When my dad visited this fall, he brought with him a small stuffed monkey wearing a cape and a mask. He camped on the sofa and waited for my youngest son to come into the room. Pull and release. The monkey soared across the room, cape fluttering in the breeze, screaming as it reached apogee. It sounded just like the screaming monkeys from the Wizard of Oz.
Back in the days when you were at the complete mercy of the network programming executives for your home entertainment, a showing of the Wizard of Oz was a real treat. Counter cultural even then, my family never ate with the TV on (except on Saturday nights when the Black Hawks were playing), but we would be allowed to do so to watch Oz. My dad saw it in the theater when he was 7 years old and has fond memories of the magical moment when Dorothy reached Oz and the film was suddenly in color. Since we had a black and white TV, I never picked up on that transition (and now that I think of it, I don't think I've ever seen the film in color). My first memory of the film is of the wicked witch and her screaming monkeys. I was terrified of the monkeys, and would flee the room when they swarmed.
These days I have a deep desire for my own corps of screaming monkeys that I can call out when I reach the limits of my patience.
Find your own screaming monkey here. Or see a flight on YouTube.
