2003-10-02 - 11:08 p.m.
I didn't exactly know what I was looking for, until I saw it, and I thought, "A little Whinnie-the-Pooh, will do; that's what I need!" I ran upstairs desperatly clutching the great anniversary edition of this classic to get a cup of chai.
I let the scenes from the movie go away, not even to the recesses of my mind, just out and away, as I mouthed parts of the stories out to myself and shook with laughter direct from the heart. Music, people, nothing was in my world except these animals, my imagination, and warm sugary stuff in my stomache, so it didn't matter that I looked a little crazy if anyone cared to observe me.
The chapters recalled so many random meetings of the A.A.Milne Society until the very last stories. I selected the last three to make my world this evening. Then I read the last one, the one where Christopher Robin grows up and goes away taking Pooh with him, but not taking Pooh with him. I saw myself in the Wood with Pooh saying that very thing not long ago; that's when I nearly broke, that's when I wanted to ask Someone if everything today had to be about growing up and all its lonely horrors? If Whinnie-the-Pooh and Christopher Robin were not to escape, then neither was I.
But it seemed to me, in reading, that Milne had something to say about everyone and everything. So I looked for a poem for Ryan as he ventures off to Manhattan, having never before been there, having grown up in mid-western farm country all his life, and having guts to follow this dream. Someone like that should have a little encouragement, because he is excited, but he is scared, very scared, and he should be. I found nothing when I looked.
I very much want to read more Milne and bring these tales to work. We need more simplicity and innocence to mellow the days. A few of them will take it kindly, but a few others will not hear me retelling the Billy Goat's Gruff for them like I did today for Michael.
Today started out great because I received an extra-mile recognition in Workin' for delivering the matza balls a few weeks ago. The day grew steadily worse, ending in misery when someone put away the newly sharpened fish knife before my 30 day test, and I did not know where to turn as I pretty much butchered the salmon. My face has never burned like that before, and may not again, since I was both disrespecting the food, and failing my test before my greatest critic. A guest can criticize all he likes, but his criticism will never be anything like it comes from Carlos.
Tiddily-Pom.
