Context: In a previous post, I mentioned that I could write an entire post about religion in Harry Potter. A friend from my ward later approached me and requested that I write said post. So, this year for Harry's birthday, I'm essentially dishing up an essay about Christianity in Harry Potter.
For the 20th anniversary of Harry Potter, I bought a special edition copy of TIME. I haven't yet had a minute to sit down and read it, but when I was flipping through it the other day I saw that one of the articles within appears to be on this same topic. I decided not to peruse further so as not to taint my own thoughts. So disclaimer: this post is composed entirely of the beliefs and thoughts I've had about the series for years and has not been influenced by any outside sources.
Not long after my parents started getting into Harry Potter, my mom taped a documentary/interview-type piece about J. K. Rowling and her journey in writing the series. I think this was a little before the first movie came out. It was definitely before the Internet's heyday, which would explain why the interview seems to have never made its way online.
There were a couple of things in this piece that I've never really heard people talk about. The first thing I remember was a few minutes talking about how Hagrid's story is actually based on the story of some minor Roman or Greek god. The second thing I remember was J. K. Rowling telling the interviewer that for her, writing these books was a way to explore her religious beliefs.
Being a smallish child, this made me feel uncomfortable. I was still coming to terms with my own religious beliefs. I remember thinking something like, "Should she do that? Can she do that? Can a fun action-adventure-fantasy series actually be religious?" (I didn't yet realize that both Chronicles of Narnia and The Lord of the Rings are based on a religious model.)
I never knew J. K. Rowling to bring that topic up in an interview again, but it really impacted me. As the later books were released, I examined each one through a religious lens. When seen through this lens, the entire series is pretty much about Christ.
Let me lay out my case. We know that Harry's mother sacrificed herself for him, which resulted in a protective magic. Dumbledore is aware of this from the beginning; he shares it with Harry in the first book. At the end of the fourth book, Voldemort also talks about how Harry's mother sacrificed herself. He calls it "old magic" and says that he should have remembered it. I believe I read the fourth book for the first time not long after seeing that interview, and when Voldemort mentioned this old magic I immediately thought of Christ's sacrifice. I've always believed that's what Voldemort was referring to. He was raised by Muggles, so he would have known the Christian stories. He disdained anything that had to do with Muggles, though, so it makes since he would have dismissed the notion of a protecting "magic" through sacrifice until he was faced with it.
Now, Dumbledore wasn't raised by Muggles, so it's less obvious how he would have been acquainted with this idea. It's unclear through the series exactly what role religion plays for witches and wizards, but we do have a few hints. Godric's Hollow, where both Dumbledore and Harry were born and where both their families perished, is a wizard-founded village that appears to be predominantly wizard-populated. Yet we know from the series that there's a little church there. Whether it was built by the wizards or whether it was built by Muggles, in the seventh book it appears to be well-attended. And, since Dumbledore's mother and sister are buried in the church graveyard, the church has probably been there since before Dumbledore's time.
Dumbledore was born in 1881. Had he and his family not attended church, it would have drawn undue attention to them in a time where pretty much everyone attended. So we can probably assume that, whether his family believed or not, they probably went to church to at least keep up the appearance that they were an ordinary, non-magical family.
I've always thought that this is where Dumbledore's knowledge and belief in the power of love and his (eventual) acceptance of death came from. I imagine that in J. K. Rowling's world, the miracles of the Bible would have been viewed as a kind of "magic". Maybe they're even considered Muggle interpretations of encounters with great magicians. (I'm not saying I believe that prophets are a kind of magician! I definitely don't believe that. I'm just explaining how I feel like religion would fit into Harry's reality.)
Either way, we know Dumbledore reads the Bible. He put a Bible verse on his family's graves: "Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (Matthew 6:21) (Remember that he was very young when he would have chosen this verse: another suggestion that he was raised religious.) He also put one on Harry's parents' graves (at least, I assume he arranged their burial since he seems to have been the executor of their estate): "The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." (1 Corinthians 15:26)
Even if everything I've said up to this point is all baloney and the entire series isn't supposed to have Christian undertones until (SPOILERS!) Harry's death, no one can question that his death itself is supposed to be a reference to Christ. I cried and cried the first time I read that scene. Because, yeah, I mean, it's Harry, and who knows how he's going to get out of this one? But also because I suddenly understood how personal Christ's death and Atonement were. I knew how much Harry cared about the people he was dying for...I suddenly understood how much Christ must care about me. I also suddenly understood how Christ's Atonement must work. I could somewhat grasp how a great sacrifice made from love could shake the world and generate enough power, enough "magic" to save other people by proxy.
It goes without saying that the afterlife scene between Dumbledore and Harry is one big fat religious allusion. Also, the scene where Harry comes back after being "resurrected," besides the obvious reference to Christ's Atonement, also helped me to understand sin and repentance. As Harry then points out a few times, Tom Riddle could have put himself back together if he could have felt remorse for what he'd done. However, he was at a point where having a fractured soul was actually less painful than facing what he'd done and trying to make amends.
Now is a good time for me to mention that even though I love the end of the series, I hated the way it was done in the final movie. It was rewritten in such a way that a lot of the religious symbolism was destroyed. That really disappointed me!
Anyway, those are my thoughts. If I missed anything that seems important, or if you want to add to the conversation, feel free to leave a comment.
Monday, July 31, 2017
Friday, July 28, 2017
My Ninth Stitch Fix Experience
It's that time again: the time where I Stitch a Fix!
That sounded much better in my head.
Anywho. When we last left off, my favorite jeans had just met their demise, and so I'd tasked Jessica V with finding me a new pair. Jessica V definitely delivered, but shortly thereafter my other jeans began to wear out, too. So once again I sent to the mythical Stitch Fix warehouse in California and asked them to send me some new jeans. Kind of like an arranged marriage. (Let's be real—if Jessica V could match-make for me as well as she chooses clothes for me, my dating life would probably have more momentum.) I also asked for some short-sleeved tops that didn't have to be layered.
Here's the pretty sight I encountered when I pulled my bundle from the Stitch Fix box:
And here's what Jess-Jess said:
Hi Awkward Mormon Girl!
So far so good.
I hope you are having a great summer now that it's officially here!
When you work a full-time job, my friend, summer is never here.
Thanks for updating your Pinterest board a bit, it was great to see what new styles you are loving. I really liked the capris that you pinned and I was bummed that I didn't have them available to send.
Whoa, whoa. Capris? I really, really dislike capris. Did I pin capris? I hope not. If I did, it must have been a momentary lapse in judgment.
So instead I thought you might like the Just Black jeans in this nice lighter wash. Great for casual weekend wear or wearing to work on Friday. I saw you pinned a cool bell sleeve blouse, the Le Lis blouse will give you a similar look without being to loose. Plus the coral color is so great for summer! This top would go great with your denim skirt that I sent last June.
I do love that skirt.
I thought the Le Lis top was similar to some of the comfy knits that you had posted, you will love wearing this breathable top with the jeans on those warmer weather days. Enjoy! -Jessica V
A simple dash? Sadly, pretty unremarkable and unmockable.
Le Lis Riela Lace Inset Detail Blouse: This blouse looks pink, but it actually came down on just the wrong side of orange for my skin. This is the one that Jessica V said she sent because of the bell-sleeved blouses I pinned, which??? I don't see any bell sleeves here. Plus it was a little frustrating that she'd sent me a blouse with cutouts when I'd specifically asked for short-sleeved shirts that didn't need anything worn beneath them.
Le Lis Alapay Printed Back Knit Top: This one was fun and cute. I've never gotten into the flowy, floral shirt look, but I was willing to give it a try. It perfectly fulfilled the requirements of being short-sleeved and not needing to be layered.
Daniel Rainn Loryn Clip Dot Knit Top: This was definitely my favorite thing in the box! I love this color, and I've been trying to find more clothes in this shade. I think it works really well with my coloring. The fabric was soft, light, and comfortable.
Daniel Rainn Fetra Scoop Neck Blouse: I went back and forth about this shirt. It has shades of coral and orange in it. Orange is one of very few colors I simply do not wear. I don't think it works for me. However, it did meet all my requirements for tops.
Verdict on tops: I didn't want to spoil the ending by telling you which tops I decided to keep. As it turned out, after comparing pricing and deciding that I did want to take a chance on the striped shirt, I determined that the most efficient way to use my money was to buy all five items and get the twenty percent discount. I've worn every item at least twice since then, except for the odd cutout blouse. I'm still trying to decide what to do with that.
