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August 19, 2001
Historically, I have always been able to hurt more for other people than for myself.
I remember the first time I watched the Wizard of Oz. At the end of the movie, Dorothy is about to hop in the air-balloon to fly back to Kansas. She says her goodbyes and starts with The Tin Man and The Cowardly Lion. Then she comes to The Scarecrow and, right in front of the other two guys, she launches into this long, weepy-ass speech about how special Scarecrow is and how she's going to miss him the most! I couldn't have been more than four or five when I first witnessed this cruelty and I remember feeling really bad for Tin Man and Cowardly Lion. Couldn't she have whispered her sweet nothings in his straw-filled ear? When I saw it a couple of years later, I exhorted Tin Man through the television screen to take his ax and split Dorothy's pretty little noggin right down her pig-tails part. Anyway, that scene started me on a life of relentless empathy and good manners.
Someday I'll tell you about my love of poppies.
© 2001 by the beastmaster