The other day we were watching "Elmo's Christmas Countdown." Predictably, there's a disaster with the result that (gasp!) there won't ever be another Christmas!
When Elmo learns this, he knows just what to do. He walks to where he can see the sky. He finds a Christmas star, and makes a Christmas wish for a Christmas miracle that everything will turn out all right.
I'm such a schmuck; I almost started crying right there because a puppet was making a wish on a television show -- not, I might add, for world peace, or for the environment, or an end to hunger, or even for Christian Salvation; but for Santa Claus to show up and hand out toys.
What's worse is that just thinking about a small red furry puppet making a wish chokes me up.
Is this the kid's fault? Or am I getting dotardly?
Unfortunately, I get the same way when the Winter Warlock wishes for one last piece of magic during the wedding scene from "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town."
I guess it's the folks who make Christmas specials' fault. Except...
In "Fantasia," the Disney animators set Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony in a mythologic Mt. Olympus, complete with Pegasi and Unicorns. During the storm movement, I used to have to resist the urge to throw up when the mother pegasus rescues a baby pegasus from the storms and they win the safety of their nest. Fast forward to just a little while ago when I was watching "Fantasia" with A -- now I have to resist the urge to clutch A to my bosom and not drench him with tears.
Damn! Damn! Damn! What little pheromone spell has messed up my artistic sensibilities?!
Don't get me started on the good-bye scene from "The Wizard of Oz." Sigh; I guess I'll have to have a viewing of "Moulin Rouge." Oh. Wait...
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