I think one of the saddest things in the world is being disappointed by something held in high esteem for one reason or another. I say this in reference to the movie I just watched; "Cry Baby." You know the one with Johnny Depp and the tear drop tattoo?
I was OBSESSED with that movie when I was about 11 years old. My sister (then 8) and I used to watch the VHS incessantly until my mom decided that the content was either too sexual or too violent or too something- and hid it away in a drawer we weren't tall enough to reach. Every so often, through the years, I would be reminded of this beloved cinematic treasure and smile to myself, remembering how much I loved watching it.
Well, for the first time in 16 years, I watched Cry Baby.
It was terrible, to say the least. And now that memory is ruined.
I will no longer hear the the lyrics of "Please Mr. Jailer" and think back to the many afternoons my sister and I sat next to each other on my parents' bedroom floor, cross legged, staring intently at the screen so as not to miss one line or outfit flashed across the screen. Instead, I'll think about that lonely night (tonight) I sat at home- lethargically channel surfing, eating peanut butter with a spoon, and wasting over an hour of my night watching one of the worst movies I have ever seen. Or possibly it wasn't really the worst- I just happened to expect too much from it.
I learned my lesson long ago not to attempt to repeat my favorite experiences. This particularly applies to traveling (repeating countries/cities). But now? Now, I must begin to rethink my movie, book, and music choices as well. I guess I won't be reading "where did I come from?" as my bedtime story tonight. I wouldn't want to destroy yet another fond childhood memory. Let's hope tomorrow is a better day.