When I was eight years old and my brother, Don, was four, we watched Mary Martin as Peter Pan on our black and white television set. It was 1960. To this day it is one of the most magical experiences of my life. For days afterward Don and I would zoom about the living room and front yard of our small house in Flint, Michigan…arms straight out to our sides screaming:
I-I-I’M FLY-YING…LOOK AT ME…WAY UP HIGH…LOOK AT ME…I CAN FLY…I’M FLY-YING!
Fortunately my brother and I were imaginative but we were not delusional. We didn’t climb up and jump off the roof or anything. My entire life I have been cursed with a short attention span. I adored the opening act of Peter Pan with Mary Martin as Peter flying through the large nursery window in search of his shadow. When discovered by the children, Peter charmed them with flying about the room singing that wondrous song. This is where my attention span problem came into play. Once Peter and the children flew from the window and across the night sky to Never Land, I pretty much lost interest in the story. I do want it known, however, that I did clap enthusiastically for Tinker Bell. I have a short attention span, but I’m not heartless.
I can’t speak for my brother, but I didn’t give a flip about dancing with Indians, fighting pirates, or following ticking crocodiles. All I wanted to do was fly.