Snowbirds - A People Watching Study

Instead of a study of a particular fictional character, this month I'm going to take a look at a real group that I have had many opportunities to people watch over the years - Snowbirds.

For those of you who don't know, a "Snowbird" is person, usually of retired age, who escape the harsh Midwestern winters by living in the Southwest for 3 to 5 months out of the year. Some who fall into this category are awesome human beings - the type who exude kindness, intelligence, and a good sense of humor towards this mess we call life.

Then, there are those who think they need to prove some kind of stereotype. It's like they step off the plane each year and are handed a checklist of annoying habits. A few things that are observed year after year include:

1. The number of people who wear perfume instead of deodorant goes from non-existent to 1/3 of the gym population.

2. Complaints about the youth of the world in a tactless, hypocritical way

3. Complaints about not being able to use coupons which are designated for stores that only exist in Wisconsin, Michigan, and Illinois

4. Making constant, unflattering comparisons between their state of origin and the state in which they are visiting

5. Staying in crowded restaurants for a very long time and wearing down the servers who are just trying to seat the waiting public

6. And of course, most notably, the traffic. From November to March, rush hour traffic (both am and pm) is infinitely more crowded. It becomes an epic tale of driving woe at 6:30 in the morning, when all you want to do is merge, but the elderly man in the Buick beside you is too busy listening to his wife to notice your turn signal. Where are they even going so early in the morning?

And again, this not meant to be a generalization, it's more of repeated behavior I have witnessed (especially when I used to work retail near a retirement community). Why is this way it is? If we were to breakdown these actions in the same way we would a fictional character, what would we find? What creates a sense of privilege when you are a place which is only your home half of the year? Is this what Persephone was like when she was in the Underworld? Did she always insist that the pomegranates from the surface world we sweeter than the ones Hades gave her? And why couldn't he just bring pomegranates from the surface? Would that me so inconvenient?

People watching is one of the best tools in a writer's trade. Even if the subject is driving you nuts, let your mind wander as you watch.

April Suggestion

Since Easter and April Fool's Day landed on the same day this year, pulling a prank on the actual day would be too obvious. However, pulling the prank the following weekend would be a "joyful" scene your family would never see coming. Here are a list of suggested pranks (*Disclaimer: I do not actually recommend you try any of theses unless you have unlimited funds, too much free time, and don't think they would leave any permanent emotional scarring):

1. Set-up all of the Easter decor once again and let your family wake up to think they've gone back in time.

2. You can keep repeating #1 to make everyone think they are trapped in a Groundhog's Day scenario.

3. Fill your house with rabbits. Then make everyone else clean up after them.

4. Have Night of the Lepus playing 24-7 on every TV, then hide all remotes and make the TVs impossible to turn off (*Side note: Look up Night of the Lepus if you have no clue what I'm talking about. It's magical)

5. Glue frilly Easter Bonnets to everyone's head while they sleep

6. Cover the front lawn of every house with plastic Easter Grass and replace the street signs with "Welcome to Fluffville."

7. Hide extra eggs which have not been hard boiled, then don't tell anyone about them. When the stench starts, pretend you smell nothing.

8. Replace the chicken eggs with lizard eggs and wait for them to hatch.

9. Give out only licorice jelly beans.

10. Take away the children's candy and tell them that it must be sacrificed or Spring will never come.

11. Paint everything in pastel colors. Ev-er-y-thing.

It will all be so full of the chocolate, egg, Christian, Pagan, and April Fools spirit. Everyone will be impressed that you cared enough to prank them as a surprise. And isn't that real meaning of whichever holiday we're talking about? No. Seriously. I already forgot.

In Defense of Puss in Boots

Brief History: The idea of a clever cat who tricks others in order to help a master is a common theme in many cultures across Europe, Africa, and Asia. This idea is thought to have started in Indian folklore and traveled to Europe. The most popular versions come from Italy or France. Despite what they try to convince you of in Shrek, this is how the story goes: A miller’s youngest son inherits a cat from his dad and the cat (who can of course talk) promises to make him wealthy if the young man gets him a pair of boots. No pants or shirt or cape. Just boots... for his back paws. With the confidence which only a new pair of boots can give, the cat then makes several trades throughout the town until his dealings lead him to the king. He presents the king with gifts sent from an imaginary master, the Marquis of Carabas. In order to introduce his real master to the king, he tells the miller’s son to pretend that his clothes were stolen by bandits. The king then wants to help the young man who he thinks has been sending him so many goodies and wants to match up the “Marquis” with his daughter provided that the lord show them his holdings. The cat then sets up other illusions to make the king think that the miller’s son is a kindly lord, beloved by his people (people who are actually people under the control of an evil, shape-shifting ogre). Not really sure how being the tenant of an ogre works? Would they still pay taxes or would the ogre just demand sacrifices? Off topic. Where was I? Puss in Boots also manages to fool the ogre into turning into a mouse, eats him, and claims the ogre’s property for his master. So, miller’s son, princess, and cat get to live in luxury for the rest of their lives, while the poor people on the ogre’s land wonder who the heck all of these people living in the castle are.