Remember, kids, if you want to try Stitch Fix, please use my referral link! (I've actually recommended Stitch Fix to at least one person who didn't use my referral link. They didn't use anyone's referral link, so no one got the benefit of having $25 in referral credit. If you're going to join, you might as well get $25 worth of clothes for a friend or acquaintance.)
Wednesday, July 26, 2017
Felt
Context: Following this post, I decided it might be appropriate to post the content from my creative nonfiction project about Steve Whitmire. I've thought about it a couple times, but before I never thought there would be much interest.
When Steve Whitmire got the box in the mail, he opened it right away. Inside, resting on a bed of Styrofoam peanuts, was Kermit the Frog.
The puppet was the same as the many others that had been made over the years: green felt skin, eleven-point collar, flippers, eyes with elongated pupils, and a flexible head that could be scrunched into almost any expression. The puppet’s mouth was slightly open in a half-smile, half-word. He looked like he was about to announce a guest star on The Muppet Show, sing a song about being green, or say, “Hi, Steve! How are you?”
Steve almost returned the greeting. His characters had played alongside Kermit for so long, it would have been natural for him to say, “Hiya, Kermit,” in the voice of Bean Bunny or Rizzo the Rat. But he stopped himself. As far as Steve was concerned, this wasn’t his old friend Kermit. The frog’s animus, his spirit, his essence—all of that was gone. Kermit had died with his performer, Jim Henson.
It doesn’t have to be that way Steve thought, staring at the Muppet. Jim’s spirit had left his body forever, but Kermit could be resurrected. All it would take was the right Muppeteer.
Steve picked up the famous frog and slipped his hand up into the body. He sat very still for a minute. Then he put the Muppet back in the box and walked away.
“He’s sure to have an e-mail,” my creative writing teacher said, something I had never even considered. Steve Whitmire? Me, e-mailing Steve Whitmire? Well, it was something to think about, for sure.
What would I say?
Dear Steve Whitmire,
My name is Awkward Mormon Girl Obnoxious. You’re probably not aware of it, but we sort of know each other. See, I have this friend named Runner Bean. Runner Bean’s family was on Extreme Home Makeover a few years back, so he knows Ty Pennington. Ty Pennington was on a segment in a Sesame Street Christmas special, in which he interacted with the Count von Count. As you know, the Count’s current puppeteer is Matt Vogel. You perform with Matt Vogel frequently. So we know each other. Sort of. By association. Yup.
Not that.
It took a long time for her to respond. This was due to my cringeworthy technique. When I say “cringeworthy,” I really mean “cringeworthy.” Usually when I pick Joni up, I never get around to performing her because I get wrapped up cringing in anticipation of my poor puppeteering instead. To be fair, I guess it would be easier for me if she were a more expressive Muppet. She isn’t, though; she’s a Whatnot, or a type of basic human puppet used in the background of The Muppet Show. Joni is great-looking: short dark hair, blue skin, orange nose, slanted purple eyes. I designed her myself on F.A.O. Schwartz’s Whatnot-making website, and I’m pretty proud of the way she turned out. However, Whatnots have fat plush heads that can’t easily be wrinkled into different expressions—pretty difficult to use effectively without additional mechanisms in the head. Alas, Joni lacks such mechanisms.
“Ahem,” Joni said. I stopped cringing and went back to performing her. “So?”
“So he’d hired teenage Muppeteers before, but that was when the Muppets were just starting and he was pretty darn young himself. In 1977, the Muppets were doing well for themselves. He could have had his pick of puppeteers, hired someone his own age. But no, he hired this super-naïve teenage boy from Atlanta, Georgia. Why’d he do that, Joni?”
“Super-naïve teenagers do amazing stuff all the time. Remember how you became a famous author when you were a super-naïve teenager? Oh… oh wait, you never did that, did you? My bad.”
“Thanks a lot,” I grouched, glaring at her. With some effort, I arranged her face in a sort of smirk. “I was always planning on it, but…”
“But reality caught up to you,” Joni said, patting my head.
Hastily Steve stepped back. Out stepped Jim Henson.
“Hi!” Steve said brightly. He’d flown to New York the night before with $20 (of which he’d already spent $19), a lightweight coat, and a trunk full of puppets. He had absolutely nothing else to his name, but he’d never been more excited in his life.
Jim stared at him. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m Steve Whitmire.”
Jim stared.
“The puppeteer from Atlanta?” Steve clarified, his heart sinking down to his toes. He was overcome with a sense of panic.
He knows who I am, right? He’s got to; he paid for my airfare and my hotel! But… what if he doesn’t? What if this is all some huge mistake?
Steve highly doubted he would be able to purchase a return ticket with his one dollar. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back to the airport. He knew nothing about New York. Before last night, he’d never been farther away from home than Kentucky.
To his relief, Jim said, “Oh yeah, well, c’mon in.” He led Steve inside, then paused at the top of the stairs.
“You know, we really weren’t expecting you this early.”
Steve looked at his watch. It was eight a.m. That didn’t seem too early, especially considering that he’d gotten up at seven and had put off heading to the studio as long as he possibly could. Sure, he’d only held off for less than an hour, but, still. He’d tried to wait, and every minute he’d been able to delay running straight towards his audition with the Muppets was a small victory.
The panicky feeling returned. “Well, you know, I could leave and come back later,” he said, trying to sound polite but hoping Jim wasn’t going to make him wait any longer. He didn’t know if he had that kind of willpower. Besides, he had no money and no place to go.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
Steve left his trunk of puppets at Henson Associates, trudged to a Woolworth’s on the corner. He spent his last dollar on a cup of coffee and sat there for three hours, waiting.
“Why didn’t I what?”
Joni touched the keys of my laptop. “Can I write something?”
“No. Why didn’t I what?”
“Why didn’t you become a famous author when you were a teenager?”
“Because I never wrote anything good enough to publish.”
“Who told you that you never wrote anything good enough to publish?”
“I did.”
“Well, what did the publishing companies say?”
“They didn’t say anything. I hardly sent out any submissions.”
Joni looked at me reproachfully.
“Listen, Joni, it’s like you said earlier: Reality caught up to me. Eventually I realized I was too young to get published, okay? Adults have a hard enough time getting themselves published, and then once they are published, they hardly ever become famous. A teenager like me doesn’t stand a chance. The only thing I can do with my life right now is go to school and get my creative writing degree.”
“And then you’ll be a famous author?”
“No, then I’ll have to find something else to do with my life after I ultimately fail as a writer,” I snapped.
“Well, you could always be a Muppeteer,” Joni said in a sing-song voice. There was a long pause. “Are you cringing at your technique again?”
I put her away.
After a few days of this, Jim told Steve he was hired. He wasn’t going to work on Sesame Street, though, as Jim had originally led him to believe. No, Jim was hiring Steve to come work on The Muppet Show.
Steve bit his lip and said nothing.
“Your character is guarding Liberace’s door. He doesn’t want to let Kermit in, Steve, and he has to be mean about it.”
“Jim,” the floor manager said softly. “It’s five minutes to eight.” Eight o’clock was when the technicians went home—always. The cast wasn’t allowed to keep them in studio a second longer than that.
Steve stared at the floor, frustrated. This was his first speaking role: easy, short, technically simple. Still, he had screwed up every take. It just wasn’t working.
“Don’t worry,” Jim said to the floor manager. “We’ll be done by then.” His voice was calm, confident. Never mind the fact that he had been working on this brief scene with Steve since seven-thirty, and it still hadn’t come together. Never mind that he could have turned to any one of “the guys”—Frank Oz, Richard Hunt, Jerry Nelson, Dave Goelz—to take over Steve’s part. It didn’t matter who played the guard in front of Liberace’s door. Jerry or Dave or Richard could easily do it in a take or two; Frank would only need one. Despite this, Jim hadn’t asked Steve to pass the puppet over to someone else, and Steve had a feeling he wasn’t going to. Jim wasn’t about to give him the easy way out.
“Let’s do it again, Steve,” Jim said. Steve extended the puppet above his head and waited for the camera to roll.
“No one, really. Rowlf’s hands. Miss Piggy’s dog, Foo-Foo. And Rizzo the Rat.”
“But Rizzo’s an important Muppet!”
“Not back then, he wasn’t. Rizzo was a background character on The Muppet Show—some rat puppet Steve found in storage and would walk in and out of scenes. Jim decided to make Rizzo an exalted extra by giving him lines, but the rat didn’t really take off until he was paired with Gonzo as a narrator in Muppet Christmas Carol.” I shrugged. “He spent his two and a half seasons on The Muppet Show doing all the puppetry work that nobody else wanted to do.”
“Poor kid.”
“Poor kid? No, he loved it.”
“I have Wembley.”
