly-whites, I can handle any situation with ease.
At best, the customer calms down and is understanding about things. At worse, the smile makes the customer angrier. But whatever the case is, I no longer let people who are upset over a lack of dairy in their diet bug me anymore.
Because if I did...well...I really wouldn't be much different from them now, would I?
Now, if you excuse me, I'm gonna kick back and relax with a nice glass of chocolate moo juice and a grilled cheese sandwich, to think about all the types of people I will meet tomorrow.
90% of them can't be bad. I know from experience.
The other 10%? I'll be ready for them.
:)
Monday, June 13, 2011
Monday Matinee: The Waterboy
I bet you never expected to see an Adam Sandler movie being featured in this blog entry, did you?
Truth be told, neither did I.
The thing is...there's a lot that I have in common with one particular movie in general. In order to proceed, I'm going to do things a little differently here.
Picture it. Elementary school. 1988. (And try to ignore the fact that I just had a Golden Girls moment here)
There was a young boy who once hated gym class so much. I mean, he really, really, hated it. If he could have, he would have gladly never taken another gym class again.
You see...this may come as a shock to some of you, but I was never a great athlete in school sports, or any kind of sport for that matter.
(Which explains why this blog celebrates pop culture and not touchdowns)
The point is that growing up in a school district that seemed to put as much if not more emphasis on sports programs as they did with academics was rocky for me. It almost seemed like if one wasn't athletically gifted, people didn't seem to want anything to do with you.
It started off around 1988, as I said earlier. I tried my hardest in gym class. I bounced those basketballs as hard as I could. I ran as fast as I could. I rode those little wooden scooter things to my heart's desire. The end result? The only C on my report card.
At least the effort was there.
Unfortunately, effort didn't really matter very much at school. At my school, I think the majority of my teachers graded solely on athletic abilities instead of effort, and I felt that was the wrong thing for teachers to do. I mean, yes, it would have been nice to have had athletic skill, but shouldn't the fact that I shed more sweat and tired myself out trying to compete with the other kids mean anything?
In elementary school, it wasn't as bad. Sure, I had to deal with kids teasing me over my athletic ability, or lack thereof, but I could handle it. Some days were more fun than others, so I just tried to focus on that.
High school was even worse though. Ninth grade was okay, but when I got into tenth grade, it was horrible. It almost felt like I was the ninety-eight pound weakling, even though in reality, I was about 170 pounds heavier and could probably throw a concrete brick through a window.
(DISCLAIMER: I have not, nor ever, thrown a concrete brick through any window, though I've admittedly been tempted.)
I'm sure that I would have had a better time in gym class if one teacher in particular didn't outrightly tell my parents during the parent-teacher interview that my grade in the class would remain fixed at the same grade no matter how hard I tried, or how much perspiration was shed.
Certainly didn't make me feel any better about myself, that's for sure.
I never did take gym class again, and I really didn't care if I ever got any exercise ever again. I mean, no matter what, I had people telling me that I was mediocre and that I would never improve, so why bother?
This probably would be a great time to bring up the subject for the Monday Matinee.
One might think that the choosing of the 1998 film 'The Waterboy' is somewhat of an unusual choice. For me though, it makes perfect sense to talk about this movie.
I mean, listen to the description of Adam Sandler's character, as quoted on 'the usually unreliable, but since I've seen the movie, I know it to be gospel' Wikipedia.
Bobby Boucher is a socially inept, stuttering water boy with hidden anger issues due to constant teasing and his mother's (Kathy Bates) excessive sheltering. He became the water boy for the University of Louisiana Cougars[2] after being told his father died of dehydration in the desert while serving in the Peace Corps. However, the players always torment and the team's head coach, Red Beaulieu (Jerry Reed), eventually fires him for "disrupting" his practices. Bobby then approaches Coach Klein (Henry Winkler) of the South Central Louisiana State University Mud Dogs and asks to work as the team's waterboy. Coach Klein has been coach of SCLSU for years without success, after his brilliant playbook was stolen by Red Beaulieu.
The blue hyperlinks are an added bonus, courtesy of the copy and paste feature.
You know something, let's just come out with it right now. Aside from the stuttering part, and that my social ineptness could never be as bad as Bobby Boucher's, I'm almost like a carbon copy of Bobby.
Think about it. It makes perfect sense. Bobby was picked on by everyone around him. So was I. Bobby's social skills were not really all that developed. My social skills aren't quite as bad, but I didn't really have much game. I'll come out and say it.
Bobby had an incredibly sheltered life due to an overprotective mother. While I can thankfully say that my mother was NEVER as bad as Bobby's, there was some protectiveness there that I really didn't need. Though Kathy Bates was awesome in the movie, I must admit.
Even the part about the head coach getting on Boucher's case resonates true with me. For the coach was basically every bad gym teacher that I ever had combined into one arrogant, prickly pear of a man.
