Eye of the tiger.

Eye of the tiger.

I don’t like salt on my margaritas.  There.  I said it.  Hate me if you like.  Do you recognize the Spanish villa tile?  That’s right.  We had a drink and dinner at Chili’s prior to seeing Where The Wild Things Are on Friday.  Right away I will tell you not to take small children, elderly neighbors or scaredy-cat friends to this movie.  It’s not really scary.  It’s just dark.  The not-so-kid-friendly kind of dark.  You may ask yourself, “But I thought this book was a kid’s book?”  My mother reminded me this morning that Maurice Sendak (the author) was criticized back in the 70s for writing a dark children’s book.  His reply: I don’t write books for children. 

And here’s why that makes sense to me: Not until I was an adult and buying “children’s books” for my niece did I pick up WTWTA and reread it.  I GET it now.  When I was a kid the book wasn’t pink or have puppies bounding across a field on the cover, so it wasn’t my fave.  Now that I’m an adult and have moved (slowly) away from things pink and Lord knows I love puppies, but they don’t monopolize my attention (as much), my appreciation for all things artistic has broadened.  I appreciate the drawings in the book so much more now, not to mention the story.  THE STORY.  So, it also dawned on me as an adult how my imagination has developed borders, lines not to be crossed.  My logical brain stymies my imaginative flow when it says, “No. Stop.  Roosters don’t tap dance on demand.  That’s idiotic.”  As a kid, that rooster would have been tap dancing and singing “Hello, my baby. Hello, my honey. Hello, my ragtime gal” with three eggs with no eyes or hands just feet doing back up dancing with no objections from my brain.  Doesn’t that sound fun?  Maybe a little creepy because the eggs don’t have eyes or hands, but you get my point.  As we grow up, we lose a little bit of our creative license.  Most of us do anyway.  Kudos to those adults that don’t.  I think they all work at Pixar.  Thanks, Mr. Sendak, for reminding me what the world looks like from an uninhibited point of view – or maybe it was just the El Presidente margarita.

The movie was great.  I have a feeling that not everyone will like it and to that I say, “Nanny-nanny-boo-boo.  I don’t care.”

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