“Sure, but Fraggle Rock ended several years ago.” That was true. Since then, Steve had done many movies and projects as a full-fledged, experienced Muppet performer, but he had no main Muppets. Rizzo was a fun side character and Bean Bunny was a great character originated in The Bunny Picnic. Neither of them, however, was part of the core Muppet cast. “I’m frustrated that you don’t have any main characters. I think we should work toward getting you another major character, maybe something that’s like a sidekick to Kermit.”
“Like Fozzie?”
“Yes, like Fozzie. Fozzie is there, but Frank’s not always available, and it would be nice to have another character that could fill that role sometimes. I can work on that as soon as I get back to New York.”
“Great!” Steve said. It would be good to have a main character.
Then Jim passed away, and his son sent Kermit to Steve in a box.
Creative nonfiction is a genre that I didn't even knew existed before taking this class. It's nonfiction turned into a compelling story. This means that dialogue may be recreated without total accuracy...events may be combined...things that didn't actually happen but could have happened may even be included. ("Based on a true story" movies are, in my opinion, classic examples of creative nonfiction.) The following piece is light on the creativity and heavy on the nonfiction. Dedicated Muppet fans will know where I've taken liberties, but the majority of the Steve side of the story is reconstructed from a Steve Whitmire interview.
When Steve Whitmire got the box in the mail, he opened it right away. Inside, resting on a bed of Styrofoam peanuts, was Kermit the Frog.
The puppet was the same as the many others that had been made over the years: green felt skin, eleven-point collar, flippers, eyes with elongated pupils, and a flexible head that could be scrunched into almost any expression. The puppet’s mouth was slightly open in a half-smile, half-word. He looked like he was about to announce a guest star on The Muppet Show, sing a song about being green, or say, “Hi, Steve! How are you?”
Steve almost returned the greeting. His characters had played alongside Kermit for so long, it would have been natural for him to say, “Hiya, Kermit,” in the voice of Bean Bunny or Rizzo the Rat. But he stopped himself. As far as Steve was concerned, this wasn’t his old friend Kermit. The frog’s animus, his spirit, his essence—all of that was gone. Kermit had died with his performer, Jim Henson.
It doesn’t have to be that way Steve thought, staring at the Muppet. Jim’s spirit had left his body forever, but Kermit could be resurrected. All it would take was the right Muppeteer.
Steve picked up the famous frog and slipped his hand up into the body. He sat very still for a minute. Then he put the Muppet back in the box and walked away.
***
With great nervousness and excitement, I considered interviewing Steve Whitmire. “He’s sure to have an e-mail,” my creative writing teacher said, something I had never even considered. Steve Whitmire? Me, e-mailing Steve Whitmire? Well, it was something to think about, for sure.
What would I say?
Dear Steve Whitmire,
My name is Awkward Mormon Girl Obnoxious. You’re probably not aware of it, but we sort of know each other. See, I have this friend named Runner Bean. Runner Bean’s family was on Extreme Home Makeover a few years back, so he knows Ty Pennington. Ty Pennington was on a segment in a Sesame Street Christmas special, in which he interacted with the Count von Count. As you know, the Count’s current puppeteer is Matt Vogel. You perform with Matt Vogel frequently. So we know each other. Sort of. By association. Yup.
Not that.
***
Steve Whitmire had been a fan of puppeteering since he was just a kid living near Atlanta. At eleven years old, he wrote a letter to Jim Henson. Jim Henson wrote back.
When Steve graduated from high school, he had a yearbook full of scribbled notes jokingly calling him “Kermit” and a first-place prize for puppeteering in the school talent show. He jumped straight into performing a character called Otis the Beach Bum at a local theme park, then cohosted a television program with his best friend Gary. Simply called The Kids’ Show, it was nominated for a state Emmy Award. Clearly, Steve was going places.
He was in the middle of negotiating his own television show when Jim Henson called.
When Steve graduated from high school, he had a yearbook full of scribbled notes jokingly calling him “Kermit” and a first-place prize for puppeteering in the school talent show. He jumped straight into performing a character called Otis the Beach Bum at a local theme park, then cohosted a television program with his best friend Gary. Simply called The Kids’ Show, it was nominated for a state Emmy Award. Clearly, Steve was going places.
He was in the middle of negotiating his own television show when Jim Henson called.
***
“Eighteen and a half, Joni,” I said to my Muppet. “Jim Henson hired Steve Whitmire when Steve was eighteen and a half.” It took a long time for her to respond. This was due to my cringeworthy technique. When I say “cringeworthy,” I really mean “cringeworthy.” Usually when I pick Joni up, I never get around to performing her because I get wrapped up cringing in anticipation of my poor puppeteering instead. To be fair, I guess it would be easier for me if she were a more expressive Muppet. She isn’t, though; she’s a Whatnot, or a type of basic human puppet used in the background of The Muppet Show. Joni is great-looking: short dark hair, blue skin, orange nose, slanted purple eyes. I designed her myself on F.A.O. Schwartz’s Whatnot-making website, and I’m pretty proud of the way she turned out. However, Whatnots have fat plush heads that can’t easily be wrinkled into different expressions—pretty difficult to use effectively without additional mechanisms in the head. Alas, Joni lacks such mechanisms.
“Ahem,” Joni said. I stopped cringing and went back to performing her. “So?”
“So he’d hired teenage Muppeteers before, but that was when the Muppets were just starting and he was pretty darn young himself. In 1977, the Muppets were doing well for themselves. He could have had his pick of puppeteers, hired someone his own age. But no, he hired this super-naïve teenage boy from Atlanta, Georgia. Why’d he do that, Joni?”
“Super-naïve teenagers do amazing stuff all the time. Remember how you became a famous author when you were a super-naïve teenager? Oh… oh wait, you never did that, did you? My bad.”
“Thanks a lot,” I grouched, glaring at her. With some effort, I arranged her face in a sort of smirk. “I was always planning on it, but…”
“But reality caught up to you,” Joni said, patting my head.
***
Steve pressed the buzzer three times before the door opened. Later he learned that the door was the kind of door where you pressed a bell and then someone else buzzed you in, but on the day of his audition at Henson Associates he didn’t know that. So there he was, repeatedly pressing the buzzer, when all of a sudden the door flew open. Hastily Steve stepped back. Out stepped Jim Henson.
“Hi!” Steve said brightly. He’d flown to New York the night before with $20 (of which he’d already spent $19), a lightweight coat, and a trunk full of puppets. He had absolutely nothing else to his name, but he’d never been more excited in his life.
Jim stared at him. “Can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m Steve Whitmire.”
Jim stared.
“The puppeteer from Atlanta?” Steve clarified, his heart sinking down to his toes. He was overcome with a sense of panic.
He knows who I am, right? He’s got to; he paid for my airfare and my hotel! But… what if he doesn’t? What if this is all some huge mistake?
Steve highly doubted he would be able to purchase a return ticket with his one dollar. He wasn’t even sure he could find his way back to the airport. He knew nothing about New York. Before last night, he’d never been farther away from home than Kentucky.
To his relief, Jim said, “Oh yeah, well, c’mon in.” He led Steve inside, then paused at the top of the stairs.
“You know, we really weren’t expecting you this early.”
Steve looked at his watch. It was eight a.m. That didn’t seem too early, especially considering that he’d gotten up at seven and had put off heading to the studio as long as he possibly could. Sure, he’d only held off for less than an hour, but, still. He’d tried to wait, and every minute he’d been able to delay running straight towards his audition with the Muppets was a small victory.
The panicky feeling returned. “Well, you know, I could leave and come back later,” he said, trying to sound polite but hoping Jim wasn’t going to make him wait any longer. He didn’t know if he had that kind of willpower. Besides, he had no money and no place to go.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
Steve left his trunk of puppets at Henson Associates, trudged to a Woolworth’s on the corner. He spent his last dollar on a cup of coffee and sat there for three hours, waiting.
***
“Why didn’t you?” “Why didn’t I what?”
Joni touched the keys of my laptop. “Can I write something?”
“No. Why didn’t I what?”
“Why didn’t you become a famous author when you were a teenager?”
“Because I never wrote anything good enough to publish.”
“Who told you that you never wrote anything good enough to publish?”
“I did.”
“Well, what did the publishing companies say?”
“They didn’t say anything. I hardly sent out any submissions.”
Joni looked at me reproachfully.
“Listen, Joni, it’s like you said earlier: Reality caught up to me. Eventually I realized I was too young to get published, okay? Adults have a hard enough time getting themselves published, and then once they are published, they hardly ever become famous. A teenager like me doesn’t stand a chance. The only thing I can do with my life right now is go to school and get my creative writing degree.”
“And then you’ll be a famous author?”