I just felt so bad for the guy. No wonder he had anger issues. When I was in high school, I admit that I had anger issues myself. We both ended up getting a raw deal in the world of sports just based on things that we felt we had no control over.
In the movie, it wasn't until Bobby got on a different team as the waterboy that his fortune began to change. When his new team began to harass him and make fun of him, the new coach urged Bobby to fight back against them. That advice awoke something inside Bobby, and what he did was tackle the quarterback with such force that the QB got K.O.'ed.
This instance really helped Bobby grow as a person. He went back to school, and went behind his mother's back to join the college football team as a linebacker. With Bobby's help, the team, whose previous success was inadequate at best, was on their way to the top. Bobby even managed to attract the romantic affections of his childhood friend, Vicki as a result of it...something that would have never crossed his mind before.
You see...without spoiling the ending of the movie, that's what the lesson I've learned is all about. In Bobby Boucher's case, he had almost every possible thing working against him. Yet, because of some support from a caring coach, it really changed his attitude towards everything. He started to like himself. He started to break out of his sheltered upbringing. He started to explore things that he never thought possible.
He found all that with encouragement from someone who supported him instead of bringing him down.
As for me? Well, I found that too. After years of avoiding it, back in 2009, I had heard about a charity walk that my workplace was a part of for quite a while. It was something known as the 'Walk for Miracles'. You basically headed to the site of the nearest children's hospital all across Canada and participated in a five kilometre (or for you non-metric types, about three miles) walk. You raised money for the children's hospital of your choice, and all the money went towards the purchase of new equipment for the hospitals as well as funding research for new treatments.
Back in 2009, I didn't think I would be able to do the walk. I got winded walking down the street, let along walking five whole kilometres. When 2009 began, I was very heavy, and I was so out of shape. After seeing a photograph that was taken of me at the 2008 Christmas party and seeing how horrible I looked, I knew that I needed to make a change.
So, with the help of some very caring co-workers, I made the choice to try and get in shape for a better lifestyle. I ate better, exercised more, and really stayed focused on the goal. As a result, by the time the Walk for Miracles came around, I had lost a significant amount of weight, and felt confident enough to do the whole walk.
Sure, when I got to the walk site, there was a 1km walk option, but by doing the 5km walk, I would be challenging myself...stepping out of that comfort zone to better myself.
I not only did that walk, but I finished at the front of the pack!
Take THAT, you fixed mark making gym teacher.
In fact, I've managed to do the same walk for three years in a row. It's a great cause, and I love raising money for a hospital that has saved thousands of lives because of the work we've done for them.
And, maybe...just like Bobby did...maybe that's what I needed to feel better about myself. To do something out of my comfort zone so that I could help others along the way.
A purpose for a purpose.
Truth be told, neither did I.
The thing is...there's a lot that I have in common with one particular movie in general. In order to proceed, I'm going to do things a little differently here.
Picture it. Elementary school. 1988. (And try to ignore the fact that I just had a Golden Girls moment here)
There was a young boy who once hated gym class so much. I mean, he really, really, hated it. If he could have, he would have gladly never taken another gym class again.
You see...this may come as a shock to some of you, but I was never a great athlete in school sports, or any kind of sport for that matter.
(Which explains why this blog celebrates pop culture and not touchdowns)
The point is that growing up in a school district that seemed to put as much if not more emphasis on sports programs as they did with academics was rocky for me. It almost seemed like if one wasn't athletically gifted, people didn't seem to want anything to do with you.
It started off around 1988, as I said earlier. I tried my hardest in gym class. I bounced those basketballs as hard as I could. I ran as fast as I could. I rode those little wooden scooter things to my heart's desire. The end result? The only C on my report card.
At least the effort was there.
Unfortunately, effort didn't really matter very much at school. At my school, I think the majority of my teachers graded solely on athletic abilities instead of effort, and I felt that was the wrong thing for teachers to do. I mean, yes, it would have been nice to have had athletic skill, but shouldn't the fact that I shed more sweat and tired myself out trying to compete with the other kids mean anything?
In elementary school, it wasn't as bad. Sure, I had to deal with kids teasing me over my athletic ability, or lack thereof, but I could handle it. Some days were more fun than others, so I just tried to focus on that.
High school was even worse though. Ninth grade was okay, but when I got into tenth grade, it was horrible. It almost felt like I was the ninety-eight pound weakling, even though in reality, I was about 170 pounds heavier and could probably throw a concrete brick through a window.
(DISCLAIMER: I have not, nor ever, thrown a concrete brick through any window, though I've admittedly been tempted.)
I'm sure that I would have had a better time in gym class if one teacher in particular didn't outrightly tell my parents during the parent-teacher interview that my grade in the class would remain fixed at the same grade no matter how hard I tried, or how much perspiration was shed.
