An Animated Essay on a Titillating Tag

For those of you who’ve read my blog in the past, you might remember that I am a huge fan of animated films. (With a special concentration on the Disney brand.) So when Matthew Urdan of Meltwater Torrents Meanderings Delta sent me a tag asking me to list my favorite animated films of all time, I was rather intrigued. Not intrigued enough to actually respond to the tag, mind you, but intrigued enough to write a blog entry about why I feel this tag is a particularly hard one for me. (Sorry, Matt, I know this wasn’t what you were expecting, but perhaps you’ll understand after I start pontificating.)

The truth is I love all animated films, even the earliest Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons. I appreciate all the time and energy that goes into pulling off such an amazingly labor-intensive achievement. And I marvel at all the creativity and imagination used to bring the story and characters to life. So to answer a question about my top ten favorite cartoons of all time is not only unfair, but also downright sadistic. What if I pick the wrong ten? What if, while assembling my list, I completely forget about one of my all time favorites? Say, Snow White, for instance. Then later, Snow finds out about my oversight and decides not to be friends with me anymore. And even worse, she forbids me from ever playing leapfrog with the Dwarves again, which as you all know is a favorite pastime of mine. Or what if Monsters, Inc. goes bankrupt because I did not include them on my list, and therefore they don’t have the full emotional support they need to survive? I even hesitate to think what Bambi’s mother might say if I don’t include her son as one of my favorites. It would just kill her!

But wait. That is not even the extent of Matt’s tumultuous tag…no, my dear readers, it gets much worse. For not only did he command me to list my top ten favorite animated films, but he also forced me to choose a character in each film that most resembles me. Horrors! Can you imagine the inner turmoil I’d be suffering while trying to work all that out? Not to mention the angst I’d endure wondering if anyone was making value judgments about me based on what characters I happen to identify with.

Or what if I couldn’t find a character, so I chose one at random, and then was stuck with that moniker for the rest of my life? (“Oh, he chose Ratatouille, so he must be a real rat.” Or “Do you think he chose Pinocchio because he’s a liar, or because he has appendages that grow to unusual sizes?”) And what if I identified with various aspects of a certain character, but not the whole person? Like, I had the independence of Belle, the vanity of Gaston, and the misunderstood personality of the Beast? Would people consider me schizophrenic?

No, I’m afraid this tag is much too difficult for someone as devoted an animated connoisseur as myself. I simply cannot compare one film to another. How can you compare the brilliance of the Evil Queen’s transfiguration into the Old Hag in the original full-length animated feature “Snow White,” with the technical wizardry of something like “The Incredibles” or “Toy Story.” You can’t. They are completely different animals. And yet I love and appreciate them both. As well as everything that came in between.

Well, with maybe one exception. “The Black Cauldron” was a definite low point in Disney animation, and temporarily turned me off to the genre for a period of time. Plus, I was in high school and animation was just not cool any more. Except maybe Saturday morning cartoons, which somehow passed as quality entertainment amongst the cool crowd. But once “The Little Mermaid” came along in the 90s, I was not only hooked again, but an even bigger fan than I was as a child.

To this day, I make my annual sojourn to the “homeland” every year (Disney World) and have my office completely covered in animated statues, posters, and figurines. It allows me to work in an environment that is happy and colorful and just a little bit “off.” Would it work for everyone? No. But for me, someone who grew up constantly escaping into the world of his imagination, my office is a colorful little retreat from the often-grey colors of the real world.

Plus, I wouldn’t want to cause any animosity among the figurines if I should choose a movie that represents some but not others. (The Queen of Hearts and Captain Hook statues can be particularly nasty when they want to be.) All I’d need is for a few of them to get a little jealous, start a feud, and the next thing you know I’m cleaning up huge piles of porcelain and resin off the floor. So to avoid that, I’m going to remain neutral like Switzerland on the topic.

But that’s just me. What are your top ten favorite animated films of all time, and what character would you identify with in each? (Go ahead, you try it….!!!!)

The Sad Saga of Assembling Seven Songs

The other day I was “tagged” by Roxy of Roxiticus Housewives to assemble a list of seven songs I am currently listening to on my iPod. She was, of course, assuming I already had an iPod and could easily tap into my “frequently played” list to find my most popular current choices. But for those of you who read about my unfortunate subway incident in Madrid, you will know that I no longer have an iPod. In fact, I no longer pay attention to music at all, preferring to spend my days listening to the gentle rustle of mice beneath my floorboards. (Just kidding about the last part. I still listen to music and I don’t have mice. At least I don’t think I do. I’m sure the cats would have found them by now.)

Anyway, in order to comply with Roxy’s wishes, I had to go out and buy myself a new iPod so I could truly immerse myself in the creative process. Yes it’s true, I could have easily made up a list of seven random songs and just told Roxy they were on my iPod. But that would be dishonest. And if I know one thing about certain Desperate Housewives, they do not put up with dishonesty. (Especially someone as prude and prudent as Bree.)

So out to the local Circuit City I went, credit card in hand and a calliope of famous tunes swimming in my head. Unfortunately, the local Circuit City was all sold out of iPods, or maybe they never had any iPods to begin with. I wasn’t really sure, because I couldn’t understand the salesperson that waited on me. His English was not that great, nor were his translation skills. And when I tried to ask another salesperson for help, he got very angry and started cursing me in another language. (Or at least I assume that’s what he was doing, as his vocal histrionics involved an awful lot of spitting.)

Needless to say, I left Circuit City and headed over to Best Buy, where I was sure I would find what I was looking for. Sure enough they had plenty of iPods available for sale. But because of some kind of fluke shipping mishap, the only color they currently had available was pink. Honestly. It was like they were having a Barbie convention or something.

So I left Best Buy, hoping to reach the Mac store at the Mall before it closed. With fifteen minutes to spare, I ran from my car, into the mall, past Macy’s, past Sears, past The Disney Store, until I finally reached my destination---the Mac Store. Surely they would have a wide variety of iPods to choose from. And a large selection of colors as well. I glanced at the window before entering the store, and was relieved to see a multitude of options and models. Thank God. I would finally be able to get my iPod, go home and load it with music, so I could finally figure out what I was listening to.

But as soon as I tried to enter the store, I noticed a sign taped across the entryway that read “Sorry for the inconvenience. We are currently closed for inventory.” I’m sure you can imagine the string of expletives that came bursting forth from my mouth, as the frustration of my situation overwhelmed me. After a short tirade, I left the mall, only to find my car had been ticketed for parking in front of a fire hydrant. Only I didn't know it was a fire hydrant, because it had recently been painted to look like a garden gnome by a local group of schoolchildren as part of their “Let’s Make Our Neighborhood Colorful” project. Lucky me. (I didn't know it was supposed to be a garden gnome, either. I thought it was a statue of Ross Perot.)

After such a horrendous experience, I still have not assembled the list of seven songs, though there are several four-letter words that have gotten a lot of airplay in my household lately. One of them, being the name “Roxy” for putting me through such a terrible ordeal. (Just kidding, Roxy.)

So for now, I have still not assembled my list of seven songs. But that's just me. What are the seven songs you are listening to constantly these days?