I can’t go into the weekend with this on my mind. So, here we go.
I asked my mom the other day, “On a scale of 1-10, how dramatic am I?”
In unwritten dramatic scales, 10 presumably consists of daily temper tantrums in the street because you can’t get two toppings on your ice cream cone, and 1 consists of ignoring all problems in your day to day life because you’re just “so over the drama.”
My mother rated me at an 8.
Yes, an 8 on the drama scale. My mother just sentenced me to a semi-regular mental and physical breakdown in a public place over frozen treats.
Keeping that in mind, but at the same time, ignoring it completely and thinking of me in a more positive, attractive, calm and collected light, I want to tell you a story.
Recently, there was an attack on my childhood.
It started with an infomercial. An innocent advertisement for a compilation of songs that serenaded me through adolescence, Now That’s What I Call Disney!
At the start of it all, it seemed like a mix I could get behind. A little piece of plastic disc nostalgia that I could really see myself enjoying… Until I saw the track list.
Frankly, it was just atrocious. Flat out wrong, immoral, and a complete mockery of the cartoons that taught me the wind had colors, carpets can fly, and legs were required for dancing.
I don’t know who did it. I don’t know what committee is involved with the song selection. I’m assuming can only be a panel made up of this woman and her friends, to represent Disney in the first volume of hits.
But, God as my witness, it needs to be corrected.
At first glance you may think to yourself, hey Meg, your mom is totally right, you are dramatic, I actually think I saw you crying about missing toppings on your ice cream cone back in August.
And while I was having a tantrum, it was actually because my friend wouldn’t buy me a wine at 3pm on a Wednesday.
My thoughts on this CD are still valid. If you’re going to have a Now That’s What I Call Disney, you’ll need a few Bare Necessities, if you will (umm…. yes, pun totally intended). Here are my expert feelings on most of the selections:
Can You Feel The Love Tonight: I’ll be honest, this is the first love scene I ever saw in a feature film. So, that alone needs to be a reason for it to be PRAISED. Lion love is like, so real.
Part Of Your World: Never in my life have I found someone who had as many thingamabobs as me. I also have never met anyone who didn’t know what a fire was and why it burned. Still don’t. So… anyone?
Hakuna Matata: Zen Nation. I didn’t know what chill was until I heard this song. Plus, teenage Simba was kinda hot, no? Just me? K.
Under the Sea: How did I know things existed under water? This song. Figured the sea was just a big bathtub that covered the Earth’s floor before I found out there were talking crabs and singing corals down there. Just a big percussion party at the clam bake on the ocean floor.
Circle Of Life: NAHAHHHHHSSIIVVEEENNNYYAAA- NAMA-MEE-SCALABOOOOOW. Don’t know if that’s what it says, but I’m gonna sing it like that so loud, and so proud. Every time. Such a good song.
Colors of the Wind: I have asked four grinning bobcats, none have answered. I have no idea why the hell they keep smiling and someone needs to answer me. NOW.
I Just Can’t Wait To Be King: This song taught me how to rule a household. One time my mom told me to go clean my room before my grandparents came to visit. I was all like, “Kings don’t need advice from little horn bills for a start.” — I don’t want to talk about what happened after that. (#Grounded)
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: Ummdiddaliddiaummdillaaaiiiiiiii. I don’t think there are actual words to this song, so it gets credit by default for being a jumble of syllables with a boss melody.
When You Wish Upon a Shooting Star: Could this be a more boring opener? Do I want to fall asleep immediately after one song? No. I want to continue my journey down memory lane and go back to the time that I actually thought body parts would grow if I lied (aside: this would be so cool if you could pick the body parts that grew after lying, like my hair, I’d be Millenium Rapunzel with all my fib growth).
Someday My Prince Will Come: The only acceptable song from Snow White that should be included on this cd is Heigh Ho, and you didn’t do that.
Bella Notte: More like better not. Snore city. Population: everyone listening.
A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes: To be honest, I didn’t even know there were songs in Cinderella, this is just dumb.
Once Upon A Dream, Go The Distance, Friend Like Me, I Won’t Say: Same thing, don’t even remember these songs. Like a bad football player, cut ’em.
Everybody Wants to Be A Cat: Newsflash: No one likes cats. Dogs are so in right now. Puppies are the new currency, and cats are straight up debt. No one wants debt; no one wants cats.
I See The Light, You’ve Got A Friend In Me, Life is A Highway: New aged Pixar Disney movies shouldn’t even be considered for volume 1 (Post ’95). It’s just a sin. Get out of my face Tangled, Cars, and Toy Story. See you next year, suckaaaaas.
Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride: Does it sound like a good time? Yes. Do I even know what it means? No. I’ve never seen Lilo and Stitch because I like movies about real animals with real plots. I see you Lion King. Respect.
Reflection (NOT CHRISTINA AGUILERA): I don’t know why I would have to explain this, but not having Christina’s version of this song is nothing shy of eating a sandwich without condiments. Just deplorable.
… THE UGLY
Seeing as I just exiled ten songs from DisneyTown, there are some additions that need to be spoken for in order to make this whole ordeal right:
I’ll Make A Man Out of You: The fact that this song isn’t number 1 on the whole thing is blasphemous. This is the best song in Disney history. Coursing rivers, great typhoons, raging fires, moons with mysterious dark sides. Color me intrigued. Repeat. All day. Every day. Except when I get sick of it. I take one day off. Then start again.
Be Our Guest: Talking candles? Pots and pans that have feelings? An ottoman that’s a dog? GIVE ME THIS HOUSE. I don’t need friends, I have decorations that will hang out with me. Life crisis averted.
Heigh-Ho: Give a kid a pick-axe and ask him to sing a song. What’s it gonna be? This one. Unforgivable overlook.
Reflection (Christina Aguilera Version): Phenomenal acting by Mulan in this music video. Very attentive, inquisitive stares into various mirrors of sizes and lengths. Breathtaking.
The only way to make this right is to take my suggestions and reprint all the copies of the cd out there right now. I’m speaking for a generation of 85’s to 90’s babies. But really, I’m speaking for myself. Fix it. Fix it now. Make it right. Or make a man out of me. Either one would be greatly appreciated.
Although, under no circumstances, will I be doing this: