Friday, March 18, 2011

What's Your Yellow Brick Road Like?


While chatting with a coworker this morning, I learned of an extraordinary place in the middle of Nowhere, Kansas: the Oz Museum. And I nearly lost my marbles, right there at my desk.

I fancy myself a true Wizard of Oz fanatic. What started the conversation in the first place was a recounting of my plans for a spare room (if it is ever vacated). I own all kinds of Oz memorabilia, both movie and literary, and recently started collecting volumes of the original series. I can run the category in Jeopardy!, much to the amazement of my husband. I even played the tin man in a high school play. And God bless Jim Shore, whose series of figures based on the original characters is beginning to populate my china cabinet. People will have Christmas present ideas for me for years.

What makes Oz so special to so many people? Oh yes, there are folks who love to find allegory. Take my American History professor in college, who walked us through the symbolism of the story that mirrors the events surrounding the Industrial Revolution. OK, I can see that. And everybody knows about the whole Pink Floyd soundtrack thing, right? The point is, folks from all walks of life are fascinated by yellow bricks and ruby (or silver) slippers, flying houses and talking lions, and a whole city of little people who blindly follow a well-meaning buffoon. Hmm, getting a little closer to home on that one, huh?

Anyway, Oz is timeless. It appeals to all ages, shapes, colors, and creeds. It’s part of the American experience and the history of Hollywood. And it’s a lesson for life. The story gives us all hope to find what we’re looking for—not somewhere over the rainbow but right here in our own backyard. It reminds us that rough patches are part the journey, and that “a heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”

And perhaps the best advice of all? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

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