Peter Pan

My husband was on his computer when he caught a glimpse of Christopher Walken tap dancing in a scene from the made-for-tv "Peter Pan."  From that moment on he could not rest until we saw the entire show.  Well, I was listening to Wagner's "Siegfried" on my cd machine, but true hearted guy, generous hubby, or total wimp and doormat that I am, turned that off and sat down before the television.  We never watch commercial television or maybe I guess it is called network television, only once in a great while, so it is always a shock to me to discover that for every few moments of entertainment the viewer must sit through incredible amounts of mindless advertising.  Thus it is and always has been, and yet again I thank the Lord that I came to maturity before television, and thus never became addicted.  I am always surprised to meet mature persons who unashamedly and happily report that they have spent several daytime hours watching the screen.  So extraordinary when you consider that most of this time is staring at commercials.  When I am on the treadmill at the gym I am forcibly given one of the so-called news networks which invariable display some bimbo with shoulder length hair and a remake of her face who purports to be the new Walter Cronkhite as she offers up the latest piece of heartbreaking nothing in lieu of honest reportage.  But I digress.  Back to "Peter Pan."  The first delight was to discover Marnie from Lena Dunham's tv show whose character I always despised on display here as a very lovely and talented Peter Pan.  Who knew that Marnie could be this sweet, serious dear girl going on woman?  Yeah!  Obviously I have a problem separating an actor from her dramatic persona.  And then I became entranced as Marnie as Peter asked over and over again "Do you believe in fairies?"  Yes, I said, stop all this nonsense of being one of the guys.  Yes, world, believe in fairies.  We have finer sensibilities.  Believe in us as we are, for heaven's sake.  It was completely taken with this thought, and imagined all the aging racist bully thugs on the bicycle machines at the gym to whom I should like to ask sweetly next week "Sir, do you believe in fairies?"  It's going to be fabulous!  After awhile those advertisements got to me so I went back to "Siegfried" somewhere in the middle I guess, and I don't know somehow it sounded like a continuation of "Peter Pan."