Analysis: Clearly, this is about listening to your cat. Need I say more?

Blame it on the Victorians: In some earlier versions, the cat is a fairy in disguise, is a female cat who is like a replacement mother taking care of the main character, or is secretly trying to play his master for a chump then has a change of heart. By the time Charles Perrault wrote it down in the 1800s, Puss was simply a talking cat. The role of a cat in Victorian society differed based on your social status. To farmers, cats were yet another animal to help around the house and keep down on the best population. For wealthy households, they were simply pets. Still, cats held a stronger sway over women of the time than men. Women who were trapped home all day long relied on the love and distraction of pets to keep them sane. This was when cat funerals, which is something we think of as being more sentimental and modern, came back into “fashion”.

Last thoughts: Stop giggling at the title. It means cat, you sicko.

* Side note: You ever watch the Puss in Boots with Christopher Walken in it? It's so magical you might not be able to stand it.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

An Ode to Spring

(Clears throat)

Oh Spring, bringer of life

How I hate thee

With both of my watery eyes

I curse each blossoming tree

With my nose which runs like a river

I despise thy flowers in bloom

Due to thy lack of mercy

I may never be able to leave my room

You Scream, I Scream, We All Scream for Banshee

Let’s just take a moment to recognize the lack of banshees used in popular media. Sure, Supernatural used it, as did several other “monster of the week” style TV shows. There are a few times cheesy horror movies have tried to bring back the Banshee without success. Darby O’Gil and the Little People made a good Banshee, which is pretty impressive for a Disney movie where they let Sean Connery sing. In honor of St. Patrick’s Day (and because I’m sick to death of Leprechauns being everywhere) let’s give a little love to the Banshee.

First off, what is a Banshee (for those of you unfamiliar with the creature)? Long answer, it’s a spirit of a woman, sometimes young and sometimes a hag, who combs her hair and wails by the shores of rivers— Eh. Nevermind. Short answer, it’s a spirit that warns of or predicts death by shrieking.

Therefore, let us all shriek, long and loud, in honor of a piece of Irish culture that doesn’t get colored by first graders. Deep breath in and…

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (gasp) aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

And done.

In Defense of Jack and the Beanstalk

Brief History: This is another one that most of you know: cow traded by dumb kid for magic beans, beans sprout giant beanstalk, beanstalk leads kid to a life of crime, giantess becomes a widow with no magic treasures for economic support. This story is pretty old. Even the earliest written version was published before a lot of other popular tales. Fee Fi Fo Fum can be found in Shakespeare’s King Lear. The English especially loved giant stories and ones where a guy named Jack kills a bunch of them were always the most popular. Sometimes elements from Jack the Giant Killer legends would find their way into the beanstalk story. Sometimes Jack even gets a last name – which never happens in fairy tales.

Analysis: Sometimes people like to look into this story from a Biblical aspect – ascending to Heaven and all that. Sometimes people like to read into the fear of man-eating giants who could have had the strength create some of the United Kingdom’s more impressive stone structures. Then there’s Bruno Bettelheim  who claimed the beanstalk was a phallic symbol. Gross. I’m going to focus on the fact that, although Jack the Giant Killer is always portrayed as an adult (who is constantly marrying different members of King Arthur’s court as a reward), this Jack is a kid. On the one hand, he’s a screw-up who betrays the trust of a giant wife that hides him each time despite his stealing from her. On the other hand, he’s a kid who gets a second chance to show his mom that he can do something to take care of her, an idea that was prominent in past time periods.

Blame it on the Victorians: As the story was retold/republished through the 1800s, Jack’s crimes of taking the harp, the goose, and the life of the giant are softened with added backstory. To keep their hero from becoming a villain or a bad influence on children, the writers start to add in ideas of revenge. A story of how the giant had killed Jack’s father or been the cause of the drought on his farm are told, usually by Jack’s suffering mother. Because it’s okay if little boys steal and murder as long as it is an act of vengeance... I mean justice.

