Speaking of unicorns…

…I had another wonderful day last week because I went to this:

Despite the lack of any actual unicorns (besides me that is), it was basically the culmination of all my childhood fantasies. But better. Because now I’m old enough to appreciate the awesomeness…and yet still dumb enough to believe in magic.

And it was magical.

Case in point…

I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t seen in two years!

[There’s really nothing like two thirty-something-year-old women giggling like little girls while bonding over their fondness for a cartoon unicorn and other bits of assorted geekery.]

I got to meet the wonderfully talented and kind Peter S. Beagle who signed all manner of unicorn-related paraphernalia for a whole theater full of adoring fans.

And I got to watch one of my all time favorite childhood movies on the big screen. It was epic. Even if it did kind of ruin my life by introducing my six-year-old (and fully comprehending) self to the concept of regret.

[“I am no longer like the others, for no unicorn was ever born who could regret, but now I do. I regret.”]

I hadn’t seen it in over twenty years and it was really neat to watch it with fresh eyes. And I got way more of the jokes. For instance, I never realized how Jewish-y Schmendrick is, despite the nose, the fact that he sounds like he’s straight out of Brooklyn and, well, that his name is friggin’ Schmendrick!

[“Be rary of wousing a rizard’s wrath – rousing a rizard’s – Be wary of making a magician angry!”]

Molly Grue made me cry just as much as she did when I was a little girl. Maybe more…

[” Where have you been? Damn you! Where have you been?…Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Where were you when I was new? When I was one of those innocent young maidens you always come to? How dare you! How dare you come to me now, when I am this!”]

And as an adult I was able to recognize all of the celebrity voices, like…

Robert Klein

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Angela Lansbury

   and Christopher Lee

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But I think the best part was getting to hear Jeff Bridges – The Big Lebowski – The Dude himself – singing a love song to Mia Farrow…

I squeed a little.

Okay, a lot.

Peter S. Beagle has written a lot of great lines, but for my money, this is the best one:

“There are no happy endings, because nothing ends.”

Dear Peter,

Thanks for creating such a beautiful story and a wonderful film and for bringing it back to the big screen! Oh, and for signing all my stuff. I promise not to sell it on eBay. If you ever get that live action film idea off the ground, I’d like to play either the drunken skeleton or the pirate cat. Think you could see your way to getting me a screen test?

Your friend,

Sarah