When I sat down to retro-review this episode, I will admit I had to watch it twice. For science, you understand. And I'm also going to tell you right off the bat that this episode gets 648 billion hooks out of five, because it's That. Damn. Good.
We begin this evening running through the jungle with the Lost Boys, who are dragging Neal along for the ride.
Meanwhile in Pan's camp, some little shit of a Lost Boy is taunting Henry and poking him with a stick. Henry picks up a stick to defend himself, and Pan tells him he can believe his stick into being a sword, since he has the heart of the truest believer. Henry does so, and then using the skills his badass Grandpa and Papa taught him, he cuts the other kid's stick down to nothing, and manages to get a slice across the kids' cheek for good measure.
Henry is mortified that he hurt the kid, apologizing profusely, but Pan is clearly pleased. "Henry, don't you know the best thing about being a Lost Boy?" he asks. "You never apologize."
The Lost Boys send up a cheer for Henry, who seems to enjoy the praise.
I'm firmly middle-aged. There, I said it. I'm closer now to my AARP card than I am to my college years. In hippie tree-hugger terms, I've flown past "maiden", and now teeter precariously between "mother" and "crone."
Crone is such an ugly word.
And I refuse to feel alone in my rapidly aging body (with the mind that seems to age at a pace that double that of the body). So here, for your Friday enjoyment is a list of ten facts to make you feel really, really old.
Crone-ish, if you will. Unless you're a man. I don't know what we call a male crone. I'll have to get back to you on that one.
Sorry, did I wander off-topic? I have a tendency to do that these days.
Instead of a picture, today I'll just add a few words to a great cause. Help this kid out, if you can. And share this, please!
John Hammett of Thomasville, GA has a request:
My son has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome and Major Depressive Disorder. This causes him to be stubborn and lack motivation. I have tried getting him to learn to ride a regular bicycle but he is clumsy and uncoordinated due to his size and he's afraid he will fall and hurt himself. He is 10 years old, 5'7" and weighs 200lbs. He needs a big bike but since he can't ride a regular bicycle he needs a 3 wheeler. My hope is that a 3 wheeled bike will give him the confidence to want to ride and riding will help with his weight. Any help would be greatly appreciated.
Sorry for the lack of substantive stuff on the blog in the last few weeks. I do try to throw something up there a few days a week and at least write one or two "real" posts, but along with the other blog I run, working full-time, and trying to bang out a book, it's getting a bit tough to keep up.
Still, I will persevere. Yes, I will.
A book, you ask? Why, yes. Anyone who knows me knows that I am forever in the middle of writing a book. I have six different book ideas going at any given time and I have a pile of half to three-quarters finished manuscripts that are just awesome. I even finished two into rough draft form and one is currently out to an editor and has been "bumped to the acquisitions desk" where I am eagerly awaiting an update.
We begin tonight with Felix leading Neal through the jungle, taunting him about how Henry will never get away. Neal punches him in the face and gets away. Any episode that begins with Felix getting smacked in the chops is okay by me.
Then we go back to the Enchanted Forest where teen Baelfire is given a gift by a post-Dark One Rumplestiltskin. He lets his father know on no uncertain terms that he's tired of getting gifts taken from people his father has terrorized, and what's more - he wants to leave their home.
Rumple offers him a palace but Bae wants to see the world and have some real friends. Rumple refuses - he wants to keep Bae safe at all costs.
Where I live, I get the best of both worlds. I'm in a small town riding the edge between the far suburbs of a major US city and the very rural farmland that stretches to the west. I only have to drive an hour and my kids can have museums and touring exhibits and Broadway road shows and concerts and all kinds of culture.
And on the flip side of that, we live in a town where the local pizza parlor owners know us by name. A town where every business proudly displays the name of the local high school team and in warm weather, there's a car wash going on every weekend at the local Sonic Drive-Through, raising money for boy scouts or cheerleaders or local churches.
I grew up in a small town, and while it chafed and suffocated me, I recognize now as an adult, the value of having that experience. I won't talk about "small town values" because, honestly, I think that's bunk. I know just as many wonderful parents and kids in big cities who have values that are every bit as good. I think it's more the vibe of the place. The sense of connectedness. And above all, the kitschy, fun "small town" things that you get to do growing up.