“No, then I’ll have to find something else to do with my life after I ultimately fail as a writer,” I snapped.
“Well, you could always be a Muppeteer,” Joni said in a sing-song voice. There was a long pause. “Are you cringing at your technique again?”
I put her away.
***
Steve’s audition wasn’t much of an audition. When he returned to the studio at eleven, he and Jim and Frank Oz played around with puppets for a while. Then Jim took Steve around and introduced him to the people at the studio. After a few days of this, Jim told Steve he was hired. He wasn’t going to work on Sesame Street, though, as Jim had originally led him to believe. No, Jim was hiring Steve to come work on The Muppet Show.
***
“You have to be mean to Kermit,” Jim chided Steve. Steve bit his lip and said nothing.
“Your character is guarding Liberace’s door. He doesn’t want to let Kermit in, Steve, and he has to be mean about it.”
“Jim,” the floor manager said softly. “It’s five minutes to eight.” Eight o’clock was when the technicians went home—always. The cast wasn’t allowed to keep them in studio a second longer than that.
Steve stared at the floor, frustrated. This was his first speaking role: easy, short, technically simple. Still, he had screwed up every take. It just wasn’t working.
“Don’t worry,” Jim said to the floor manager. “We’ll be done by then.” His voice was calm, confident. Never mind the fact that he had been working on this brief scene with Steve since seven-thirty, and it still hadn’t come together. Never mind that he could have turned to any one of “the guys”—Frank Oz, Richard Hunt, Jerry Nelson, Dave Goelz—to take over Steve’s part. It didn’t matter who played the guard in front of Liberace’s door. Jerry or Dave or Richard could easily do it in a take or two; Frank would only need one. Despite this, Jim hadn’t asked Steve to pass the puppet over to someone else, and Steve had a feeling he wasn’t going to. Jim wasn’t about to give him the easy way out.
“Let’s do it again, Steve,” Jim said. Steve extended the puppet above his head and waited for the camera to roll.
***
“Who did Steve play on The Muppet Show?” Joni asked me. I’d brought her out again after some wheedling on her part and many, many promises to be good and to not talk about my puppeteering technique. “No one, really. Rowlf’s hands. Miss Piggy’s dog, Foo-Foo. And Rizzo the Rat.”
“But Rizzo’s an important Muppet!”
“Not back then, he wasn’t. Rizzo was a background character on The Muppet Show—some rat puppet Steve found in storage and would walk in and out of scenes. Jim decided to make Rizzo an exalted extra by giving him lines, but the rat didn’t really take off until he was paired with Gonzo as a narrator in Muppet Christmas Carol.” I shrugged. “He spent his two and a half seasons on The Muppet Show doing all the puppetry work that nobody else wanted to do.”
“Poor kid.”
“Poor kid? No, he loved it.”
***
When The Muppet Show ended in 1981, it was because Jim wanted to move on to other things. Specifically, he wanted to create a kids’ show that could lead to world peace. It was called Fraggle Rock.
Of everything that Steve has done as a Muppeteer, I envy him Fraggle Rock the most. Fraggle Rock has sometimes been cited as “the best children’s television show of all time” and, really, I don’t think that can be argued with. Because of the lofty goals Jim had for it, you’d think the show would be boring and overly teachy, but this is not the case. The show is about a group of creatures named Fraggles who sing and dance and have fun all day while learning important life lessons and cracking fantastic jokes. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Each of the five main Fraggles is complex and nuanced, made likable by the puppeteer despite the character’s obvious faults. Steve’s Fraggle was named Wembley, a chronically indecisive but goodhearted little fellow.
“Wembley, give it to me straight. Am I invisible?” Gobo Fraggle asked his best friend.
Steve moved Wembley’s head and scrunched his nose into an expression of genuine scrutiny and consideration. “Uh… well, I don’t think so, but that’s only my opinion.”
The set members choked on their quiet laughter.
“What should I do?” Wembley asked Gobo.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Can you give me a hint?”
“That’s a wrap!” the director called.
“Good job,” Jerry chuckled as he and Steve lowered their puppets.
“Thanks. You too.” Steve carefully pulled Wembley off his hand. As he went to put his puppet away until their next scene, he noticed Jim standing there, watching. When Steve caught his eye, he nodded and gave an approving smile.
I wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Of everything that Steve has done as a Muppeteer, I envy him Fraggle Rock the most. Fraggle Rock has sometimes been cited as “the best children’s television show of all time” and, really, I don’t think that can be argued with. Because of the lofty goals Jim had for it, you’d think the show would be boring and overly teachy, but this is not the case. The show is about a group of creatures named Fraggles who sing and dance and have fun all day while learning important life lessons and cracking fantastic jokes. It doesn’t get much better than that.
Each of the five main Fraggles is complex and nuanced, made likable by the puppeteer despite the character’s obvious faults. Steve’s Fraggle was named Wembley, a chronically indecisive but goodhearted little fellow.
“Wembley, give it to me straight. Am I invisible?” Gobo Fraggle asked his best friend.
Steve moved Wembley’s head and scrunched his nose into an expression of genuine scrutiny and consideration. “Uh… well, I don’t think so, but that’s only my opinion.”
The set members choked on their quiet laughter.
“What should I do?” Wembley asked Gobo.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Can you give me a hint?”
“That’s a wrap!” the director called.
“Good job,” Jerry chuckled as he and Steve lowered their puppets.
“Thanks. You too.” Steve carefully pulled Wembley off his hand. As he went to put his puppet away until their next scene, he noticed Jim standing there, watching. When Steve caught his eye, he nodded and gave an approving smile.
***
Guess what? Steve doesn’t have an e-mail address, at least not one you can find on Google. I discovered this after I tried every single search term I could think of. The closest thing I found was a website explaining that if you want Muppeteers to sign photos of their characters, you have to send the photos care of Sesame Workshop and pray they fall into the right hands. Unless I became a writer for a posh magazine overnight, there was no way I was going to be able to interview Steve Whitmire. I would just have to make do without an interview, and he would just have to remain unaware of my insignificant existence. I wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.
***
“You know, we need to get you a main character,” Jim said over dinner in 1990. “I have Wembley.”
“Sure, but Fraggle Rock ended several years ago.” That was true. Since then, Steve had done many movies and projects as a full-fledged, experienced Muppet performer, but he had no main Muppets. Rizzo was a fun side character and Bean Bunny was a great character originated in The Bunny Picnic. Neither of them, however, was part of the core Muppet cast. “I’m frustrated that you don’t have any main characters. I think we should work toward getting you another major character, maybe something that’s like a sidekick to Kermit.”
“Like Fozzie?”
“Yes, like Fozzie. Fozzie is there, but Frank’s not always available, and it would be nice to have another character that could fill that role sometimes. I can work on that as soon as I get back to New York.”
“Great!” Steve said. It would be good to have a main character.
Then Jim passed away, and his son sent Kermit to Steve in a box.
***
“What about that thing you wrote over the summer? Are you going to send that to a publisher?”
“Eventually. I have to edit it some more first.”
“So when will you be done editing?”
“Over Christmas break. Hopefully. Maybe.”
If Joni’d had an eye-rolling mechanism like Wembley Fraggle’s, it would have been in use then. “Hurry it up. You’re going to want to get that thing published as soon as possible so you can be a famous author.”
“And what’s the hurry, exactly?”
“Well, hey. You’ll still be a teenager until April. There’s still a chance for you to make your lifelong dream happen.”
Joni was silent as I thought about it. “Well,” I said slowly to her, “when you put it that way…” If there was anything I’d learned from Steve’s story, it was that it didn’t matter how young or inexperienced you were as long as you were willing to try.
“I guess I can hurry the revisions a little.”
“Yay!” Joni said. “Also, I would appreciate it if you worked on your puppeteering technique some more. You’re not doing me justice.”
I made a noise of disgust.
“You say that now, but who knows? Maybe if you get good, you’ll get hired by the Muppets, and you can be a famous author.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll become the next performer of Kermit the Frog.”
“Maybe you will,” Joni said, and she wasn’t being sarcastic.
It was a month before Steve could take the puppet out of the box again. Finally, the studio called and asked him if he would record something for them as Kermit. Nothing too stressful, just a little song or something—but even a little song became stressful when Steve considered what they were really asking of him.
“Oh, Jim,” he whispered, “I can’t do this.”
In his head, Jim said, “Of course you can, Steve. Of course you can.”
Steve took a deep breath, then settled the green frog on his hand. He opened the puppet’s mouth. He spoke.
“Hi-ho, everyone. Kermit the Frog here.”
“Eventually. I have to edit it some more first.”
