I’ve watched the classic Disney movie Winnie the Pooh again recently. It’s not by choice.
My mother-in-law has a lot of children’s videos and dvd’s and loans them out to my kids when they come over to her house. While this is very nice of her, there is a downside.
I work at home. The VCR, dvd player and tv are in the same room as all three of the working computers in our home. Though we limit the amount of time that Abby and Rebecca watch tv, kids often watch the same movie over and over again if they like it.
They like Winnie the Pooh.
As a result I’ve heard it many too many times in the 2 weeks that they’ve been borrowing it. I look forward to the next time they visit their grandma. It means that they will return the video and I won’t have to hear any of the songs in the movie again.
Not that that will make a difference. I can sing most of them from memory now. Occasionally they pop into my head and repeat themselves just for no good reason.
With any luck I’ll be able to avoid breaking into song when I’m with a client. I’m thinking that Tigger’s song would be a good one to avoid. An excerpt:
fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!”
“Another wonderful thing about tiggers is
I’m the only one!
IIIIIIII’m the only one!”
Here’s one thing I’d forgotten about Winnie the Pooh: It breaks the fourth wall. The narrator talks to the characters and actually helps Tigger out of a tree. It’s pretty odd. Also, some of the animations (I’m thinking in particular about the one for “Heffalumps and Woozils”) are psychedelic.
Interestingly, Christopher Robin, the son of the author of the Winnie the Pooh books, had very mixed feelings about being famous. Let me rephrase that for greater accuracy… He hated being famous, something that ultimately strained his relationship with this father.
There’s some sort of lesson there about being careful about what you write about family members. On the other hand, I recall that Kurt Vonnegut’s son ended up having mental heath issues that Vonnegut’s success played some role in–and so far as I know Vonnegut didn’t write about his son at all. So it may be that lessons aren’t especially easy to draw.
It may just be that fame is bad for kids.
Whatever the case, I know that I liked Winnie the Pooh books and movies as a child and I’m sure many other people did as well.
I’m just hoping my enjoyment survives the current bout of overexposure to Pooh.