In our town, it was the Homecoming and Thanksgiving parades. Where I am now, it's an annual Halloween parade, and that's where the kids and I were, relaxing in our folding chairs, lined up on main street, ready for the lights and the music and most of all, the people throwing candy!
I was kid-free this past weekend, and since I can't afford cable right now, that means a whole lot of movies between housework and yard work and writing work and work work. God bless Redbox. Thanks to them I had a "Mediocre Movie Marathon" featuring: "After Earth" (which was truly mediocre), "Oz The Great and Powerful" (below mediocre, and it pains me to say it because I love love love James Franco), 'World War Z' (better than expected, but from what I understand, that's because I didn't read the book) and "Bridesmaids", which was wonderful but not what I expected at all.
"It's the female version of The Hangover!" The press touted. "Hysterical fun!" "You'll laugh until you cry!"
Tonight, we begin traipsing through the jungle, and David's having a hard time with the heat. Emma checks the map and Pan - the asshole - has moved his camp, so the map is essentially no good. Regina wants to use magic to poof into the camp, but Hook advises against it as Pan will surely have barriers up against magic.
He suggests they look up an old fairy friend of his on the island as it's possible she may have some pixie dust left that they can use to fly in. Into the camp that he just said had barriers against magic, which pixie dust is. Whatever. Then David explains that pixie dust is like nuclear fairy dust, making me cringe and squint one eye because Josh Dallas showed his Kentucky roots and used the hillbilly ignoramus method of pronunciation: "Noo-kyoo-lurr."
I first heard about the Kennedy Krieger Institute when I was doing some research on autism, not long after David was diagnosed. Located in Baltimore, MD, Kennedy Krieger is an internationally recognized institution dedicated to research, special education and professional training focused in the areas of developmental disabilities and disorders of the brain, spinal cord and musculoskeletal system.
David has been in full on warp-speed super-dooper autism mode lately. Not that he's ever not a kid with autism, mind you, but some days he can almost pass for a neurotypical kid. In fact, unless you watched him or talked to him for a good length of time, usually you wouldn't pick up on his autism right away.
Unless, of course, you're an autism parent. You'd see it a mile away, then. We always do.
But lately - oh, lately. His behaviors have been in fine form, and I wish I knew what made him cycle into high gear. I've kept notes and journals, hoping to find a common thread, but nothing's added up so far.
We begin this evening with Rumple, building a giant fire and that casts his shadow against a large rock. He then takes his magical dagger and painfully cuts the shadow from his body, commanding it to take the dagger and hide it where even he couldn't find it. He obviously doesn't trust Pan, and Pan obviously knows all about him.
On the other side of the island, our cadre of heroes and villains are looking for a good vantage point upon which to spy on Pan's hideout. Snow offers Emma a drink of water and Emma takes the water skin with a mumbled, "Thanks, Mary-Margaret." Awkward. Snow lets her know that it's okay to call her Mom, but Emma's not ready to do that on a regular basis.
While hacking away through the jungle, Hook stops David from slashing into a very poisonous plant known as Dreamshade. Then he and Emma get into an amusing conversation about his alter-ego in our world when he asks what the Captain Hook of the story books looks like. Emma mentions wax mustaches and perms with her trademark smirk as Hook lets the reference sail right over his head.
Now we move back in time to the Enchanted Forest, where we see Prince Charming galloping to Snow White's side on his magnificent steed. He approaches the funeral bier, and we re-enact True Love's Kiss yet again. This time we see it all from Regina's point of view as she views the news via her magic mirror.
And hot damn, she looks incredible in that outfit.
When I was born, the story goes, the doctor gave my behind a firm little tap and instead of bellowing or wailing as most babies are wont to do, it is said that I opened my widdle baby mouth and laughed. And laughed and laughed.
My mother, in a fit of pure happiness at finally, finally getting her girl (I have two older brothers) decided then and there to give me a middle name befitting my personality and her elation.
She could have given me the middle name of "Joy." I'd have even settled for "Happy." How about "Bliss?"