“So when will you be done editing?”
“Over Christmas break. Hopefully. Maybe.”
If Joni’d had an eye-rolling mechanism like Wembley Fraggle’s, it would have been in use then. “Hurry it up. You’re going to want to get that thing published as soon as possible so you can be a famous author.”
“And what’s the hurry, exactly?”
“Well, hey. You’ll still be a teenager until April. There’s still a chance for you to make your lifelong dream happen.”
Joni was silent as I thought about it. “Well,” I said slowly to her, “when you put it that way…” If there was anything I’d learned from Steve’s story, it was that it didn’t matter how young or inexperienced you were as long as you were willing to try.
“I guess I can hurry the revisions a little.”
“Yay!” Joni said. “Also, I would appreciate it if you worked on your puppeteering technique some more. You’re not doing me justice.”
I made a noise of disgust.
“You say that now, but who knows? Maybe if you get good, you’ll get hired by the Muppets, and you can be a famous author.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll become the next performer of Kermit the Frog.”
“Maybe you will,” Joni said, and she wasn’t being sarcastic.
***
Kermit could be resurrected. All it would take was the right Muppeteer, and according to Jim’s wife, his son, and the guys, that Muppeteer was Steve Whitmire. It was a month before Steve could take the puppet out of the box again. Finally, the studio called and asked him if he would record something for them as Kermit. Nothing too stressful, just a little song or something—but even a little song became stressful when Steve considered what they were really asking of him.
“Oh, Jim,” he whispered, “I can’t do this.”
In his head, Jim said, “Of course you can, Steve. Of course you can.”
Steve took a deep breath, then settled the green frog on his hand. He opened the puppet’s mouth. He spoke.
“Hi-ho, everyone. Kermit the Frog here.”
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
Best Twenty-Fourth of July Ever
We just had Utah's second Fourth of July, aka the twenty-fourth of July aka Pioneer Day.
I've actually been thinking about pioneers all month. I'm rereading The Work and the Glory. (For those of you who wouldn't know, this is a book series about a fictional family of early members of the LDS Church. It starts shortly before Joseph Smith begins translating the Golden Plates and ends about 20 years later when they reach the Salt Lake Valley.) The author is no Shakespeare, but overall the books are pretty decent. I find the story to be very faith-building. It digs into some pretty heavy doctrine. It also digs into some "controversial" stuff—which, when you put it into context, really isn't that controversial. (My dad always likes to say that looking back on history and applying your own values is invalid. You can only understand history when you understand the way the people thought at the time that history took place. It doesn't necessarily excuse some things that happen, but it does make you see that it's not fair to judge the people of the past by today's standards.)
Anyway, whether you have pioneer heritage or not, this is still an excellent holiday. It's an opportunity to celebrate heritage, perseverance, and freedom.
On Saturday, Mom and Baby Brother and I stopped by the Hometown carnival for some treats, rides, and the fishing pond. After that, Mom, Little Sister, and I got pedicures, and after that we ate Chinese food, went swimming at my grandma's house, and lit off fireworks in my aunt and uncle's driveway.
For the actual twenty-fourth, I wore a shirt I bought in Nauvoo. Dr. Godfather invited me and my immediate family to his beautiful home on a ridge overlooking a valley. He made us a delicious dinner of chicken, sausage, and rolls alongside one of my mom's fancy salads. I was asked to bring a dessert, so I dipped Oreos in melted chocolate and then acted like I actually did something.
After dinner on Dr. Godfather's deck, we went hot tubbing on his patio. Then we enjoyed dessert (my Oreos plus mint brownies plus brownie bites, lemon bars, and Mexican wedding cookies) while watching fireworks all across the valley from our amazing vantage point.
It was a lovely evening. I often struggle with being "present". It seems like no matter who I'm with or what I'm doing, my mind is always racing ahead to what I need to do next or lagging behind to something else be doing at the moment. It was nice to just relax for a change.
I've actually been thinking about pioneers all month. I'm rereading The Work and the Glory. (For those of you who wouldn't know, this is a book series about a fictional family of early members of the LDS Church. It starts shortly before Joseph Smith begins translating the Golden Plates and ends about 20 years later when they reach the Salt Lake Valley.) The author is no Shakespeare, but overall the books are pretty decent. I find the story to be very faith-building. It digs into some pretty heavy doctrine. It also digs into some "controversial" stuff—which, when you put it into context, really isn't that controversial. (My dad always likes to say that looking back on history and applying your own values is invalid. You can only understand history when you understand the way the people thought at the time that history took place. It doesn't necessarily excuse some things that happen, but it does make you see that it's not fair to judge the people of the past by today's standards.)
Anyway, whether you have pioneer heritage or not, this is still an excellent holiday. It's an opportunity to celebrate heritage, perseverance, and freedom.
On Saturday, Mom and Baby Brother and I stopped by the Hometown carnival for some treats, rides, and the fishing pond. After that, Mom, Little Sister, and I got pedicures, and after that we ate Chinese food, went swimming at my grandma's house, and lit off fireworks in my aunt and uncle's driveway.
For the actual twenty-fourth, I wore a shirt I bought in Nauvoo. Dr. Godfather invited me and my immediate family to his beautiful home on a ridge overlooking a valley. He made us a delicious dinner of chicken, sausage, and rolls alongside one of my mom's fancy salads. I was asked to bring a dessert, so I dipped Oreos in melted chocolate and then acted like I actually did something.
After dinner on Dr. Godfather's deck, we went hot tubbing on his patio. Then we enjoyed dessert (my Oreos plus mint brownies plus brownie bites, lemon bars, and Mexican wedding cookies) while watching fireworks all across the valley from our amazing vantage point.
It was a lovely evening. I often struggle with being "present". It seems like no matter who I'm with or what I'm doing, my mind is always racing ahead to what I need to do next or lagging behind to something else be doing at the moment. It was nice to just relax for a change.
Thursday, July 20, 2017
The Worst Thing
Remember this post?
Remember how I said that Ron Stoppable said "I'm losing everything I ever cared about"?
I'm afraid I have to report that things did not get better.
THEY GOT SO MUCH WORSE.
I'm not going to catalog how things have gotten worse. As everything slips into a downward spiral, I'm trying to be positive and trust that either I'll stop moving downwards or I'll touch the bottom and be able to push off. And some good things have happened, too. I haven't yet seen permanent solutions to any of my problems, but I have been blessed with temporary fixes. There's no doubt who is in charge of my life. I keep getting reminders that Heavenly Father isn't going to let me hit the bottom—or, if He does, there will at least be a cushion at the bottom.
But I do want to talk about THE WORST THING OF ALL which is that Steve Whitmire is no longer performing Kermit the Frog. He is no longer performing with the Muppets.
Guys. Since I found this out last week, I've been devastated. My heart is broken. The first thing I said was, "This really hurts me."
It does, though. It's personal. I've been a Muppet fan my whole life, and Steve is my favorite Muppeteer. I love his performances. I also love his story; I actually wrote about his life for a project in college.
For those of you who don't know the story, when he was growing up Steve was also a Muppet fan...who was discovered by Caroll Spinney as a teenager and then hired by his idol, Jim Henson. For close to 40 years, the Muppets have been this man's life. He worked on pretty much every Jim Henson from The Muppet Show on, and when Jim passed away in 1990, Steve took on the role of Kermit.
Heaven knows I think Steve has done a great job as Kermit, but honestly if he wasn't playing Kermit anymore, I wouldn't care so much as long as he was still playing his other characters, like Bean Bunny and Rizzo the Rat. (And my favorite Muppet of all time, Wembley Fraggle. Wembley is not part of the current Muppet brand, though—more on that later.) I don't however, care about Waldo C. Graphic. I'm pretty sure nobody does.
Anyway, this has bothered me far more than the firing of a man I've never met should. I've never broken up with anyone, but a while back one of my friends and I decided we should stop being around each other for a while. I'd go around town but every place reminded me of that friend because we'd gone so many places together. Everywhere was haunted, or tainted, if you will. That's kind of what this is like. The Kermit the Frog plaque I ordered came in the mail...and reminds me that Steve was fired. I see my Wembley Fraggle doll...and remember that Steve was fired. I'm folding laundry and hang up my Kermit shirt...and oh yeah, Steve was fired!
On Tuesday night, I could not go to sleep. At first it was just general insomnia but after a while it turned into "I can't sleep because Steve was fired and I need some answers right now!
So I was up until around 2:30, looking for answers.
I discovered, much to my shock, that since I'd originally learned of the issue the entire Internet had exploded. Suddenly, there were comments from Disney reps and Jim Henson's kids (??) everywhere!
