Thursday, November 10, 2005
Little mouse on the prairie
Dear Marc, what was your favorite show growing up? In Sweden we didn’t get to see the Brady Bunch, Gilligan’s Island or even the Mary Tyler Moore show, which I’ve come to understand has made an impressive impact on Americans my age and yours. But we did get Little House on the Prairie.
Not too long ago, I was apartment hunting and entered a nice enough flat. But there was something weird about the place. The person living there had put up framed pictures of her friends on the walls. Nothing wrong with that, only that the framed friends were our friends too – it was the Friends cast. I think that is an odd thing to do. Almost kooky. But then I think about my own relationship to Little House and suddenly the kook seemed almost normal.
In my own life, I have never been as embarrassed as I was the time Laura had put apples under her blouse for a 19th century style breast augmentation. Do you remember that? Do you also remember the apples falling down in front of the entire class? Devastating. I still blush just thinking about it. I cried when Mary went blind. Hell, I cried every episode, it was like ER for 10 year olds, we didn’t have a chance.
Little House also set the standards for my love life. For years I fell in love with men of the Charles Ingalls caliber – dark, curly hair, great smile and a handyman approach to life. If they were wearing suspenders, all I could do was surrender. I may be telling you too much when I admit that I made my early loves call me half-pint. I know this doesn’t make sense, since Laura is the daughter and Charles the dad. So what? Don’t get Freudian on me now, I’m such an easy target.
What I wanted to say is that I just bought a dress reminding me about all the things I liked growing up: Little House on the Prairie, Anne Frank, Daddy Long Legs and even Grease (the 50's cut)– you packed it all into a dress, you genius you. From the catwalk to my kitchen - here’s a salute to you for being such a genius.
Love from your very own