Little bit of a Confessional Today.


The movie, The Wizard of Oz, creeps me out to no end. I think I’ve talked about this before but let me tell you why.

When I was growing up on the farm, my grandmother lived in a trailer on the home place. There were 2 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms, one my grandmother’s and one was my uncle’s when he came back. One night when I was about 5, my sister (who was probably about 11 at the time) decided to go use my uncle’s bathroom. Well, being the creepy kid that I was, I followed….and made her tell me the story of The Wizard of Oz. She got to the part of the flying monkeys and I looked at the door that led to my uncle’s room and decided that was enough. I got scared of the movie. Ironically, I also got scared of the bathroom to. I didn’t use it until I was like a senior in high school. Anyway, to this day, I’m scared of The Wizard of Oz. No, scared isn’t the right word. Maybe, creeped out is. Yeah, I’m creeped out. It still gives me dreams of flying monkeys and funny looking guards with weird hats after I watch it. No idea why it still has this weird hold on me after so many years. (it gets worse after a few drinks)

Now, get this. I still watch the movie. I own it. Why? I don’t know. But I don’t mind it if I’m watching the commentary of it. It doesn’t creep me out then. I know, I’m a complex creature. Marvel in my weirdness.

The copy I own is an anniversary edition and it also has on it a made for t.v. movie on L.Frank Baum’s life. (author of the books) I remember watching this movie. It came out in 1990, when I was 2, but I think it was on t.v. a few years later and I watched it and there’s parts where Baum is telling the story of Oz and he goes into this dream-sequence like thing and let me tell you, it creeped me out. Are we seeing a trend here? Because we should be.

I decided to watch The Wiz on Netflix. It has Diana Ross and Michael Jackson in it, it’s a Motown version and it came out in 1978. Any guesses how I reacted? It wasn’t pleasant. No, it wasn’t. It might be creepier. I’m still cringing from some of the images in my head. It’s like a horrible flashback. This is probably a great movie to someone other than me but, let’s face it, I can’t handle this.

I kind of want to read the book. The original book, the one that started it all. Not the Wicked series (I’ve tried reading those and just couldn’t get into it) or any other spin-off series. The original series. My question is, am I glutton for punishment? I don’t know. I’m leaning toward yes. I want to know what other people think about me reading this book. Yay or nay.

P.S. My birthday is this week. YAY!


One response »

  1. Pingback: I Gave In. | Fusteratedreader's Blog

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