Last thoughts: Fee Fi Fo Fum, I smell a near rhyme that really only works if you have a thick English accent.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

Character Study: Nemo

Once a month I’m going to do a writer’s blog. This will be stuff like advice, victories, woes, and reasons why I love great well-written characters from books, movies, and TV. Those blogs will include a breakdown of the character and why I admire the way that character was created.

For example, and let’s go old school for this short one, Captain Nemo from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Ever read it? Well, you should. I’ve read it twice in my lifetime. The first time was when I was little, according to my mom, although all I really remember from this first reading is my disappointment over there being no sea lion named Esmerelda (you lied to be again, Disney). The second time was several weeks ago over my winter break. I was in a cephalopod-esque mood and, let’s face it, there are very few fiction books that aren’t written by H.P. Lovecraft which can quell such a mood.

Jules Verne, besides being credited as one of the earliest science fiction writers, wrote a man who is both hero and villain. One side of the story, this mysterious captain is a great man. He believes in a better world and sees the beauty in nature. He even makes a comment about animal species going endangered when the harpooner Ned Land wants to hunt whales for fun. This blew my mind. This was such a progressive idea for Verne to include that despite it being only a single sentence it stuck with me. Nemo admires the main character and invites him into his private world of wonder and marine study. To the main character, the knowledge he gains is worth more than any treasure.

However, like the main character, you spend your time having to remind yourself that Nemo is also a terrorist. He built his submarine, the Nautilus, with the intention of destroying ships from various nations. He kills hundreds of people both before the start of the novel and during the time in which the main character is with him. He believes that what he is doing is noble. You never fully know the reasons behind this, but you can get a sense from obvious clues left by Verne.

This is the other reason why this character is so brilliant. Verne never fully explains Nemo’s background. The name Nemo literally means "nobody". He considers himself a man without a country and encourages his crew to be the same. He both values the life of his crew and endangers them constantly for his purposes.

The dude was a conflict wrapped in a plot twist, the sort of character writers didn’t bother to use for “fantasy” novels since they were considered to be tripe. Verne created something to make people think hidden in an adventure story, a concept which science fiction movies will use for the next century.

Nemo was the start of a grand tradition of making science fiction smart. He’s a non-villainous villain. You almost root for him… especially when he’s played by James Mason.

In Defense of Goldilocks and the Three Bears

Brief History: You all know this one. Little girl breaks into house, little girl messes with food, chairs, and beds until they are to her liking. Owners come home to find their lives have been violated. Little girl wakes up to discover that the owners were three bears and runs away. In earliest versions, Goldilocks is an old woman who never learned not to break and enter. The old woman is usually punished in some way at the end, either going to jail or ending up injured/outright dying in her escape attempt. In England, an early folktale version included a lady-fox who breaks into the home of the bears, adding to some sort of predator rivalry. And the bears weren’t always a family. In some versions they are three single male bears and it is their bachelor pad which has been messed with.

Although, if the old woman or the fox had tidied the home, I bet they would have been more upset (Am I right, ladies? Okay, cheap joke. Sorry)

Analysis: Don’t break and enter. Not that hard, people. I’m pretty sure there’s some feminine curiosity lesson in there too which brings me to the Victorians.

Blame it on the Victorians: This story became very popular starting in the 1850s and, like other fairy tales, was cleaned up through the generations. No more death, no more bachelor bears, no more little old ladies who just like sitting in other people’s chairs and breaking them. It got to the point where the story was so child-geared that later versions stopped mentioning that Goldilocks fell on her butt when the chair broke (just that it broke). And the cleaner it was, the more it became a moral tale instead of just a bizarre story about bears who have a mortgage and cook porridge.

Last thoughts: Ever see the Shelley Duvall’s Faerie Tale Theatre version? The one where Goldilocks (played by Tatum O’Neal) convinces the bears that she’s homeless so they take her in, only to then be accused of kidnapping her? Ha ha ha. Good times.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

February 14th – A Celebration

I hope you all had a fabulous Arizona’s Birthday! I know I for one look forward to it each year. I love eating fry bread while I watch Tombstone or 3:10 to Yuma, then avoiding all of the cactus candy sent to me by my many admirers. I know some of you have other traditions like wearing a bola tie to work or visiting a drive-through liquor store. And I know that you all rushed out to find that special turquoise or copper gift for that special someo—

Wait? What do you mean you were giving out chocolate and cards? Why did you wear red? What are you talking about? What hell is a Valentine?

