And your little dog too

So The Wizard of Oz is 80 years old and to mark the occasion it will be performed live on stage this weekend?
Well, you won’t find me there.
It’s not that I dislike The Wizard of Oz. It’s that I am afraid of it.
When I was little in the 1950s, The Wizard of Oz would come to TV every several years and it seemed the whole nation stopped to watch. I know my family did. They made a big, big deal out of it, typically with the whole bunch of us gathering at my grandmother’s house to watch together.
I’d sit there without saying a word, but I’d be scared to death.
It was those flying monkeys.
Creatures with wings should not be bigger than I and have teeth and arms and hands. My God, they would rip the Scarecrow to shreds. “Did you see that?!” I wanted to scream. “Did you see what they did?! Am I the only one terrified?!”
Apparently I was.
It’s 60 years later and the thought of it still gives me the shivers.
So, no, I will not be celebrating the anniversary.
The Wizard of Oz is listed as the sixth greatest movie of all time by the American Film Institute, right after Lawrence of Arabia and right after The Graduate. But it’s not on my list.
Although I must say I liked the play Wicked. Green babies rule.

Ed Ackerman