When I was a kid.
Before elementary school days.
There were four videos I used to demand to watch all the time.
I'd choose one.
Pop it into the Betamax player.
Then settle, cross-legged in front of the television.
There was Old Yeller.
Whereupon I'd cry and cry and cry when Old Yeller died.
Then demand to watch it again.
Where, despite my overwhelming fear of this movie.
And I'm sure, the reason for all my sleepless nights and sleepwalking.
I just wouldn't stop watching it.
Where I wonder sometimes what Mother Mary and Father Darling were thinking.
Allowing their 5 year old daughter to watch SNL.
And any of it's accompanying movies.
And The Beniker Gang.
Where my first crush was settled on Andrew McCarthy there and then.
It's an odd assortment.
And sometimes I sit here.
Is there any part of me that is defined by these beginning movies?
What does it all mean...