In (Lack of) Defense of Patient Griselda

Brief History: This is a piece of European folklore that has been written down by Giovanni Boccaccio, Geoffrey Chaucer, and other big wigs of the Middle Ages. The version I’m focusing on was retold by Charles Perrault, but they are all pretty much the same. The story is about a rich marquis who decides to marry a poor woman named Griselda (which would have been the only tragedy of her life had she not met her husband). He decides to test this sweet lady various times including insisting that their children are taken away to be killed. Griselda, who promised to obey him, allows him to take her kids without any fight. He then forces her to live in exile for a decade or a so before announcing that he is going to remarry. Why does he tell Griselda this? Because he wants her to be a maid at the feast, of course. And wouldn’t you know it? His new bride is their twelve year old daughter (most versions make Griselda ignorant of this fact). Griselda continues to keep her mouth shut during all of the awfulness, never complaining or objecting to how she’s been treated. At last, her husband decides that she is worthy in his eyes. He restores Griselda as his wife, reveals that their kids are alive, and they all get to live in luxury with him. Some reward.

Analysis: First of all I haaaaaaaate this story. HATE IT! Why am I covering it within this blog, you may ask? To share my hate. Embrace how irksome this tale is. Let it feed you. Let it help you rally for equality and against the powers that be, whether your fight is social, gender, or economic woes.

Blame it on the Victorians: You know the Victorians liked this story. They were all about a woman’s value being based around what their husbands deemed important. It’s strange that a society ruled by a queen was so closed minded. Anthony Trollope, one of the lesser known Victorian novelists to us Yanks, used the theme of Patient Griselda in one of his novels in order to make some thinly veiled social commentary.

Last thoughts: HATE IT!!! HATE IT, I SAY!!!

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

Resolution Follow-Up

Apparently, under the influence of New Year's Eve "merriment" I wrote myself a list of resolutions. I placed it in a sealed envelope with a note to myself not to open it until February 1st and see how how I've gotten on my goals. Honestly, I don't remember any of this and have no clue what I wrote down.

Here it goes.

Breaking the seal.

Unfolding the paper.

The writing is pretty shaky, but I can make it out.


Huh. Okay then. Mission accomplished.

In Defense of Sleeping Beauty

Brief History: The oldest version of this tale is a really disturbing Italian story called The Sun, the Moon, and Talia. Forget the gore of Grimm. Forget the petty villains of Perault. This is the worst of them. Readers beware. The Sun, the Moon, and Talia is about a young woman cursed by a piece of flax from a spindle which puts her into a death sleep. Sounds familiar so far, right. Then, a king shows up and is enchanted by her beauty. Still sounds like Sleeping Beauty, right. The king then, in the throws of lust and an obvious need to be thrown in jail, rapes her and leaves! Talia gives birth to twins which manage to suck the flax seed from her finger, thus waking her up. Then the necrophiliac returns, finds his victim awake with two kids, and decides he wants them to be his secret family. Problem is that he’s already married. His wife tries to murder Talia and the kids, only to be killed herself by the king (my question is, why not just kill the king? He’s the worst part of this!). Eventually, the French got ahold of this story and Talia is changed to some variant of Rose, the king is changed to a prince, and the king’s wife into an Ogre mother-in-law who tries to eat Sleeping Beauty and their two kids. The Germans then shortened it further, ending the story with the kiss and everyone waking from a century long nap to wonder why the prince would kiss a sleeping stranger who was probably covered in dust.

Analysis: I am going to focus on the later, less upsetting versions in order to make my defense. Sleeping Beauty usually tells of a girl who has been sheltered with little control in her own life. Her parents never seem to trust her enough to just tell her that she’s cursed. Her pricking her finger is a direct result of their lack of faith that she could handle the information in the first place. Remember, parents. Talk to your kids about sleeping curses before it’s too late.

Blame it on the Victorians: Honestly, I’m just going to leave this one alone. Victorians want to switch out the full-on awful of the earliest versions for a non-consensual kiss, that’s fine. It's not great, but it's fine.

Last thoughts: I need a Disney movie.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

In Defense of the Juniper Tree

Brief History: Raise your hand if you’ve read this one? Okay, about five of you. Good. The history of the folklore behind this story is complicated and disputed. Just believe me when I say the Brothers Grimm picked it up from . . . someplace or another. And as far as Grimm themes go, this is a doozy. A woman, possibly under the influence of the devil, murders the stepson she’d been abusing. She does this by dropping the lid of a heavy chest on his head when he reaches for an apple (side note: Real life Frankish Queen Fredegund tried to kill one of her kids by similar means in the 6th century, but that might be a coincidence). She then feeds him to her unknowing husband and lets her daughter take the blame. The guilt ridden daughter puts what is left of her brother under a tree in the yard (sometimes an almond tree instead of a juniper tree) and he comes back as a bird. In his new winged form, the stepson sings of the crimes done to him while bestowing gifts to his father and sister. Finally, he drops a millstone on the stepmother and, with her death, he is brought back to life. His father, a clueless idiot, then announces that he and his children will be just fine. And the three walk away from the dust cloud surrounding his wife’s crushed corpse in the yard. Because that’s a happy ending apparently.

