Emotional connection creates new level of extended family
Most of us have a favorite film or TV show. We watch it over and over — or maybe it’s a highlight reel, a collection of favorite moments, we quote line for line.
I don’t really have favorites, so much as connections. I like finding an emotional bond with the things I watch.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw “Brave.” As the movie unfolded, I couldn’t help but wish I was watching it with my mom.
“Brave” is a coming-of-age tale for a young Scottish princess named Merida. She not only comes into her own, but she has to discover her mother’s place in her life as she grows.
I get that. While I love my mother dearly, she and I haven’t always seen eye to eye on everything. I think that’s the way of mothers and daughters, though. Boys, work, you name it, and we’ve managed to disagree at some point on it.
We’re both stubborn and pretty certain we know what’s best for me. But despite any squabbling we might have done, I wouldn’t trade her for all the money in the world. She’s my mom and I’m lucky to have her. That’s a lesson Merida has to learn.
While “Brave” managed to touch my heart, “Magic Mike” affected something else. Those familiar with me know that I do love the male form. The arms. The eyes. That smile. Those abs. It’s a list that could keep going. With “Magic Mike,” I got all of that goodness and more as the movie is about male strippers.
No, there was no full frontal and honestly, the graphic nature wasn’t there. Although, there was a scene with a silhouetted Joe Manganiello (of “True Blood” fame) that made me audibly gasp. The movie itself was OK, but the enjoyment BFF and I got out of the shirtless, bronzed men strutting their stuff was just what we needed to put a bad week behind us.
I’ve made connections with a lot of things, but few have touched me in a real, profound way. However, a true bond was broken this week when Andy Griffith passed away.
I felt like I had lost a family member and friend.
Growing up, I watched many episodes of “The Andy Griffith Show” with my family. Andy Taylor, Opie, Aunt Bee, Barney and the gang were always good for a laugh. But beyond that, I was learning lessons right along with Opie. I’m still traumatized by the episode in which he killed a mother bird with a slingshot and had to take care of her babies.
But don’t get me wrong. Sheriff Taylor didn’t have all the answers, but he somehow managed to make everything seem OK in the end. It was good, wholesome fun for the entire family.
Even though the show was filmed some 20 years later, I also grew up watching “Matlock.” Ben Matlock, a fiery Southern lawyer, has many of the same qualities that made Andy Taylor special and then some. Matlock had a fiery temper and wasn’t afraid to show it.
Whatever role he played, he left a mark on me and a lot of other people. Comedian, actor, singer, spokesperson. He wore many hats, and he wore them well. But honestly, I don’t have anything profound to say about Andy Griffith. I barely knew him, BUT I felt like I did.
I don’t have a doctorate in psychology, sociology or any other -ology that could tell me why I imprint on pop culture items like a baby bird chirping for some tasty bug action. All I know is that Andy Griffith and his work meant something to me.
I mourn his loss along with millions of other people who have never met him, and we know the world is a better place due to his pop culture contributions. He helped to create a vibrant, humanist community that filled our hearts and minds — and his work and legacy remain intact.
Amanda Greever is assistant managing editor at The Daily Times. She writes a weekly column in the Sunday Life section. She can be reached at 981-1161 or (firstname.lastname@example.org) Follow her on Twitter: http://www.twitter.com _editor.