Before I proceed, I will share with you my biases. Here's how I feel about everyone involved:
Disney: I'm a devoted Disney fan. I've seen a lot of sneering comments about Steve's firing saying that Disney is a heartless company that only cares about money. I couldn't disagree more. Yes, Disney cares about money. But I don't think that's all they care about. The only real contention I have with them is that they've never really been able to figure out how to use the Muppets to their best advantage, which is a shame.
Jim Henson's kids: I don't really care about them...at all.
Steve Whitmire: You know how I feel about him.
Now that that's out of the way, let me tell you my reactions to everyone's comments:
Disney: I find Disney's comments to be rather vague. Some of the things they vaguely mentioned sound like legitimate concerns. Some of the things they vaguely mentioned didn't make much sense to me. For example, that Steve wouldn't accept an understudy. I was always under the impression that Muppets aren't supposed to have understudies. Let me explain...take Sara Bareilles. She's a successful singer-songwriter, right? And right now, she's starring in Waitress on Broadway. Now, if you went to see Sara Bareilles in Waitress and she suddenly got sick and her understudy had to go on, you would be disappointed, right? Especially if the main reason you'd gone to the show was to see Sara Bareilles. But it wouldn't be a travesty. However, if you'd bought a ticket to a Sara Bareilles concert and she suddenly got sick, her manager wouldn't send an understudy on. If the manager did that, it would be a travesty. That's how it's always been with the Muppets. For years, they've been marketed as celebrities, not characters—which is what makes them viable guest stars, such as when the Sesame Street Muppets were guest stars for the MoTab Christmas concert alongside Santino Fontana. There's only one Santino Fontana, and he's always played by Santino Fontana. There's only one Kermit, and he's always played by the performer who currently "owns" the role of Kermit.
Jim Henson's kids: I find the Henson kids' comments to be unnecessarily personal and weirdly timed. It's odd to me that if they had concerns about Steve that they didn't voice them earlier, particularly at the time when Steve was still working for them and not Disney. I also am not sure how much weight their comments should have when, as far as I'm aware, none of them has worked with Steve in years.
Steve Whitmire: For someone who has just lost his job, his passion, his friends, and to all appearances his life's purpose, he seems to be doing well. Whether his firing was actually deserved or not, I feel like he should be angry right now. But he doesn't really seem to be.
So I didn't really find any answers. In fact, I'm more confused than ever, but I can tell you that in spite of how much everything is changing and how depressing it is to be powerless to stop it, the way I feel stays the same. I'm still a devoted Disney fan. I still don't really care about Jim Henson's kids. And I still really love and admire Steve Whitmire's work.
Now, in the interest of positivity, here are some good things that have happened because of this.
The Muppeteer taking over Kermit's role (Matt Vogel) is extremely talented. I don't yet know if he has the chops for the role, but I don't doubt that he'll work very hard.
Initially, I was hoping Steve no longer working with Disney would mean that he would be more available to play Wembley in the supposed upcoming Fraggle Rock movie. Unfortunately, since the Henson kids own Fraggle Rock, I'm guessing they will not be bringing him back. Apparently Kevin Clash, the former performer of Elmo, will now be playing Wembley?! I actually find this news to be kind of disturbing. I don't have anything against Elmo, but I keep having this horrific vision of a Wembley-Elmo and aaaaahhhhh noooooo. Is nothing sacred anymore?! Plus no one could ever play Wembley the way Steve could.
BUT something else that actually is good news...well. When I wrote my college project about Steve Whitmire, my professor was pushing for me to interview him.
And I was like, "Um, this man is impossible to get ahold of! He has no Internet presence! I only know he's a real person and not a conspiracy because I've seen interviews with him on Fraggle Rock bonus discs!"
Here's what I actually ended up writing within the project itself (it was a narrative that mashed up my life with Steve Whitmire's):
However, following Disney's announcement, he started a blog about his work with the Muppets. I found this blog during my answer quest. It was pretty amazing to hear more about his viewpoint in his own words. So, naturally, I decided to subscribe to the blog.
Within a few minutes, I had in my inbox an email that called me by name.
Even though I knew it was just an automatic message Steve Whitmire had typed out when he set up his blog, I couldn't help but squeal a bit inside with excitement!
And even though I still had didn't have the answers I wanted, I finally felt peaceful enough inside to go to sleep.
Remember how I said that Ron Stoppable said "I'm losing everything I ever cared about"?
I'm afraid I have to report that things did not get better.
THEY GOT SO MUCH WORSE.
I'm not going to catalog how things have gotten worse. As everything slips into a downward spiral, I'm trying to be positive and trust that either I'll stop moving downwards or I'll touch the bottom and be able to push off. And some good things have happened, too. I haven't yet seen permanent solutions to any of my problems, but I have been blessed with temporary fixes. There's no doubt who is in charge of my life. I keep getting reminders that Heavenly Father isn't going to let me hit the bottom—or, if He does, there will at least be a cushion at the bottom.
But I do want to talk about THE WORST THING OF ALL which is that Steve Whitmire is no longer performing Kermit the Frog. He is no longer performing with the Muppets.
Guys. Since I found this out last week, I've been devastated. My heart is broken. The first thing I said was, "This really hurts me."
It does, though. It's personal. I've been a Muppet fan my whole life, and Steve is my favorite Muppeteer. I love his performances. I also love his story; I actually wrote about his life for a project in college.
For those of you who don't know the story, when he was growing up Steve was also a Muppet fan...who was discovered by Caroll Spinney as a teenager and then hired by his idol, Jim Henson. For close to 40 years, the Muppets have been this man's life. He worked on pretty much every Jim Henson from The Muppet Show on, and when Jim passed away in 1990, Steve took on the role of Kermit.
Heaven knows I think Steve has done a great job as Kermit, but honestly if he wasn't playing Kermit anymore, I wouldn't care so much as long as he was still playing his other characters, like Bean Bunny and Rizzo the Rat. (And my favorite Muppet of all time, Wembley Fraggle. Wembley is not part of the current Muppet brand, though—more on that later.) I don't however, care about Waldo C. Graphic. I'm pretty sure nobody does.
Anyway, this has bothered me far more than the firing of a man I've never met should. I've never broken up with anyone, but a while back one of my friends and I decided we should stop being around each other for a while. I'd go around town but every place reminded me of that friend because we'd gone so many places together. Everywhere was haunted, or tainted, if you will. That's kind of what this is like. The Kermit the Frog plaque I ordered came in the mail...and reminds me that Steve was fired. I see my Wembley Fraggle doll...and remember that Steve was fired. I'm folding laundry and hang up my Kermit shirt...and oh yeah, Steve was fired!
On Tuesday night, I could not go to sleep. At first it was just general insomnia but after a while it turned into "I can't sleep because Steve was fired and I need some answers right now!
So I was up until around 2:30, looking for answers.
I discovered, much to my shock, that since I'd originally learned of the issue the entire Internet had exploded. Suddenly, there were comments from Disney reps and Jim Henson's kids (??) everywhere!
Before I proceed, I will share with you my biases. Here's how I feel about everyone involved:
Disney: I'm a devoted Disney fan. I've seen a lot of sneering comments about Steve's firing saying that Disney is a heartless company that only cares about money. I couldn't disagree more. Yes, Disney cares about money. But I don't think that's all they care about. The only real contention I have with them is that they've never really been able to figure out how to use the Muppets to their best advantage, which is a shame.
Jim Henson's kids: I don't really care about them...at all.
Steve Whitmire: You know how I feel about him.
Now that that's out of the way, let me tell you my reactions to everyone's comments:
Disney: I find Disney's comments to be rather vague. Some of the things they vaguely mentioned sound like legitimate concerns. Some of the things they vaguely mentioned didn't make much sense to me. For example, that Steve wouldn't accept an understudy. I was always under the impression that Muppets aren't supposed to have understudies. Let me explain...take Sara Bareilles. She's a successful singer-songwriter, right? And right now, she's starring in Waitress on Broadway. Now, if you went to see Sara Bareilles in Waitress and she suddenly got sick and her understudy had to go on, you would be disappointed, right? Especially if the main reason you'd gone to the show was to see Sara Bareilles. But it wouldn't be a travesty. However, if you'd bought a ticket to a Sara Bareilles concert and she suddenly got sick, her manager wouldn't send an understudy on. If the manager did that, it would be a travesty. That's how it's always been with the Muppets. For years, they've been marketed as celebrities, not characters—which is what makes them viable guest stars, such as when the Sesame Street Muppets were guest stars for the MoTab Christmas concert alongside Santino Fontana. There's only one Santino Fontana, and he's always played by Santino Fontana. There's only one Kermit, and he's always played by the performer who currently "owns" the role of Kermit.
