Whimsy

I've been bombarded with whimsy lately.

From stage productions of Midsummer Night's Dream and The Fantasticks to the opera of The Magic Flute and an anniversary screening of The Princess Bride and finally Moonstruck, I can't seem to get away from fairy tales of whimsy and mirth where the girl always get the boy, baddies get their due and anything remotely wrong rights itself with minimal strife and struggle.

Charming, fantastical, whimsical. Delusional?

I don’t think it has to be.  We're inundated with bad news and real news and hard news at lightening speed everyday from here at home, abroad and beyond, it all gets a bit crushing, doesn't it?  Why can't we save a little room somewhere in our hopeful hearts and overtaxed brains for a bit of whimsy? A little place where, yes, the girl always get the boy, baddies get their due and anything remotely wrong rights itself with minimal strife and struggle?

This will open you up to a bit more heartache and disappointment, sure.  Most likely people will think you're a little crazy. Well, that's okay. You'll have highs and you'll have lows but you'll rise again to see what else life has in store for you. So, bring on the cynic and the sourpuss and bring on Don Henley, too, who told us we were being "poisoned by these fairytales", to them, life is about erecting barriers of cautiousness to exclude hope.  None for me, thanks.  I'll take a little shot of whimsy to warm my heart anyday.