Analysis: This story has been analyzed to death by academics. You can focus on the cannibalism, the child abuse, the Biblical themes, but I’m going to focus on the sister (and a little bit on the cannibalism). Unlike stories where the stepsister/favored child acorn does not fall far from the wicked tree (i.e. Cinderella, The Faeries, etc.), the daughter feels legitimate remorse.  Marlinchen (or Margery) is a little girl who was too afraid to warn her stepfather that he’s eating his own son, but she is the one who starts a cycle of kindness towards her brother. Granted, everyone else is kind to him after he’s been devoured and changed into a bird, but better late than never?

Blame it on the Victorians: This one was too dark, even from the morbid loving Victorians. As the decades went by the story got tamer. The devil plays a more obvious role in the Stepmother’s actions. The abuse is downplayed. And, most notably, the little boy stew was removed. By the 1920s, it was standard to censor the cannibalism.

Last thoughts: Seriously! How dumb was his father? The song the boy-bird sings says, “My mother slew me, my father ate me”. But nope. He was just happy to get a gold chain out of the deal.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

In Defense of Hansel and Gretel

Brief History: Time for another popular one. This German ditty came from the wife of Wilhelm Grimm. A starving couple decides to lead their children into the woods and leave them there to die. Some historians and folklorists think this could be based off the Great Famine of the fourteenth century when Europeans were so hungry and desperate they killed their children out of mercy. The kids in this story try to outsmart Mom and Dad’s amazing parenting skills with a trail of pebbles, but their parents catch-on and take them even further into the woods the next day. Hansel tries to leave breadcrumbs, but you know how well that worked. They find the famed house of gingerbread where a kind old lady gives them diabetes inducing treats. The next morning, she is revealed to be a witch – dun dun dun! The witch’s favorite snack is fat little boys so she locks up Hansel in a cage and feeds him constantly. Side note: the idea of people resorting cannibalism is also something reported to have happened during the Great Famine. Gretel is made to be the witch’s slave. There’s a lot of trying to trick the witch into thinking that Hansel isn’t getting any fatter and the witch underestimating Gretel’s intelligence. In the end, Gretel tricks the witch into the oven, the kids find pearls in her house, and they go back home to find out that their mother died. Of course, I’m sure bringing home pearls guaranteed that he wouldn’t try to abandon them in the woods anymore.

Analysis: I could go on and on about both of the parents. But I’m going to just focus on the women of the story. Let’s start with the less-than-motherly mom and the child-eating witch. Both are introduced as characters the children should trust and both try to kill them. In the case of the mother, this is yet another example of filicide, which is a common theme in fairy tales. Why is it a common theme? Maybe it's better not to think too hard about history on that one. The witch is a little more unique. She fits more into the fears and superstitions of Europe’s past with her trickery and more importantly how she lives in the middle of the forest. People on the outskirts of society were always the first to be accused of dark deeds in the midst of a witch craze. When creating the fairy tale, the witch had to fit the stereotype or the “stranger danger” would have been less cultural. Lastly, Gretel. Even though Hansel uses most of the story attempting to keep his sister safe, in the end she had to rescue them both. This was also a more common theme than most realize. It was often left to the sister to save the family from magical problems.

Blame it on the Victorians: Englebert Humperdinck (real name, not made up) wrote an opera based on Hansel and Gretel which downplayed a lot of the nasty bits. The children are no longer abandoned by their parents, instead getting lost on their own. Despite help from the sandman and a fairy, the kids still end up in the clutches of the witch (who in this version turns children into gingerbread before eating them). This was performed in English for the people of Great Britain and made this kinder interpretation more popular. Some stories also changed the mother into yet another wicked stepmother.

Last thoughts: In best Bugs Bunny voice: Hansel? Hansel?

