Wednesday, October 17, 2007

The first guy I slept with

So yesterday I was just a little black rain cloud.

Then I arrive in the office.

“This is BRILLIANT,” says the very first e-mail I open.

It was in response to a small bit of e-mail fluff I wrote targeting a specific group of people already in our database.

Brilliant, Hedy?

Um, no. That was a bit of hyperbole on the part of my co-worker. Of course I’m no Al Gore Nobel Prize winner or anything.

But it made me feel good. It said shaddap to the small part of me that suspects I’m a sham.

That’s the bounce.

Us Pooh types can be feeling rather down and all it takes is a p-p-p-Piglet to stop by and say one nice thing to lift us right back up again.
Extra HedyBlog bonus points if you got the ‘little black rain cloud’ reference from yesterday.
Confession: I’ve had a life long love affair with that silly old bear.

Back in the early seventies, there was a large fake tree in the children’s clothing section of the Sears at Lakeside Mall. It ran from the floor all the way up to the tiled ceiling. It had large fake branches with little fake leaves. And it had a tree house that was not fake. Not fake at all. Maybe you remember it.

Sitting on a little platform outside that tree house was a certain bear of very little brain.

I called him “The Big Winnie the Pooh” because that’s exactly what he was – a huge, stuffed Winnie the Pooh. Three feet tall. A bright red vest stretched over his portly, honey-pot shaped belly. Black shiny eyes and that tiny knowing smile.

I wanted him. Oh, how I wanted him.
Extra HedyBlog bonus points if you can tell me Winnie-the-Pooh's real name.
We’d be shopping for Garanimals or Toughskins and that beautiful bear would beckon me from the top of that tree.

“Come, Hedy. Climb up into my tree house. Listen to my stories. Eat my honey.”

Our love affair was meant to be. I knew it.
Pooh taught me how to deal with bossy know-it-alls like Rabbit and Owl.

Pooh taught me that eating a little smackeral of something sweet always makes you feel better.
“What do you want Santa Claus to bring you for Christmas, Hedy?” everyone would ask.

“The Big Winnie the Pooh at Sears.”

I remember being more than a little worried that Santa Claus wasn’t aware of the exact location of The Big Winnie the Pooh. Of course Santa doesn’t need Sears. He has elves. Elves would have no idea how to make a Big Winnie the Pooh. Even if they could, they couldn’t. Of course not.

Because the Big Winnie the Pooh is one of a kind.

And he’s at Sears, goddammit.
So Christmas morning comes, and unbelievably, so does The Big Winnie the Pooh.

I hug him thinking God I can’t wait to get you alone.

Well, not really. I was six.

But I did sleep with him. Yes.

He slept in my bed under the covers. With me.

Our affair was short-lived, sadly.

Several reasons: A) His yellow fur had a mildly unpleasant chemical smell to it which made me itch; B) Pooh under the covers created a tent-like effect making it impossible for me to stay warm; and C) At six, I was still wetting the bed on a regular basis so before too long Pooh smelled like pee.

He's still the first guy I ever slept with though.
I am listening to: Little Black Rain Cloud
I am reading: Press kit materials
And I am: In the mood for food



Edward Bear my dear rain cloud.
My mom saved my first stuffed animal-it was in fact Pooh.
In case the cloud should find you, sing this little ditty and it should put your pounce and bounce back in your step:
Gotta get up,
I gotta get goin'
I'm gonna see a friend of mine
He's round and he's fuzzy
I love him because
He's just Pooh Bear,
Winnie the Pooh Bear
Lookin' for fun, chasin' some hunny bees
Bear I know he's out there
Rumblee tumblee,
climin' a hunny tree
Fun never ends for us, we're so adventurous
Least every now and again
And when we're alone and there's nobody home
It's nice to be able to count on a friend
Like Pooh Bear, Winnie the Pooh Bear
Wherever you go,
oh won't you take me please
Pooh Bear, I gotta be there
It's me and it's you
Silly old Winnie the Pooh...


you know who... said...

"At six, I was still wetting the bed on a regular basis.....".
Are you saying that you now only wet the bed on an irregular basis?
I ask only because every once in a while, I'd swear Jim smells a little like pee.

Posolxstvo said...

When I was six, my mother referred to me as "Tigger" because I was apparently unable to walk into a room -- I had to bounce into it.

Over the years, my family has had many nicknames for me, few as kind as Tigger was.

Last year, my 7 year old son was in a school play about Winnie the Pooh, and he was chosen to play Tigger. What's that they say about apples falling far from trees and all of that shit?

Now for my bonus trivia question for YOU... If his name was Edward Bear, where did "Winnie the Pooh" come from?

Hedy said...

Hey You Know Who: If Jim smells like pee it's only because he's very old, like you.

Pos: According to A. A. Milne's introduction in my "World of Pooh" book (circa 1974) that I took off the shelf last night for the first time in forever, his son originally had a swan named Winnie-the-Pooh but they retired the swan for some unknown reason and christened his bear Pooh, which, as you know, would go bump bump bump down the stairs. Like Pooh, I am occasionally irritated by people with as much energy as Tigger.

Dave said...

Do I have to read this book and the critical commentary so I can keep up with the posts and comments here?

If I do, I may qualify for the oldest person in history to do so for the first time. I want a prize.

Posolxstvo said...

Partial credit.

'Winnie' was a bear at the local zoo. 'Pooh' was the name of a swan that Christopher Robin once had - or - was the noise that WTP made to blow flies off of his nose.

At least, that's what I heard...

Hedy said...

Dave: I promise we're done with Pooh for a while. Although it is a lovely book, very worth a visit - each chapter title begins with "In which..." Plus fun little bits of Pooh humor, too.

Pos: How could I remember the swan but forget about the bear? And I just read about it last night. Oh, bother.

Posolxstvo said...

If they ever come out with a Winnie the Pooh edition of Trivial Pursuit, I will totally kick ass!


Imagine what useful things I could be doing with the part of my brain that has been relegated to hanging onto that little gem.