I guess the wild things are still somewhere inside me.

There are some emotions that only a child can experience. They are the same ones we occasionally are lucky enough to catch remembered glimpses of as adults. I can best describe the one that poked me in the side a few minutes ago as rapture/wonder. It's the one where you are swept away and transported to another world in which you are simultaneously the ultimate ruler and most indistinguishable speck of dust which can only float in awe of its own power or absolute lack thereof. Sometimes it comes from a hyper-specific place, like the sense/memory of listening to "Sgt. Pepper's" on 8 track in my dad's car (van?). Sometimes it's a feeling you don't even know you have inside you. I felt one of those just now.

I haven't read "Where the Wild Things Are" since I was a kid. I couldn't tell you what it's about; and while I can remember what the pages look like as clearly as the day I saw them first, I recall little else. While I have walked by copies in the kids' section at many a bookstore while Melissa and I have been last-minute shopping, and have often flashed back to a specific page while standing in the guest room in my sister's house (as it corresponds to "my" room in the similarly designed "Cape Cod" we grew up in), I have never picked it up or read it since I was a little little kid. I have almost avoided it because it is a truly perfect memory which a revisit could only destroy.

I have read a ton about the clusterf*ck that is/has been/will be the Spike Jones live action film adaptation of this book. I secretly even hoped it would never see the light of day. It would surely only serve to either kill one of my few remaining "perfect" and intense memories and/or would raise the most presumptuous bullshit ire in the hipster indie-retro-fuckbag community. Both of those propositions scare the shit out of me. The memory one is obvious, but if you think that Peter Jackson's "Lord of the Rings" flickers brought the crazies (sorry, guys) out of the woodwork, wait 'til we are subjected to one man's vision (revision?) of a book that I am almost positive most of the 20 and 30 somethings around would attach similar sentiments to my own. So I clicked on the trailer skeptically.

Maybe it was my already too-sentimental attachment to the Arcade Fire song used in the trailer (I had a particularly special choir sing it a few years ago). Maybe the weather has me confused on the inside. Either way: I felt that feeling. For 20 seconds in the middle of the trailer I was a child. I was reminded that there are beautiful places and things and indescribable feelings in this world and the worlds that only exist inside our heads. So, while I hate to be the guy who just posts videos on his blog every other day, this one made me feel special. Maybe it will do the same for you.



I am having some vid problems. If it won't load, just try here.