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

In Defense of the Snow Queen

Brief History: This is not an oral tale passed down from generation to generation then collected by some writer in the 1800s. This was a story created from the mind of Hans Christian Andersen. But despite being original it still is categorized as a fairy tale. It’s possibly one of the longest tales you will find in Andersen’s collection so I will try to keep this brief. The devil shatters a mirror over the earth, a piece of which falls into the eye of Kai, a little boy whose grandmother was constantly telling him and his best friend Gerda about staying away from the Snow Queen. However, with the splinter of mirror in his eye, Kai turns into a little brat and pretty much runs away with the Snow Queen first chance he gets. Gerda goes after him, being the only person in their city who doesn’t think he died. She gets both tricked and helped by a lady of eternal summer, a princess with a boyfriend that looks like Kai, a little robber girl, a reindeer named Bae (Andersen made it cool first), a Lapland woman, a Finnish woman, and a bunch of angels. I told you it’s a long story. When she finds the Snow Queen’s palace, Kai is busy doing a puzzle which he was told would earn him freedom and a pair of skates. Being a little kid with no memory of where he was from, he probably wanted the skates more. Gerda’s tears and love melts the mirror shard in Kai. They solve the puzzle and go home. When they finally make it back to the city, they are all grown up, but still “childlike”.

Analysis: I both loved and hated this story as a kid. All of the adventure through the seasons and Gerda constantly finding ways around the different obstacles made me happy. Then that ending. I could not stand it that the Snow Queen had basically stolen their childhood! As a kid who never wanted to grow up, it made me seriously rethink my plans of going on any sort of a fantasy adventure. And it’s interesting that Andersen would choose this ending as well. From what I understand, Andersen did not get along very well with adults at the best of times. For example, he asked the Swedish opera star, Jenny Lind, to marry him more than once. Lind, who probably found him understandably awkward, declined each time. Some historians think that the “icy hearted” bitch of a Snow Queen was based on Jenny Lind.* But how could that be? Writers never paint negative images of their exes in their stories. Nuh uh. Never ever.

Blame it on the Victorians: This story had a lot of obvious Christian values throughout. Gerda uses her faith to get her through many of the dangers and Kai’s grandmother quotes a Bible verse here or there. Besides that, something interesting about this story is that the children come from a city, not a medieval village or a dark forest. It has a contemporary setting which changes into a fairy tale world. This would have changed the moral uses for it slightly in the eyes of the Victorian readers in the midst of the industrial revolution. Andersen became extremely popular through stories like this. Of course, I also blame the Victorians nostalgia for childhood, yet belief that children should grow up as soon as they could work or marry on the ending.

Last thoughts: No, this isn’t like the Disney movie. Let it go!

*Side note: Lind actually gave a lot of charity concerts before doing nice things just for publicity was a trend, so I'd like to think that she wasn't an icy hearted bitch.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

A Short Holiday Scene (featuring Krampus)

Background: The character of Fable Skelly is part of series that will be released by Five Smiling Fish in the coming years. The series revolves around an immortal trapped in the form of a sixteen year old girl. She was the former minion of an ancient, obsolete goddess who manipulates her life at every turn. The task of keeping Fable from falling back under the control of her old boss has been given to Riley Carter, an idealistic seventeen year old. Riley Carter considers forcing the anti-social Fable to interact with other people as a part of his responsibility. This scene is from a holiday story in-which Riley and his best friend, Todd, have convinced Fable to come along to a large family gathering at a house in the Coconino National Forest near Flagstaff, Arizona. Enjoy and happy Kram— I mean St. Nicholas Day!

                Tossing my coat at me, Riley called into the kitchen, “Mom, we’re going for a walk.”

                “Stay warm,” the woman yelled back, “and be back before lunch.”

                Todd started to bundle himself, circling his neck with a thick scarf and struggling to pull on gloves.

                As I buttoned my own coat, I eyed him critically. “Seriously? It’s not that cold outside.”

                He pulled another jacket over the one he was already wearing, making the movement of his arms difficult. “Maybe not for you. You’ve lived all over the world. But I was born and raised in Phoenix and that out there is the white stuff of my nightmares. Plus, if we’re going to be eaten by a monster, I’m dying while warm.”

                “Good. Because you aren’t going to be able to run very far dressed like.” Riley slapped his buddy on the shoulder, nearly toppling him over.

                After another two minutes of Todd reassembling his outfit into something with more mobility, we trekked outside. Pine and dirt tickled my nose. Philos ran out ahead of us, rolling his furry body in the white powder. Standing back on all fours, he shook the wet from his back and grinned at me.

                “At least someone is having fun,” Todd mournfully stated. He watched miserably as his own breath clouds dispersed around him.

                We walked a little further and Phil skipped ahead of us with glee. By the time we had caught up, the large dog had frozen in his tracks. His fur bristled as a tall, broad shouldered man stepped out from behind a tree. He wore an expensive, well-tailored suit with a bright red tie under a wool trench coat. His cheeks glowed a cheery pink over the top of his white beard.

