To Infinity and Beyond...

This past week I experienced two profound events: the funeral of my great-aunt, Celestine and the third installment of the Toy Story series. While these happenings may seem to be as unrelated as two things could possibly be, I beg to differ.

My great-aunt was a wonderful soul. Cel, as she was affectionately known, had a meek and gentle spirit to all she encountered; all except fish. Fishing was her passion. During the funeral ceremony, everyone that spoke of her mentioned her love of fishing. It’s funny to watch the goings-on at a funeral. Some family and friends were deeply affected. Some listened attentively and responded only in head nods or “ummm hms”. The church members were there to do their job; sing in the choir, escort people to seats, and pass out fans and paper towels. A lot of the children that were present had little or no memory of my aunt, but seeing their parents cry caused them to fall into hysterics, as well.

Funerals make you think. This one made me think about time. I thought about time wasted and the time that has yet to come. I thought about the importance of doing something with the time you’re given. Then I began to think about the time I spent in the movie theatre earlier in the week.

While watching Toy Story 3, I was deeply and profoundly affected. First, let me say, this movie is absolutely amazing! I watch a lot of movies, and this was the best movie I had seen in a long time.

Spoiler Alert
In the movie, Andy is getting ready to go to college. Yes, college. While packing his things and preparing for his departure, all of his toys are preparing for the inevitable. Andy hasn’t played with these toys for years, and they are headed to the attic. By a twist of fate, they end up at a day care that is “run”, prison-style, by a sadistic, yet heart-broken teddy bear. He forces all of the new toys to be fodder for the younger kids who nearly destroy them. Long story short, the toys have to come together to make it out. Through the bonds of friendship and unyielding loyalty, they make it to a home where a little girl is more than happy to play with them and give them the love they need.

Forget the spoiler alert; go see it!

The major plot line centers around Andy growing too old for his toys. I understand this. I mean as a teenager, I put away my He-Man, G.I. Joe, and Hulkamania action figures mainly because I found more interesting figures to play with. Not everyone can be Steve Carrell in The 40-Year Old Virgin. So, with a greater interest in the fairer sex, I no longer had a need for an Erector Set. Get it? Get it?

Though I moved away from toys, as I became a Grown Ass Man, I didn’t give up all of my youth.

I admit it, I love cartoons. And I just don’t mean the old nostalgic Bugs Bunny and Tom & Jerry. In my opinion, some of the best films in recent years are of the animated variety. The Shrek series, The Incredibles, Up, Beauty and The Beast, Finding Nemo, and The Lion King…how can you go wrong with those picks? The storytelling is amazing. Don’t sleep on How to Train Your Dragon and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, either. And who didn’t at least mist up when Simba watched his dad get trampled in a wildebeest stampede?

“Dad…Dad…wake up, Dad,” Simba wimpers as he lifts his father's lifeless paw.

You can wipe your tears. I’m sorry.

As kids, cartoons were our movies, our YouTube, our Facebook, our Twitter. We lived in a world of cartoons. There were the before school-eating your cereal cartoons. And there were the cartoons you watched while you were doing your homework. Then, there were the wake up on the weekend at the break of dawn-eat breakfast and lunch in front of the TV-save the best for last-Saturday morning cartoons.

Many people tell me that I should get rid of my cartoon collection. They don’t understand why a man of my age is still fascinated by these animated stories. If you ask my friend, Marlin, he’d say Disney/Pixar inundated DVD collection serves more nefarious purposes. No comment. Cartoons like these extol time-honored values of courage, loyalty, and respect. But for me, they also put me in the my mind of Jay-Z. A couple of songs from Hova’s last couple of albums refer to the ideas of youth. 30 Something and Forever Young both laud the notion of holding on to one’s youth.

People often denigrated the late Michael Jackson for his child-like antics and fascinations. They dubbed him as the Peter Pan of Pop. Given all of the things that he’d been through, Michael just wanted to keep a little bit of that boy that sang ABC to us. Hell, there are multi-million dollar plastic surgery practices whose entire purpose is to give people the illusion of youth. My aunt stayed young by surrounding herself with kids and teaching them the fine art of casting and reeling.

As I sat in the church, continually wiping the stream of tears from my eyes and listening to the countless people tell stories from my aunt’s past, I too longed for days gone by. For the days of cartoons and freeze tag. For the Little League football helmets and ice cream trucks.

And though I can’t get those days back, I can watch movies like Toy Story 3, and travel with Buzz Lightyear and live to infinity and beyond.

Below is an excerpt from a poem I wrote and recited for my Aunt Cel’s funeral:


Memories
…recall my smile,
Recount a story.
Remember that one time that we…
Travel back in time and space, when there lived a you and me.
Rest your thoughts on our special times that no one ever knew.
Tuck me away in your heart and mind, and I’ll always be with you.
The earthly ties that bind us will all one day be severed.
But it is in the memories you hide deep in your soul, that I will live forever.