Back from the Neverland

I guess I never bothered to mention that I finished Peter Pan. I had meant to write about it when I finished, but rather forgot. I suppose it's not worthy of too much consideration, but the truth of the matter is, it was a fascinating read, once you got over the killing.

The whole reason I could ever recommend that book to anyone (besides its sheer classic value), is because James Barrie was truly a genius. Throughout the whole story you get the feeling that he was as baffled as you are, as to why the story unfolded the way it did. He sounded so helpless, often, as if it pained him that the story follows certain paths, and it pained him that he couldn't just make up whatever he pleased. There was one point in the book where he was talking about all the adventures the children had on the Neverland, and he spent a while trying to decide what story to tell. Shall I tell the one about the mermaids? Or the battle with the Redskins? Or the time when Tinker Bell tried to float Wendy away? Or when Peter fought the lions? Eventually, James Barrie claimed to have tossed a coin to decide which story to tell, and ended up telling the one about mermaids, though he was awfully sorry it hadn't been another story, but that's just the way it was.

It just cracked me up, how much James Barrie feels a part of the story. You almost feel as if he were really a part of it, like you'd have a much different view of everything, had someone else attempted to tell it.

Another part I liked? That when they wanted to tell time on the Neverland, someone would wander around until they heard the crocodile ticking, and then hang around him until he chimed the hour. At which point they would know what time it was.

But all that aside, there were parts I really didn't like. At the end, when Peter Pan is having the last battle with Hook and the pirates, one of the Lost Boys slowly counts as various pirates get killed off. One. Two. Three. And so on (he gets up to about seventeen, which isn't actually correct, because two, Smee and someone else, I forget who, managed to escape alive). And even the demise of Hook is viewed as a rather lackadaisical affair, similar to spotting the Never Bird in the ocean, or bumping into Tiger Lilly in the woods. It rather creeped me out to have to read it in such a hum-drum manner.

Also, I couldn't decide how old Peter Pan really was. We like to think of him as maybe eight or ten (well, that's how old I might have placed him, if I'd given it any thought), but in the book it says multiple times that Peter still had his baby teeth. Well, I nannied a child who just turned five, and has already lost several of his baby teeth. Is this to imply that Peter was maybe just four years old? I really don't understand how a boy of such short stature could conceivably knock off so many beefy pirates.

Also, this doesn't seem to be common Peter Pan knowledge, but Peter had a terrible memory. He forgot everything. I think it was just to show that he was a child and didn't have to care, but maybe it was because he was four years old, and children of that age don't have a good recollection of anything.

And I could never determine "fact" from "fiction," because the book goes on and on about how they play-acted everything, from meals to mending to medicine. Wendy made the children sleep on the rock for half an hour before swimming after lunch, but then it says that it was rather silly, since their lunch was just play-acting, anyhow. So... did they ever eat? I have no idea.

There's this hilarious part right at the end of the book where we're in the nursery, looking at Mrs. Darling as she mourns for her children, and James Barrie had wanted to mock her, because he wasn't so terribly fond of her, but then he saw that she really did miss her children, so he decided to be nice. But there's this hilarious sentence that says, "If she was too fond of her rubbishy children, she couldn't help it." I just liked that the children were described as rubbishy.

Speaking of children, I didn't realize, until reading this original version of the story, that the Lost Children stayed in the "real world." In the Disney movie, didn't they stay in the Neverland? I don't quite recall.

Oh, and Mr. Darling felt so dreadfully remorseful about his part in the children flying away (he had been the one to tie up Nana the night they flew the coop), that after the children left, he kicked Nana out of the kennel and he lived in it until the children returned. He had the taxi bring him to and from work every day (he was excessively fond of taxis, since a taxi had helped him beat the rush to propose to Mrs. Darling before she was a Mrs.) and just never got out of the kennel. Can you say odd?

Whatever the case, the story was well presented, though I found the plot a little strange at times. Odd though it might have been, I have done my duty as a child, and read Peter Pan. I must say, it doesn't make me want to stay a child forever. It makes me happy, in fact, that I'm in full possession of my faculties and in no danger of being attacked by pirates or ticking crocodiles. Sometimes real life feels safer than fantasy.

Forgotten: the lost boys

Well, the previous (rather, the post that is below me right now) was an old one I'd written back before I even got this blog. I'm forever writing random things, keeping them for a while, and then deleting them. I wrote this back in January, and when I got a blog in March, I figured I should use it for a blog post. But alas, time slipped away and I never posted it. But today is my day! I pulled it out and posted it.