                “Nicholas,” I groaned. “What are you doing here?”

                Riley took his place at my side, tense and ready for a conflict. “Nicholas?”

                “Yes. Saint Nicholas.” As I said the name, my dog stopped his attack stance and sat in the snow at attention.

                Nick held out his hand for Riley to shake. “Riley Carter. It is very good to meet you my boy.”

                Riley’s eyes grew wide. Of all the mythical creatures he’d learned of, this was the first time I saw a twinkle within his iris. “You too, Mr. Claus.”

                The snow crunched. From behind the same tree emerged a monster, matted fur covered most of his body. He walked on a pair of goat legs and carried a birch switch and a chain in his human-like hands. Two impressive horns protruded from the top of his brown head as he turned his squinted eyes upon me. A long, forked tongue pointed at me and he chuckled.

                Todd gawked at the bow legs of the creature. “What is that?”

                “Krampus,” I explained. “From Europe. It used to be his job to punish the naughty children while Nick rewarded the good, but he got dropped from tradition for a while.”

                “What is he doing here?” Riley nervously wondered, glancing back at the house full of young cousins.

                “Renewed interests in the Krampus has permitted him to begin accompanying me once again,” Nick added. “It cuts down on my work load in certain parts of the world.”

                The furry creature stooped a little, the basket upon his back tilting when he moved.  He licked his long tongue around the outer part of his lips. His wide eyes ogled Riley and Todd with excitement.  He started to burble in his awful grunts, spit flying from his mouth.

                Nick translated.  “He says the boys have lustful thoughts and he would like to beat them with his birch switch.”

                Both of the guys shifted uncomfortably and took a step back.  I set my hands upon my hips and stared down the Krampus.  “No.  You may not beat them.”

                The monster began to blurt another series of babbles which ended in a raspberry.

                “Of course they have lustful thoughts! They're teenage boys!” I explained.

                “They're both pretty good kids. Either way, that isn't the reason why we are here.” Nicholas motioned for me to come nearer to him.

                “Why are you here?” I repeated. “Your saint day was weeks ago.”

                “There are a lot of frightened children in that house and I have power from my saint day to the twelfth night. That was the deal, remember.”

                “Okay, fine. Then why is he here?” I pointed at the Krampus who circled Todd and Riley again with his switch menacingly slapping his palm.

                Nick gave me a withered expression. “We were on our way to a holiday party. I’m his d.d.”

                “Are you kidding me?”

                “You want a drunk Krampus wandering around, then you keep criticizing me, young woman.” He straightened his coat as if it would retain his dignity.

                “Don’t you ‘young lady’ me. I’m older than you. And I’m handling this. Whatever is going on in that house isn’t something sugar plums will solve.”

                The saint stiffened a little and adjusted his leather gloves. “Very well. We’ll be off.” He whistled and Krampus stopped short. He had been hovering behind the pair of young men, his tongue inching closer to a wincing Todd’s ear.

                With a disappointed grunt, he trudged through the snow towards Nicholas. He only paused briefly to give me an awkward kiss on top of my hair.

                With a roll of my eyes, I watched him rejoin Nick. “I missed you too, I guess,” I told him with a smirk.

                The two Christmas characters started to move back out of sight, and then paused. Nicholas tossed a pear at me.  The firm peel felt cool and dry against my palms as I caught the fruit.

                Touching a finger to his nose, he gave me a grin. “If you do need us, let me know. Happy Christmas.”

                This time, I did let myself smile. None of us spoke until Nick and Krampus had vanished. Then I heard a yip and saw Todd jump a little. “Holy crap! That was Santa Claus! I knew he was real!”

                I tilted my head at him. “Why did you believe in Santa Claus? You’re Jewish.”

                “Just let him have this,” Riley softly chided, a warm smile refusing to fall from his face.


Some words of Holiday Cheer from Mrs. Claus

Hello dearies,

                I want to wish you all the merriest of—

                You know what. I can’t. I just can’t. I’m so sick of this sunshine and candy canes b.s. The holidays are hard. Everyone knows that they are hard. I’m going pour myself another glass of Fireball eggnog and get a few things off of my apron wearing chest.

                First of all, women will sometimes ask me, “How do you do it? I can’t even get my husband to take out the trash? How do you get that jolly fat man off of his jolly fat butt and to stay motivated enough for building toys and checking his list?”

