What a Princess Wants...

Christmas has once again come and gone. Presents exchanged, gifts opened and love received. Santa didn’t bring me the Millennium Falcon this year, but was generous enough to fill my Doctor Who and Muppet Show requests. I know it’s all “PC” and stuff to be grateful for what you have but it’s in our nature to always want a little bit more. Wishes can sometimes be extravagant, like a gold bedspread or a Star Wars toy, or they can be simple, like requests for world peace, universal harmony and an unclogged toilet drain. For many of us, wishes are dreams that help get us through the day, filling our thoughts with flights of fantasy and hope. For others, wishes are just wants of something to have. A desire to simply possess what has yet to be acquired. Like a princess in her castle, looking for another prince that’s a little better than the current model or just desiring a extra diamond on her ring.

Caroline Kennedy grew up in the public eye as the Princess of Camelot. A slideshow posted on Huffington Post shows Caroline evolving from a little girl playing with her puppy to a bubblegum-blowing graduate to an urban socialite. In every image, Ms. Kennedy is very much a princess, echoing back to a time which was never as innocent as the country thought. Like ancient fairy tales, we believe in princesses because we always have. They exist in all mythologies and into the present day. Princesses exist because we want them to.


The interesting thing about princesses is they tend to be perceived better as an image. Beauty, perpetual style, grace and composure makes for a great magazine cover. Glossy photos, a perfect smile and elegance which could steal the desire of any man. However, pictures are just pictures and interviews are just calculated PR. There is only imagination, no reality. Thoughts are enough for many people, which is why those moronic magazines continue to fly off shelves week after week. If a copy of US Weekly or OK! is in your bathroom – THIS IS YOU.

Every man at some time in their life wants to marry a princess. If they say they don’t/didn't, they’re either full of it or gay. Come on, nobody fantasizes about marrying a dirtbag, despite continual occurrences of this relationship. As a confessed dater of both and the potential father of another, my “inner Linus” definitely prefers the princess. For those of you who are not familiar with real, live princesses, I’ll share what knowledge I have of this curious species and hope it provides insight into the intentions of Ms. Kennedy.

Princesses are smart, so smart in fact that many tend to hide their full intelligence, preferring to utilize it when it is most applicable. The can fix a broken toilet, they just don’t want to. Trust me, if they have a Master’s Degree, they understand the basics of household plumbing. Princesses are graceful, dancing not only with movement but also with words. Kind phrases go a long way with a great smile and flashing eyelashes. They understand the subtleness and warmth of a delicate kiss. Relishing being the center of attention with an attitude of a playful kitten, once they have your eye it’s on to the next prize. It is important to note even kittens have claws.

Princesses are an ambitious bunch. Whether the goal is love, a promotion or finding assistance with the plumbing, they always seem to be planning ahead. Princesses are rarely, if ever, hermits. To hang with a princess one has to endure social engagements with the fortitude of a marathon runner. There’s always more and there will be even more after that. A princess rarely retires to a place of contemplation other than their room, which tends to have a mystery to it like a locked jewelry box. If you’re looking to spend your later years in the Shire or in a cave like Obi-Wan, they will never come. There is always a new challenge, a new prize to place in the jewelry box. Once they have their prize, a princess always finds another to attain. They just can't quite get satisfaction.


By announcing her intention to seek the New York Senate appointment, Ms. Kennedy has forced to public to reexamine the idealized image it has had of her for four decades. Is she really the daughter of Camelot, wanting only to continue the legacy of her family? Or is she just an opportunist who desires the Senate appointment merely because it is something she does not have? Maybe, like many princesses, she’s become bored with being a socialite. Kennedy’s blundering PR tour across New York certainly suggests one of the latter reasons. Her interviews are evasive and vague at best, implying an inner surprise that a princess such as herself would be subjected to such menial vetting. The New York Times reported Kennedy cut off an interviewer on Saturday. Not quite the stuff of political savvy but perfect behavior for a princess who thinks she is entitled to what is hers by right and not merit.

I didn’t receive my Senate appointment for Christmas. I didn’t expect to but thought Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevich might consider it if he woke up one day in a giggly mood. I guess I just wasn’t rich enough, influential enough, manipulative enough or cute enough for the job. I didn’t fit the Caroline Kennedy type, although my record collection is way cooler than hers. Other than the aforementioned qualities, I think our resumes with respect to a U.S. Senate seat are pretty much the same.