The ironic thing? I'd never really read Peter Pan before (actually, I'd read the original play, but not the book) and I'm currently reading it. I'm only about halfway through, but it's sort of a long read for what's perceived as a childly book. It's mostly enjoyable, though James Barrie sure didn't shy away from blood and gore. For instance, he described how Captain Hook liked to randomly kill people. Just exactly what I wanted to hear.

I saw the Disney version of Peter Pan once, and the only thing I really remember is that they sung a song with a line "Why is the red man red," which always amused me for some reason, and also that once when Hook and Peter are fighting, Peter steps right off the end of some part of the ship (I'm bad a parts of ships, but it's a little crossbeam the sail was attached to, if that helps) and keeps fighting with Hook--even though he's not standing on anything solid! I remember being rather disgusted at the lack of realism in that part.

Though how the whole thing with Neverland was acceptable, I'm not sure. Oh, James Barrie actually called it "the Neverland" the whole time, so I guess I should start describing it as "the Neverland." Pardon my previous erroneous ways.

Wendy and the insurance company

I often get those epiphany moments where I realize that I never want to grow up. Not so much like Wendy and the Lost Boys and all that, but more like... real life is not fun.

What brings about this particular moment of revelation is insurance. Not mine, of course, because I'm trying to avoid things like real life (including insurance) for now, but I've been working with my grandparents on their insurance recently. Good practice for when it will be my own insurance, no doubt, but it's a little hard to be thankful for such a wonderful opportunity at the moment.

So here's the deal: they are thinking of switching insurance companies. Not a problem, I can check up on other insurance companies for you. So my grandpa got all his information together, along with a sheet of places he wanted me to price check, and off I start. Well, first of all, the websites ask these crazy questions that I don't understand. Why would insurance be different depending on how much education you had? So, my grandma did high school and that's it; are you seriously going to charge higher or lower insurance because of that? There are bazillions of questions about firewalls and alarm systems, which I mostly don't understand and fudge.

So auto insurance: I'm supposed to know how many cylinders their car has. What? I hardly even know what cylinders are. Well, I do, but how am I supposed to know that? So then it's all like "LD" or "SS" and it has something to do with the car, but all I can think is "Lord's Day?" "Sunday School?" and that's not what they're asking.

On top of that, some of the companies ask about liters. Huh? Liters for gas? something about pressure? What? I have no idea what this stuff means. And the first time a website asked me something about garages, I thought it had something to do with where the car got parked at work or something. I was looking around for a place where I could click "we don't use parking garages frequently, y'all crazyson" but it didn't have it. And then I realized that it just was talking about where we park it in a garage. Which town. Oh, never mind.

So then I had to call a few places (felt like a few dozen places, honestly) to speak directing to representatives, because, well, the Internet hates me. So then they realize that I'm just a granddaughter and need authorization. "My grandpa's at Costco, can you get it from my grandma?" so I stick my grandma on the phone. All I can hear is her side of the conversation, which goes something like this: "Yes, that is my name... Yes... No, I'm the grandmother, she's the granddaughter... She can tell you what you need to know, she understands more about this than I do..." it goes on for a while until I get back on the phone with that particular guy, who begins to ask all the same questions the website wanted to ask me five minutes previously.

Education: "Well, Mike," that was his name, in case anybody was worried that my name suddenly became Mike "I asked him that this morning and he said that he has years more experience than any of the goons working for your company, so I'm not sure where that puts him." The insurance guy laughed. Which was good, because I'm not sure if you're supposed to tell people who are helping you that they're little more than goons. But hey, somehow it worked.

So this particular guy (we're sticking with Mike stories, for now) figured that since I was just a granddaughter, I wouldn't know anything about insurance. So he explains every little thing to me, and so I'm guessing he was paid by the hour, because I've got to say, I did not need so much background info on every part of the policy plan.

But then I was mentally speculating about his life, and wanted to ask personal questions. I mean, is that allowed? I don't know proper protocol, but he was talking about his family, and then he mentioned that he's usually in the office until 10:00, which doesn't sound like a guy who has a family who means a whole lot, if you ask me.

But, of course, none of this was about asking me.

Anyhow, after explaining to Mike multiple times that we didn't need rental insurance ("Mike, the whole point of me being a granddaughter is that if their car does break down and go into the shop, I'll just drive them around for a while") and didn't need roadside assistance ("AAA, Mike, AAA") we were ready to get the quote.

And then his computer went all weird for a while and I got put on hold. Not that I mind hold, but the suspense just about killed me. And then, of course, it was way too expensive and totally not worth it.

So Mike got to waste about an hour of my time, and now I can't get that hour back.

Is there insurance for missing time? Because I want some.