LMJ has discovered Winnie the Pooh, and that’s pretty much all she wants to do now is watch Winnie the Pooh – over and over and over. Actually, she just wants it on. I’m more into it than she is. It’s a sweet story with sweet characters and a sweet ending. I think Pooh has some kind of honey addiction. I don’t know if Milne meant it as a metaphor for heroin, but the chubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff does seem a little bit stoned. Even if it is a social commentary, it doesn’t matter. What’s getting me is the thought of eating a bowl of honey: sitting down, pouring a pint of honey into a bowl, and eating it. I’m getting hung up on a mouthful of honey. I don’t mean a big bite of honey spread on a piece of bread. I mean honey as a thick sweet stew. Could I swallow all of it before I started to freak out? Could I deal with the inevitable mess before MJ started to freak out? If I did eat sixteen ounces of honey, would I slip into a diabetic coma? What would that feel like? What would it feel like to vomit a bunch of honey? Unfortunately, as I sit here writing, that’s starting to sound like a wager. The story never gets into what type of honey Pooh prefers – orange blossom, clover, etc. – which gets us back to the heroin metaphor. As long as he gets his fix, it doesn’t matter. My feelings about the characters are changing as I watch the movie more and more. I used to like Tigger. He used to be my favorite character, now he’s starting to annoy me. He’s kind of stupid. I think he’s LMJ’s favorite because all she wants to do is bounce. I see Christopher Robin completely differently than I did when I was a kid. I never saw the point of him. He was a little bitch with little bitch shoes. Now I see him as the glue of the story. He’s a sweet little boy on the verge of making the transition into school, and seems to be trying to hang on to his innocence just a little bit longer. Maybe I’m over thinking it. Maybe I should just enjoy it for the songs. I can do that.
