I am sure that I am not alone, with both men and women alike [but mostly women], that there are multiple generations of us whose youths are rife with stories of princesses, fairies, princes, and magical creatures. It would seem to me that it is impossible for anyone past the age of 7 to have lived their life thus far without some sort of story along these lines. And if you haven't... maybe you really should, they're pretty fabulous for the soul. They exercise creativity. You learn some really fabulous songs. However, in my current state of near un-employment and ever increasing self doubt in regards to getting a job I actually want, I have grown acutely aware of a certain disconnect between the ideas of fairy tales, and the demands of the modern world.
Let's take that lovely gentleman Disney's [or his gigantic company's] take on "The Little Mermaid." I hate to admit it, but I would probably qualify as having just as many gadgets, gizmos, and whos-a-ma-bobbits as a certain mer-girl that we are familiar with. My family is quite wonderful, sure, we don't live in a castle, but shit, in Ariel's castle we'd all be drowned. I would like to believe that I have been in love. On better days, I'm usually pretty sure about that [let's not get into this philosophical can of worms just right now...]. Albeit, MY "prince charmings" didn't exactly have perfect hair, save me from an unfortunate demise involving a tentacled villain, or anything quite that dramatic. But, why is it that the largest accomplishment of the movies of my youth deal primarily with the concept of "ideal love?" And yes, "ideal love" could make your life richer, even normal love can be ridiculously beautiful and fulfilling. But it will never directly pay the bills, love won't raise your IQ [as far as I'm aware at least], and it definitely won't keep you in a size 2. Ariel never asks Eric whether or not he'll be able to support a family, what kind of health benefits he has, or what kind of life goals he's aspiring to achieve. ...Not that she would have really had to... he was a prince for fuck sake. Sure, we have the rest of our lives to worry about shit like that, but really...? I sure don't feel like I needed any help developing obsessive desires for fabulous shoes, designer bags that I can't afford, comfortable leather furniture, or an accumulation of "stuff" to make sculptures out of.
So, Disney, thanks a bunch for filling my youth with some really memorable stories and songs. My friends and I still sing them on occasion. But next time, maybe slip in something about how even qualified people have trouble getting jobs, or emphasize qualities in a mate that go beyond good looks, love at first sight, and heroically saving damsels in distress. Maybe slip in something about how true love isn't resolved in an hour and a half or less. Or don't. Regardless of all this bitchery, at least I can say that I didn't spend my formative years watching The Hills or the OC.
