Trivia Time!

Did you know that the actor who was originally going to play the Tin Man in MGM’s beloved 1939 classic film The Wizard of Oz was hospitalized for weeks because the silver makeup used for his costume was so toxic it made him extremely sick? Actually, Ray Bolger was originally cast as the Tin Man, but he traded characters with Buddy Ebsen, so Ray Bolger played the Scarecrow, while Ebsen was set to then be the Tin Man. However, the white face paint and coat of aluminum dust proved disastrous for him; he suffered an extreme allergic reaction and was hospitalized for respiratory distress. In the end, Jack Haley replaced him in the role and gave a spectacular performance as the Tin Man (with a different, less dangerous approach to makeup and costuming!).

Did you know that in the original Oz stories, Dorothy’s magic slippers are not ruby red, but silver? The filmmakers changed the color of the shoes from that of the books, because they thought red would be much more appealing on screen.

I’ve been thinking about The Wizard of Oz in recent weeks because it was a movie we often watched during the holiday season when I was growing up. While my brother and I sometimes argued about what we wanted to watch, this was one of the few things we all collectively enjoyed. It became a significant bit of connective tissue for us, my brother and myself and even my parents. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was a song often sung to us as children. I’ve been looking forward to showing my daughter this film, but wanted to wait until she was old enough not to get too scared by the Wicked Witch of the West…or the grouchy talking trees which I didn’t like when I was little…maybe this year will be the year, we’ll see.

Yesterday, I was making conversation with someone about Thanksgiving plans, and when explaining what my family and I would be doing for the holiday, I misspoke. Instead of saying we would be going to my in-laws’ house, I said we would be going to his (my husband’s) in-laws’ house. My very tired brain was probably trying to choose between saying “my in-laws” and “his parents” and it got jumbled up coming out of my mouth. At the time, I laughed it off and joked that of course I meant my in-laws’ house, because my husband doesn’t have in-laws! After politely listening to the other person explain how they alternate sharing holidays with children and grandchildren between their house and the in-laws’/other side of the family, I commented that my husband and daughter and I don’t ever have this problem, every holiday is with my husband’s parents, because we don’t have an “other side of the family” to contend with, on my end. I called this a silver lining, at the time.

When I was alone later, the silver turned to lead and felt damn heavy. It was like that silver had settled into my lungs, akin to the effects of that aluminum dust on Buddy Ebsen. I can click my heels all I want, but I no longer have silver slippers that will take me wherever I wish to go; there is truly, literally, no place like home for me anymore, no place I get to return to that will hold good memories or good people to share them with. Don’t get me wrong, I have a select few people, and a select few places, but they’re all scattered to the winds like debris strewn about by a cyclone. Holidays have a tendency to make me feel adrift; I’m Dorothy, but I’ll always be in Oz. I’ve permanently exiled myself to Oz.

…None of what I’ve said is untrue here, but, before this gets too overdramatic, I want to make note of the things I am wholeheartedly grateful for: my safe and warm house, food to eat, clean water to drink, my daughter, my husband, my husband’s family, my friends who are my family, my jobs, my students, my coworkers, my community, my faith, reading, writing, music, art…I have a very blessed life. And I am thankful for you, dear readers, whomever and wherever you might be.

Yes, I’ll always be in Oz. But, Oz is a good place to be.