Jim Henson's kids: I find the Henson kids' comments to be unnecessarily personal and weirdly timed. It's odd to me that if they had concerns about Steve that they didn't voice them earlier, particularly at the time when Steve was still working for them and not Disney. I also am not sure how much weight their comments should have when, as far as I'm aware, none of them has worked with Steve in years.
Steve Whitmire: For someone who has just lost his job, his passion, his friends, and to all appearances his life's purpose, he seems to be doing well. Whether his firing was actually deserved or not, I feel like he should be angry right now. But he doesn't really seem to be.
So I didn't really find any answers. In fact, I'm more confused than ever, but I can tell you that in spite of how much everything is changing and how depressing it is to be powerless to stop it, the way I feel stays the same. I'm still a devoted Disney fan. I still don't really care about Jim Henson's kids. And I still really love and admire Steve Whitmire's work.
Now, in the interest of positivity, here are some good things that have happened because of this.
The Muppeteer taking over Kermit's role (Matt Vogel) is extremely talented. I don't yet know if he has the chops for the role, but I don't doubt that he'll work very hard.
Initially, I was hoping Steve no longer working with Disney would mean that he would be more available to play Wembley in the supposed upcoming Fraggle Rock movie. Unfortunately, since the Henson kids own Fraggle Rock, I'm guessing they will not be bringing him back. Apparently Kevin Clash, the former performer of Elmo, will now be playing Wembley?! I actually find this news to be kind of disturbing. I don't have anything against Elmo, but I keep having this horrific vision of a Wembley-Elmo and aaaaahhhhh noooooo. Is nothing sacred anymore?! Plus no one could ever play Wembley the way Steve could.
BUT something else that actually is good news...well. When I wrote my college project about Steve Whitmire, my professor was pushing for me to interview him.
And I was like, "Um, this man is impossible to get ahold of! He has no Internet presence! I only know he's a real person and not a conspiracy because I've seen interviews with him on Fraggle Rock bonus discs!"
Here's what I actually ended up writing within the project itself (it was a narrative that mashed up my life with Steve Whitmire's):
Guess what? Steve doesn’t have an e-mail address, at least not one you can find on Google. I discovered this after I tried every single search term I could think of. The closest thing I found was a website explaining that if you want Muppeteers to sign photos of their characters, you have to send the photos care of Sesame Workshop and pray they fall into the right hands. Unless I became a writer for a posh magazine overnight, there was no way I was going to be able to interview Steve Whitmire. I would just have to make do without an interview, and he would just have to remain unaware of my insignificant existence.He doesn't have a Facebook or Twitter, either.
However, following Disney's announcement, he started a blog about his work with the Muppets. I found this blog during my answer quest. It was pretty amazing to hear more about his viewpoint in his own words. So, naturally, I decided to subscribe to the blog.
Within a few minutes, I had in my inbox an email that called me by name.
Even though I knew it was just an automatic message Steve Whitmire had typed out when he set up his blog, I couldn't help but squeal a bit inside with excitement!
And even though I still had didn't have the answers I wanted, I finally felt peaceful enough inside to go to sleep.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
In Which I Sleep in the Back Seat of a Car
You're probably thinking, "Oh my gosh, Awkward Mormon Girl! Why did you have to sleep in the backseat of a car?"
The story goes like this:
-I went to a ward camp out because I'm on my ward's activities committee.
-So many of the people on that ward camp out own dogs.
-My sleeping bag was exposed to some dog allergens.
-When I snuggled down to go to bed, my throat started tightening.
-I'd taken allergy medicine earlier that day, but it didn't seem to be working.
-Luckily, I'd brought my inhaler.
-Unluckily, it turned out to be not my inhaler but only the aero chamber which I attach to the inhaler.
-The camp out was at a national park where there was no reception and whose gates closed at 10 p.m. If I left to grab medicine, I wouldn't be able to get back in.
-Thus Pepper kindly drove me all the way home.
-I used my inhaler and changed my clothes. Instantly I felt better.
-We slept at home. The next morning we drove all the way back so that I could complete my activities committee duties.
-Since the tent was already infected with allergens, I spent the second night in the backseat of Pepper's car.
-It was very comfortable.
-I would do it again.
-The End.
The story goes like this:
-I went to a ward camp out because I'm on my ward's activities committee.
-So many of the people on that ward camp out own dogs.
-My sleeping bag was exposed to some dog allergens.
-When I snuggled down to go to bed, my throat started tightening.
-I'd taken allergy medicine earlier that day, but it didn't seem to be working.
-Luckily, I'd brought my inhaler.
-Unluckily, it turned out to be not my inhaler but only the aero chamber which I attach to the inhaler.
-The camp out was at a national park where there was no reception and whose gates closed at 10 p.m. If I left to grab medicine, I wouldn't be able to get back in.
-Thus Pepper kindly drove me all the way home.
-I used my inhaler and changed my clothes. Instantly I felt better.
-We slept at home. The next morning we drove all the way back so that I could complete my activities committee duties.
-Since the tent was already infected with allergens, I spent the second night in the backseat of Pepper's car.
-It was very comfortable.
-I would do it again.
-The End.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
Escapé
In October, we (Little Sister and I) finally made it to an escape room.
It was everything we'd ever dreamed of and more. So we did it again. And again!
I find escape rooms to be delightful and novel things. Someone essentially turned my penchant for collecting random knowledge and my desire to be a super sleuth into a social, interactive, team-building activity. Is this what sports are like for other people? Is this why some people like playing sports?
I'll tell you all about my experiences!
The first escape room we did was an escape room in a mob boss's office. We were accompanied by Mr. Little Sister, Rosebud and Mr. Rosebud, and some other friends. Little Sister and I quickly realized that this really was just like a real-life Nancy Drew game. We spouted the same kind of crazy theories, picked up objects and examined them over and over, and worked on solving different puzzles in fits and starts. We could even get hints from the moderator lady when we were stuck. The group actually worked really well together. Everyone pulled their weight, and we found the mob boss's gold and got out with several minutes to spare.
The second escape room we did was a zombie escape room for Little Sister's birthday. This time, it was me, Little Sister and Mr. Little Sister, Baby Sister, Rosebud and Mr. Rosebud, Little Sister's mother- and sisters-in-law, and Little Sister's sister-in-law's boyfriend.
Before we did this escape room, we'd heard that there was an actor playing a zombie chained in a corner and that his chain got longer as the time ticked away. Um. NO. That's not what it was like at ALL. The zombie was chained, but he was only in the corner for five minutes. Then he came out of the corner as far as his chain would let him (which was actually, like seven or eight feet), so by the end of the time we spent in the room, he could literally reach every corner. Did I mention that if he touched you, you had to be quarantined? Also, there were nine of us, and we spent legitimately about ten minutes cowering in one corner of the room, trying to stay away from the zombie. In this particular escape room, the moderator was actually in the room with us, which was strange and also very inconvenient as we tried to run around the room without getting touched by the zombie.
For me, the physical stimulation was a little too much, and I found it hard to stay away from the zombie and work on the clues. By the end, the zombie was actually climbing on the furniture, and we made it out with only a few minutes to spare.
The third escape room was definitely my favorite. It was...drum roll please...a Harry Potter escape room!
The Utah siblings (including Mr. Little Sister) wanted to do an escape room together before Baby Sister headed off on the mish. Little Sister and I determined that, if all possible, we would find a Harry Potter-themed one.
Well, it was all possible, because we did. We drove for about forty-five minutes to a new escape room facility so that we could enjoy a Horcrux-themed escape room. The idea? Find all six of Voldemort's Horcruxes to get the door to unlock.
Before she locked us in, the lady said something like, "You can do this escape room without knowing anything about Harry Potter."
She was right. You could do the room without knowing anything about Harry Potter...IF YOU WANTED TO FAIL.
Because sure, you could probably figure out most things using logic, but it really really helped to have an intimate knowledge of all seven books.
For example, a portion of the escape room used a riddle from the Triwizard tournament. It's a pretty hard riddle, and I was glad we didn't have to actually solve it by using actual thinking. That same portion also included Snape's potion riddle guarding the sorcerer's stone in the first book. Little Sister called me over to help her solve it. Now, that scene is not included in the movie, probably because it literally consists of Hermione pacing and muttering, clapping her hands and pointing, and telling Harry what to do. There's not a lot of action. And I'll be honest, I don't completely understand how the riddle works, because without visuals of the potions I have a hard time picturing what's going on. So while Little Sister was trying to work through it logically, I was just like, "Dude, I don't know. I've never understood this part. But I can tell you right now which bottles Hermione selects after she's done pacing and muttering." It turns out that I was 100% correct. It also turns out that Little Sister (with minimal help from me) was able to reach those same answers by working through the riddle. There's the Ravenclaw for you. (Although the riddle did make more sense to me when I could actually see the potions.)
