Unmasking The

I still remember the dark and snowy night Aunt Helen took Joan and me to see “The Wizzard of Oz” at the Capital Theater in NYC. We went to the early 5 pm showing not only because it was half price, but also we would be home before the west side streets were too empty or unsafe. It was a simpler time, but women were always cautious.

Joan and I were 10 and 9 respectively and best friends. Our families lived in the same tenement building, and our Moms worked together down the street at FAO Schwartz. Aunt Helen was my maiden Aunt who had been kept home in the Irish tradition to “take care of the family,” and sadly neglect herself. However, that is another story.

It’s rather odd that after so many decades and so much life ( that Joan and I still miraculously share) to remember that film so vividly.

I believe there are two reasons. One is the incredible song of hope and belief, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” On that cold winter night in 1940 as we walked home along the dark city streets, two little girls sang the lyrics to the famed song and skipped along pretending we were on the yellow brick road. Poor dear Aunt Helen was terribly distressed at our unladylike behavior, and “silliness.” However, nothing she said to us could dissipate the joy we shared after viewing the memorable movie.

I cannot recall how many times since then, while I no longer skip, that the beautiful song has not brought me close to tears. Always, of course, for different reasons, but ever and always evoking the belief in an afterlife and reunion with those I love and so desperately miss, including gentle Aunt Helen.

Today I remember, however, the facade of the Wizard, and the cruel reality behind his screen.

Last night while trying to analyze something, I thought, “I’ll ask Wikipedia or Google it.”

Then I realized, I don’t know who Google or Wikipedia really are. Of course, I’m aware of the public definition and common information available for both sites.

Then suddenly, my mind returned to watching the unmasking of the Wizard on that cold night so long ago in NYC.

And I realized how now I have put total confidence in information provided by a robotic site without being absolutely aware of who provides such data, or opinions or viewpoints.

And quickly I realized that I am still not totally removed from the young girl skipping along a dark city street pretending it was a yellow brick road.

Perhaps it’s time I really should grow up, but then just maybe, I still want to believe in a Wizard. Precisely, the way I will ever and always believe there’s a land somewhere over a rainbow.