Point Break of the Speed Matrix

On Memorial Day I was chatting with my pal Hammy about the serious issues our country is facing during these hard economic times.  That’s a lie.  We were singing songs from The Little Mermaid and drinking Bud Light out of can in the rain (again, thank you service men and women).    She said that her favorite song from the movie was sung by Ursula and it’s #2 on my scale after Les Poissons  (foppish fat Frenchy beats sarcastic husky voiced villain everytime in my book).  As I tried to recall all the lyrics I was flooded with fond memories of my awkward prepubescent years… which are not much different than today except for the fact that I’m not currently wearing Panama Jack boxers underneath an itchy plaid jumper while writing furiously in my journal… I’m wearing itchy lady businesswoman office clothes and typing into my “space computer diary”.

Every Friday for about a year my BFF and I would sing along with the movie while making brownie batter (it never made it to the oven)  and setting each other’s hair in hot rollers.  We’d crack jokes about Ursula’s ridiculous cleavage and Prince Eric’s shockingly obvious bulge.  We’d try to outdo each other’s French accent during Les Poissons and wonder aloud about the kind of boys we’d date once we matured and were given metaphorical legs of our own.  

I just looked up the lyrics to Ursula’s song.  Upon reading them I was hit with two thoughts:

1.  As a rule, the lyrics sung by the villain are supposed to be shocking, ridiculous, skewed or just plain false.

2.  The lyrics depict exactly how Ariel gets her man.

…[C]ome on, they’re not all that impressed with conversation
True gentlemen avoid it when they can
But they dote and swoon and fawn
On a lady who’s withdrawn
It’s she who holds her tongue who gets her man!

Thankfully my BFF and I were dense enough (full of brownie batter) for none of that nonsense to seep into our subconscious.   We not only got our legs but voices as well.  And yes, perchance there may have been times when our yaps have gotten us in trouble and taken us down a notch on the “elegant and demure scale”  but we never really saw being quiet and mousy as desirable.  Why not just say the funny thing?  Why not laugh as hard as you can when you can?  Why not share embarrassing moments about which others can identify?  

I don’t really know what my point is here and perhaps a mousy girl might provide a more delicate description for what I am about to conclude but the best summation I, me, Tara, can give right now is “everybody poops”.  We all may as well laugh about it.

Tags: Movies