Caroline Kennedy’s ambition is taking its toll on her long-crafted image. She no longer looks graceful, but cautious. Her smile is weathered and composure cracked. If this is the fate of Camelot’s Princess, it is a sad one indeed. No one wants to watch a princess fall. Although I’ve been critical of princesses in this piece, I never stated I did not love them. To have the affections of a princess, even for a short time, is like watching a blooming flower rising from the morning sun or holding a Grecian urn and pondering its true meaning. The experience stays with you, becomes the stuff of dreams, cursing you with joy. It would be a shame to have those thoughts shattered like priceless porcelain on a concrete floor.

All I Want For Christmas Is...(Part Three)

“We are spirits in the material world” – The Police
“Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz” – Janis Joplin
“All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth” – Spike Jones
“Gimme Gimme Gimme” – ABBA

Everybody wants something – it’s just human nature. Even Gandhi wanted a robe. With the economy at the mercy of the Incredible Hulk in an extra-poopy mood and Mr. Burns taking over the body of a real, live old guy (Bernard Madoff), it’s hard to ask for that one special present when so many may go without. However, most of us will be getting something and I don’t think it’s too out of line for those of us who are going to get gifts to have the gumption to request something we really want. Not any of that “world peace”, “universal harmony” or “stop polluting mother earth” jargon – I’m talking about stuff. Tangible, yummy, feel good about yourself stuff. As we get older, we tend to ask for less and get that indispensable gift which looks perfect next to the Chia-Pet at next summer’s garage sale. It isn’t the gift-giver’s fault that they gave you a George Foreman Grill, a Ginsu Knife set or a DVD of the worst movie of the year (“The Love Guru” – it’s what I always wanted!). The fault lies solely with our humility. If we do not ask, we are doomed to receive what our family and friends think we want. Geez, have we forgotten what it’s like to be a kid at Christmas?

It’s time to channel that “inner Linus” again and remember what Christmas was all about. Who doesn’t remember the arrival of the J.C. Penny Christmas Catalog and the Sears Wishbook in the mailbox? These sacred documents contained everything you could possibly desire, accompanied by full color pictures showcasing material enlightenment. I would peruse these catalogs endlessly, folding pages and marking toys that would make my Christmas day. Obviously, many expectations were unrealistic. Nobody really expects to get a Lionel train, a track-racing set, TOPPS baseball cards and a Nintendo. But it was a wonderful feeling to dream of the possibility. Santa would usually make some of our dreams come true – with a little help from Mom and Dad.

Somewhere in the process of growing up, many of us lost this fantasy, preferring to receive monetary gifts to spend as we please. For two decades, I subscribed to this philosophy. I liked money (who doesn’t) and enjoyed getting the opportunity to buy things myself. However, as time went by, I realized I had lost something. I no longer had the feeling that my family knew me well enough to give me anything besides the cash I’d been requesting since I was 12. I forgot how great the feeling was of someone knowing you well enough that they could get you a cool gift without incessant prodding. Instead, I began an annual holiday purchase known as “the Christmas gift to myself.” After all, at least I knew what I wanted. Last year, my gift was “the Von Erich Family Board Game”, which combined the excitement of pro-wrestling with a cribbage board. Sound fun? Hey, at least it looks good on display. Don’t get all “distorting the vision of Linus” on me, I know many of you do this too. I decided to suspend my “Christmas gift to myself” this year with hope someone will actually find it in their hearts to tell dear old Santa what good little Adam wants for Christmas. That said, I’ve made my list and checked it twice. I know I’m a little bit naughty, but I hope I’ve been a little bit nice. Family, the choice is yours.

Muppet memorabilia made before Jim Henson’s death. I’m a huge fan of the “Muppet Show.” One of my fondest childhood memories was being taken to an exhibit of the Muppets by my aunt. I must have been five or so at the time but I still remember being in awe of the world Jim Henson created. I’d like anything from glasses to actual muppets. I have a copy of the “Muppet Show” board game. Other than that, my collection is pretty empty. I had a colorform set once, but it’s long since gone. There was plenty of Muppet product in the 1970’s and any relic of this magic time would be a joy. Beware, the EBay listings are longer than this year’s housing foreclosures.

Literary plates/etchings. When I was going to college in St. Cloud, a bookstore in town had an 80-year old book of Dante’s Inferno with illustrated plates. I didn’t have the money to buy it then (20 bucks!) and regret it still. I also would like a nice, old copy of William Blake’s “Songs of Innocence and Experience” with full depictions of Blake’s plates that accompanied the poems. The older, the better.