Certainly didn't make me feel any better about myself, that's for sure.
I never did take gym class again, and I really didn't care if I ever got any exercise ever again. I mean, no matter what, I had people telling me that I was mediocre and that I would never improve, so why bother?
This probably would be a great time to bring up the subject for the Monday Matinee.
One might think that the choosing of the 1998 film 'The Waterboy' is somewhat of an unusual choice. For me though, it makes perfect sense to talk about this movie.
I mean, listen to the description of Adam Sandler's character, as quoted on 'the usually unreliable, but since I've seen the movie, I know it to be gospel' Wikipedia.
Bobby Boucher is a socially inept, stuttering water boy with hidden anger issues due to constant teasing and his mother's (Kathy Bates) excessive sheltering. He became the water boy for the University of Louisiana Cougars[2] after being told his father died of dehydration in the desert while serving in the Peace Corps. However, the players always torment and the team's head coach, Red Beaulieu (Jerry Reed), eventually fires him for "disrupting" his practices. Bobby then approaches Coach Klein (Henry Winkler) of the South Central Louisiana State University Mud Dogs and asks to work as the team's waterboy. Coach Klein has been coach of SCLSU for years without success, after his brilliant playbook was stolen by Red Beaulieu.
The blue hyperlinks are an added bonus, courtesy of the copy and paste feature.
You know something, let's just come out with it right now. Aside from the stuttering part, and that my social ineptness could never be as bad as Bobby Boucher's, I'm almost like a carbon copy of Bobby.
Think about it. It makes perfect sense. Bobby was picked on by everyone around him. So was I. Bobby's social skills were not really all that developed. My social skills aren't quite as bad, but I didn't really have much game. I'll come out and say it.
Bobby had an incredibly sheltered life due to an overprotective mother. While I can thankfully say that my mother was NEVER as bad as Bobby's, there was some protectiveness there that I really didn't need. Though Kathy Bates was awesome in the movie, I must admit.
Even the part about the head coach getting on Boucher's case resonates true with me. For the coach was basically every bad gym teacher that I ever had combined into one arrogant, prickly pear of a man.
I just felt so bad for the guy. No wonder he had anger issues. When I was in high school, I admit that I had anger issues myself. We both ended up getting a raw deal in the world of sports just based on things that we felt we had no control over.
In the movie, it wasn't until Bobby got on a different team as the waterboy that his fortune began to change. When his new team began to harass him and make fun of him, the new coach urged Bobby to fight back against them. That advice awoke something inside Bobby, and what he did was tackle the quarterback with such force that the QB got K.O.'ed.
This instance really helped Bobby grow as a person. He went back to school, and went behind his mother's back to join the college football team as a linebacker. With Bobby's help, the team, whose previous success was inadequate at best, was on their way to the top. Bobby even managed to attract the romantic affections of his childhood friend, Vicki as a result of it...something that would have never crossed his mind before.
You see...without spoiling the ending of the movie, that's what the lesson I've learned is all about. In Bobby Boucher's case, he had almost every possible thing working against him. Yet, because of some support from a caring coach, it really changed his attitude towards everything. He started to like himself. He started to break out of his sheltered upbringing. He started to explore things that he never thought possible.
He found all that with encouragement from someone who supported him instead of bringing him down.
As for me? Well, I found that too. After years of avoiding it, back in 2009, I had heard about a charity walk that my workplace was a part of for quite a while. It was something known as the 'Walk for Miracles'. You basically headed to the site of the nearest children's hospital all across Canada and participated in a five kilometre (or for you non-metric types, about three miles) walk. You raised money for the children's hospital of your choice, and all the money went towards the purchase of new equipment for the hospitals as well as funding research for new treatments.
Back in 2009, I didn't think I would be able to do the walk. I got winded walking down the street, let along walking five whole kilometres. When 2009 began, I was very heavy, and I was so out of shape. After seeing a photograph that was taken of me at the 2008 Christmas party and seeing how horrible I looked, I knew that I needed to make a change.
So, with the help of some very caring co-workers, I made the choice to try and get in shape for a better lifestyle. I ate better, exercised more, and really stayed focused on the goal. As a result, by the time the Walk for Miracles came around, I had lost a significant amount of weight, and felt confident enough to do the whole walk.
Sure, when I got to the walk site, there was a 1km walk option, but by doing the 5km walk, I would be challenging myself...stepping out of that comfort zone to better myself.
I not only did that walk, but I finished at the front of the pack!
Take THAT, you fixed mark making gym teacher.
In fact, I've managed to do the same walk for three years in a row. It's a great cause, and I love raising money for a hospital that has saved thousands of lives because of the work we've done for them.
And, maybe...just like Bobby did...maybe that's what I needed to feel better about myself. To do something out of my comfort zone so that I could help others along the way.
A purpose for a purpose.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)













