Bambi...Flicka...Why Do You Hurt Me So?

When I was about 7, my dad took me to the Saenger Theatre in Biloxi to see "Bambi."

I remember being there with him...walking through the plush lobby of the old theatre and into the grand hall with its gilded, ornate stage.

But mostly I remember being devastated by the sadness of the film. Even Dad...all these years later...recalls clearly that I cried and cried and cried.

I've never watched "Bambi" again.

As a matter of fact, I'm reluctant even today to watch any sad movie...or movie with a strong element of sadness.

"Bambi" pretty much ruined me.

So, when my friend, Jon, called me this Saturday to see if I wanted to catch the Sunday matinee of "Flicka," I hesitated.

"Don't you want to embrace the 12-year-old little girl inside you?" Jon asked.

I laughed quietly to myself. As much I know that Jon loves connecting with the 12-year-old girl inside himself (he's a huge fan of Hello Kitty AND Hillary Duff)...I didn't want to burst his bubble and explain that very few women ever want to revisit those awkward 'tween years.

"Um..." I stammered, "I'll go...but only to spend time with you...not to see 'Flicka.'"

"I think you'll like it," he said.

"I doubt it...I hate Maria Bello...and I'm not a 'horse movie' fan."

"Well, I'm going to pay your way then."

I perked up a little.

"Great."

The next day we met at the theatre, bought our snacks, and settled into our seats. I scanned the audience. Jon and I were definitely the geriatric members of the group...even compared to many of the parents.

I rolled my eyes as the lights dimmed and "Flicka" galloped onto the screen.

I have to admit...the movie was great.

Tim McGraw, who played the dad, was as wooden as a cigar Indian, but the cinematography was breathtaking, Maria Bello (the mother) was charming, and young Alison Lohman (Katy McLaughlin) shone. (I also highly recommend "Matchstick Men," another Lohman movie...and a great one at that.)

But it didn't take long before the inevitable happened..."Flicka" turned into "Bambi" and I was that 7-year-old crying mess of a girl again.

I knew the story would end happy...but I couldn't help myself.

I tried not to make eye contact with Jon (who was smirking like crazy in the next seat). When I finally did compose myself enough to look over, he smiled and whispered, "Do you like it?"

"I hate you."

He laughed. "You like it."

"I may like it...but I hate you."

He laughed again.

The movie was great. Y'all go see it.

But don't expect me to be first in line for the next sad sack movie that comes along...I just can't choose to go to them.

As you can tell...life in general gets me worked up enough. I don't need any help.

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