It just so happened that with there being six of us, each of us got to recover one Horcrux. Later, we said that the Horcrux you ended up with determined which character you were. Baby Brother got the diary (Harry; coincidentally also the first Horcrux we found), Mr. Little Sister got the ring (Dumbledore), Baby Sister got the diadem (Crabbe), Little Sister got the locket (Ron), I got the snake (Neville), and Little Brother got the cup (Hermione). (Baby Sister was not very happy when we worked all this out.)
The best and nerdiest part of the experience, though, was when a wand dropped out of a wall (yup, not even lying, but I'm not going to explain) and we were trying to use it to figure out how to open a door in another wall. I had a thought that maybe I should try casting a spell on it. But then I was like, "Do you know how hopelessly nerdy of Harry Potter fan you're going to look like if you try to cast a spell on that wall and nothing happens?"
With some encouragement, though, I waved the wand and said, "Alohomora."
A door clicked open, and everyone made audible noises of awe and excitement.
Did I mention that I really enjoy escape rooms?
It was everything we'd ever dreamed of and more. So we did it again. And again!
I find escape rooms to be delightful and novel things. Someone essentially turned my penchant for collecting random knowledge and my desire to be a super sleuth into a social, interactive, team-building activity. Is this what sports are like for other people? Is this why some people like playing sports?
I'll tell you all about my experiences!
The first escape room we did was an escape room in a mob boss's office. We were accompanied by Mr. Little Sister, Rosebud and Mr. Rosebud, and some other friends. Little Sister and I quickly realized that this really was just like a real-life Nancy Drew game. We spouted the same kind of crazy theories, picked up objects and examined them over and over, and worked on solving different puzzles in fits and starts. We could even get hints from the moderator lady when we were stuck. The group actually worked really well together. Everyone pulled their weight, and we found the mob boss's gold and got out with several minutes to spare.
The second escape room we did was a zombie escape room for Little Sister's birthday. This time, it was me, Little Sister and Mr. Little Sister, Baby Sister, Rosebud and Mr. Rosebud, Little Sister's mother- and sisters-in-law, and Little Sister's sister-in-law's boyfriend.
Before we did this escape room, we'd heard that there was an actor playing a zombie chained in a corner and that his chain got longer as the time ticked away. Um. NO. That's not what it was like at ALL. The zombie was chained, but he was only in the corner for five minutes. Then he came out of the corner as far as his chain would let him (which was actually, like seven or eight feet), so by the end of the time we spent in the room, he could literally reach every corner. Did I mention that if he touched you, you had to be quarantined? Also, there were nine of us, and we spent legitimately about ten minutes cowering in one corner of the room, trying to stay away from the zombie. In this particular escape room, the moderator was actually in the room with us, which was strange and also very inconvenient as we tried to run around the room without getting touched by the zombie.
For me, the physical stimulation was a little too much, and I found it hard to stay away from the zombie and work on the clues. By the end, the zombie was actually climbing on the furniture, and we made it out with only a few minutes to spare.
The third escape room was definitely my favorite. It was...drum roll please...a Harry Potter escape room!
The Utah siblings (including Mr. Little Sister) wanted to do an escape room together before Baby Sister headed off on the mish. Little Sister and I determined that, if all possible, we would find a Harry Potter-themed one.
Well, it was all possible, because we did. We drove for about forty-five minutes to a new escape room facility so that we could enjoy a Horcrux-themed escape room. The idea? Find all six of Voldemort's Horcruxes to get the door to unlock.
Before she locked us in, the lady said something like, "You can do this escape room without knowing anything about Harry Potter."
She was right. You could do the room without knowing anything about Harry Potter...IF YOU WANTED TO FAIL.
Because sure, you could probably figure out most things using logic, but it really really helped to have an intimate knowledge of all seven books.
For example, a portion of the escape room used a riddle from the Triwizard tournament. It's a pretty hard riddle, and I was glad we didn't have to actually solve it by using actual thinking. That same portion also included Snape's potion riddle guarding the sorcerer's stone in the first book. Little Sister called me over to help her solve it. Now, that scene is not included in the movie, probably because it literally consists of Hermione pacing and muttering, clapping her hands and pointing, and telling Harry what to do. There's not a lot of action. And I'll be honest, I don't completely understand how the riddle works, because without visuals of the potions I have a hard time picturing what's going on. So while Little Sister was trying to work through it logically, I was just like, "Dude, I don't know. I've never understood this part. But I can tell you right now which bottles Hermione selects after she's done pacing and muttering." It turns out that I was 100% correct. It also turns out that Little Sister (with minimal help from me) was able to reach those same answers by working through the riddle. There's the Ravenclaw for you. (Although the riddle did make more sense to me when I could actually see the potions.)
It just so happened that with there being six of us, each of us got to recover one Horcrux. Later, we said that the Horcrux you ended up with determined which character you were. Baby Brother got the diary (Harry; coincidentally also the first Horcrux we found), Mr. Little Sister got the ring (Dumbledore), Baby Sister got the diadem (Crabbe), Little Sister got the locket (Ron), I got the snake (Neville), and Little Brother got the cup (Hermione). (Baby Sister was not very happy when we worked all this out.)
The best and nerdiest part of the experience, though, was when a wand dropped out of a wall (yup, not even lying, but I'm not going to explain) and we were trying to use it to figure out how to open a door in another wall. I had a thought that maybe I should try casting a spell on it. But then I was like, "Do you know how hopelessly nerdy of Harry Potter fan you're going to look like if you try to cast a spell on that wall and nothing happens?"
With some encouragement, though, I waved the wand and said, "Alohomora."
A door clicked open, and everyone made audible noises of awe and excitement.
Did I mention that I really enjoy escape rooms?
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
Naomi's Fight for Life
Naomi the pansy is actually doing pretty well, considering that it's mid-July and super hot!
Here's a picture of her (from just a few weeks ago).
You'll notice that she's the hunchback of pansies. This is the result of a mid-May snow that really weighed down her stalks. She hasn't fully recovered her growth since that tragic accident. Yet she's still budding. She's still growing!
Here's a picture of her (from just a few weeks ago).
 |
| I had to take her to my parents' for a few days during my ward camp out. Of course, I had to strap her in! |
Thursday, July 6, 2017
Freedom
Just this week, we celebrated freedom here in the good old U.S. of A.
The freedom that I've been thinking about is not a freedom from the Declaration of Independence. It's not granted in the Constitution, either. It's a freedom that can't be taken away by any government or any outside force, and it's the only thing that allows us to use our other freedoms to their full capacities.
What is this freedom? Well, to paraphrase Viktor Frankl, the last human freedom is "to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances."
This sounds like positive thinking fluff until you remember that Viktor Frankl was a Holocaust survivor.
I looked through my journals from three, four years ago. I was facing tough challenges then, some even harder than what I face today. Yet in almost every entry, I praised God and said things like, "Things are going to work out!"
Today, a lot of my journal entries say things like, "Why aren't things working out? Why are things so hard?"
I know it sounds cheesy to say so, but attitude really does make a difference. I've been trying to build myself back up to the yappy-happy person I was when I started this blog.
It's just not working and it's so hard.
HA HA HA. Okay, I'm done. But also, because I'm curious to hear from all you people who I know read my blog but don't comment—what do you do when the going gets hard? How do you keep yourselves from getting discouraged?
The freedom that I've been thinking about is not a freedom from the Declaration of Independence. It's not granted in the Constitution, either. It's a freedom that can't be taken away by any government or any outside force, and it's the only thing that allows us to use our other freedoms to their full capacities.
What is this freedom? Well, to paraphrase Viktor Frankl, the last human freedom is "to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances."
This sounds like positive thinking fluff until you remember that Viktor Frankl was a Holocaust survivor.
I looked through my journals from three, four years ago. I was facing tough challenges then, some even harder than what I face today. Yet in almost every entry, I praised God and said things like, "Things are going to work out!"
Today, a lot of my journal entries say things like, "Why aren't things working out? Why are things so hard?"
I know it sounds cheesy to say so, but attitude really does make a difference. I've been trying to build myself back up to the yappy-happy person I was when I started this blog.
It's just not working and it's so hard.
HA HA HA. Okay, I'm done. But also, because I'm curious to hear from all you people who I know read my blog but don't comment—what do you do when the going gets hard? How do you keep yourselves from getting discouraged?
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