A stuffed “Bill the Cat”. Made about twenty years ago with a disclaimer that Bill would fall apart if touched. I’ve always been a big “Bloom County” fan and a stuffed “Bill” would complete my collection. If I get it, I’ll put Bill on top of the Christmas tree instead of the star. Seriously, I promise.

A U.S. Senate Seat. I know this is reaching, but a guy’s gotta dream. An action figure of “The Stay-Puft Marshmellow Man” would be a good substitute.

The Millennium Falcon. This is the one item I would have bought for myself, but I refuse to purchase it. I’ve wanted a Millennium Falcon for 28 years now but Santa passes me by. Everyone has that one present they never received. Be it an Easy Bake Oven, a Malibu Barbie or an Exorcist Elmo, there is one gift for everyone that has yet to be received. Without doubt or exception, this is mine. My parents tried very hard to get me a Falcon when I was young. In 1980, it was all I asked for, but it was the hottest toy in the world. In a time before Amazon and EBay, parents had to find a toy at a store in order to buy it for their children. My parents assumed they didn’t need to order from a catalog, which was usually used for specialty items like the aforementioned baseball cards and train sets. As Christmas came closer, they couldn’t find a Millennium Falcon at any local store. The fastest ship in the galaxy was a hot item and the most desirable toy in the “Star Wars” universe. Money wasn’t an issue, but locating the Falcon was. My parents left one night in pursuit of it, only to come home from several suburban toy stores tired and discouraged. Being good parents, they broke the news to me that Han Solo’s ship was nowhere to be found. But they had every intention of making their little boy happy on Christmas. Under the tree, there was a gigantic, rectangular box. When it came time, I unwrapped it with anticipation. It had to be something from “Star Wars.” They were they only toys I wanted. What could it be? An AT-AT? An X-Wing Fighter? A Wompa? I tore apart the wrapping paper like a carnivore, my heart beating and mind flashing maybe – just maybe – there was a Millennium Falcon. As the paper was torn apart, I saw a gigantic “Star Wars” logo. As the wrapping was removed, I held in my hands the coveted “Rebel Transport” ship.

What? What is this? It’s big but it looks like a giant torpedo. The obviously expensive toy in my hands made me cold. This wasn’t what I wanted and I was pretty sure I didn’t ask for it. The “Rebel Transport?” The ship the rebel alliance used to flee Darth Vader on the planet Hoth, it didn’t exactly inspire imaginative play. Let’s create one of the saddest scenes in “Empire!” You, too can flee the evil empire with your rag-tag group of action figures that don’t figure into the plot. Luke and R2? They took off to Dagobah to find Yoda. Han, Leia, Chewie and C3PO? They were on the Millennium Falcon. Not much left to play with. Just an over-expensive case for action figures. I knew my parents had the best of loving intentions with their gift and I played with it the best I could. One day later, my sole enjoyment from the Rebel Transport was miraculously being able to put the front and back panels back together. Fly, white turd, fly! If only it was that enjoyable.

Decades later, Hasbro has released several commemorative “Star Wars” toys. Last year, I bought my son, Shane a TIE-Fighter with detachable wings. Similar to the classic 80’s toy down to the inability to open the cockpit without breaking it, Shane and I had hours of fun staging battles. Surprisingly, it’s still intact and ready for another fight. In 2008, Hasbro released their most ambitious “retro” toy: you guessed it – a Millennium Falcon! Not just a replica of the classic toy nor a copy of the Falcon released just three years ago, this Millennium Falcon has everything! It talks, it lights up and even includes Han and Chewie! What more could a boy ask for?

A comparison: the Millennium Falcon in action:

The Rebel Transport on its final voyage:

I realize the Millennium Falcon is expensive, selling for as much as $160 at Toys R’ Us and as low as $100 on Amazon. Unlike the 1980’s, however, this time it is readily available. A casualty of our shaky economy, many stores such as Wal-Mart and Target ordered many of these toys in anticipation of another blockbuster-shopping season. Sadly, many Falcons remain in stores, indicative of the lack of the “Generation X” market willing to spend on itself. It’s possible the toy will reach as low as $80 before year’s end, reminiscent of the endless SUV’s discounted at car dealerships. Maybe someone will find it in their heart to rescue the Falcon from its department store prison and deliver it safely to the rebel base at the Adam Koeppe household. I promise that it will be removed from its protective box and played with by loving, enthusiastic children young and old. Help me, Santa. You’re my only hope.

Santa?

Santa, can you hear me?