                My husband works one night a year. Who do you think does everything else the other 364 days? I check the list. I bake cookies. I compromise contracts with the head of the elf union (and that Sprinkle-Toes is a shrewd negotiator). You want to trade lives and be constantly depicted as frumpy little old lady in a Thanksgiving parade, be my guest!

                This brings me to my next complaint. You know I’m actually quite healthy and thin, especially for my age. It’s not easy to keep this figure in the third century of your life, but I manage it. But no, they always get these chubby, grandmother types to play me in movies. I don’t even own a single ruffled nightcap or holiday themed dress. I have one green dress which I wear on Christmas Eve and that is it. If I wore velvet and holly all the year round, it would like never being able to take off your work clothes. My husband does wear his red suit a lot, but I’ll let you in on a secret. Those are actually his pajamas.

                Here is my true message of holiday cheer. Be cheerful when all of the madness is done. Don’t be asshats. Remember, this time of year is hard for everyone, even those of us who prep for it all year long.


Mrs. Claus

In Defense of the Gingerbread Man

Brief History: This is a take on a story that exists in a few different cultures. It always involves sentient food which mocks then tries to escape all who eat it. Eventually, this food gets cocky and ends up chopped anyway (usually by an animal which less-than-cleverly tricks it like a fox). Whether it be gingerbread man, pancake, dumpling, or Johnny cake, the history behind this story is vague. Traditionally, it is meant to be tale passed from women to children, a fact most like to imagine in a homey kitchen setting.

Analysis: I confess, I never really liked this story so I’m not so much defending it as I am just explaining it. If you really want to be deep with it, you can think of the woman baking the gingerbread man and accidentally giving him life as being some sort of metaphor for childbirth. But I feel like this just leads to gross jokes. So, let’s just go with, aww look at the annoying cookie.

Blame it on the Victorians: This story is super Victorian - as in the most popular versions weren’t written down until the 1870s. It is oh-so quaint and the morals are a rather loose. “Hey, look! That cookie came to life and is taunting us! Well, we are British! None taunt us! Bite his little Gingerbread head off!”

Last thoughts: The Stinky Cheese Man by Jon Scieszka is a far superior version to the original.

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.

In Defense of Rapunzel

Brief History: The earliest stories which are attributed to inspiring Rapunzel are of girls named after plants and stuck in towers. The most well-known is of course: pregnant woman craves radish, husband steals radish from witch (because apparently bartering isn’t that big of a thing in their village), witch takes baby as punishment. We all know it was just an excuse because she wanted a kid, which she then names after the said radishes. Rapunzel is placed in a tower when she hits puberty and her hair grows long enough for the witch to climb up, making a door for the tower obsolete. A prince hears her singing one day and tricks Rapunzel into throwing down her hair for him. Seeing he is not her witchy mom, Rapunzel is scared at first, but the prince keeps coming back until they eventually shack up. The witch, realizing Rapunzel’s clothes aren’t fitting and the her daughter is saying suspicious things like, “You’re so much lighter than—“, the witch punishes the couple by sending Rapunzel and the twins she’s preggers with to a desert. She also blinds the prince. Then there are some blind wanderings, some magic tears, and a happily ever after.

Analysis: So much mental abuse! So much! And Rapunzel never learns who her real parents are except in later versions of the story. Still, Rapunzel seems to want more. She understands that there’s a world outside of the tower that her “mother” won’t let her see and that the prince is a way to see it all. She’s naïve and scared, but she’s willing to go with him. I will also give the prince credit. He declares he “loves” Rapunzel almost immediately, but he doesn’t really make a move until he’s come to see her several times. He’s slightly more respectful than some other fairy tale princes… although he did fool her in order to sneak into her bedroom in the first place. Hmm. Now I'm torn.

Blame it on the Victorians: Towers are a metaphor for the lives of middle and upper class Victorian women! I know you’re rolling your eyes at this blog right now and the word “pretentious” is probably at the edge of your lips, but hear me out. Women of the upper class especially had to be perfect. The expectations of them were high, yet degrading. They were supposed to aspire to be damsels. The tower was supposed to be the safe place and as long as they had a husband, all was right with the world. The whole idea of a medieval lady in distress comes from this time and fairy tales were a great way to hammer that idea of being helpless and demure into a young lady's brain early. Suffragettes preferred images of Joan of Arc over fairy tales for this reason. She was still the medieval woman, portrayed as classically beautiful. However, she was a bad ass. She didn't need a tower or a prince. She had her own sword, damn it! Wait, where was I going with this?

Last thoughts: How good does conditioner have to be in order to withstand the weight of a grown man?

*If you want know any of the places where some of my research comes from, just contact me.