Follow the Yellow Brick Road: My Family As the Wizard of Oz

I love the The Wizard of Oz. In my opinion, it is one of the greatest movies of all time. I can’t help but notice some very eerie similarities to people in my own life. A man looking for a brain, a heart, some courage, and me lost wondering, how the hell can I get home? So follow the yellow brick road with me, and see if any these people sound familiar to you, too.

The Wicked Witch of the East
This is my Aunt Kathy. This bitch from hell was so evil; we never even got to meet her. All you ever see are her legs and those fabulous shoes of hers hanging out from underneath that house. How did that evil witch get such a kick ass pair of shoes? And what in the hell was she thinking wearing those slamming shoes with those hideous black and white striped tights? I wish a house would fall on my aunt. The problem is if a house landed on my bitch of an aunt my mother would show up in a big black cloud of smoke and blame me for it! 

The Wicked Witch of the West
This is my mother because she is deathly afraid of water. Come to think of it, I don’t ever think I have seen my mom wet! Typical sister behavior, a house falls on your sister and kills her and all you give a shit about are her shoes! I have been convinced for years the Wicked Witch of the West was my mom. I distinctly remember her locking me in a tower and saying, “I’ll get you my pretty and your little dog, too!” My mom always has a broom no matter where she is, she has monkeys all over her house, and whenever she shows up bad shit happens. Then she disappears in a cloud of smoke.

Glenda the Good Witch
This is my sister Heather. She is very pretty, but she just doesn’t look right in a dress! If you look closer I think good ole Glenda might have an Adam’s apple. The funny thing about my sister is the more you dress her up the worse she looks. Something about Glenda screams cross-dresser. It could be that deep voice, the way she hangs out with all those little munchkins (fag hags), or maybe it’s that huge crown! Either way I am betting that Glenda has more than one wand, if you know what I mean?

The Scarecrow
This is my younger cousin Michael. Ahh … if he only had a brain! He is just hanging around waiting for somebody to get him down and tell him where to go and what to do! He is only comfortable in groups. He hangs out in the corn so nobody will bother him and I am positive if you lift up his shirt straw would fall out. The scarecrow seems like a trusting friend that you can lean on, but at the first sign of fire he heads back to the corn to hide.

The Tinman
My Uncle Robbie is the Tinman. He just can’t function without the sauce. In fact he won’t even get out of bed without a swig from his can. He has been looking for love in all the wrong places, and lost his heart many years ago. You can tell he is related to my mother because neither one of them can function properly if they ingest liquid. There is something about this silver rusty guy that tugs at my heartstrings. I am sure we would have been great friends if he had a heart and was not addicted to that damn oil can!

The Cowardly Lion
This is my Uncle Roy. If courage could be bought he would have it in spades! He is all talk and no action. Much like the Cowardly Lion his mouth is always writing checks his ass can’t cash. All though he is fuzzy and sometimes sweet, he often runs away from responsibility with his tail shoved between his legs crying.

The Wizard Of Oz 
My father is the Wizard of Oz. He is standing behind the green curtain running the whole show. I often wondered what was going on back there? The Scarecrow, Tinman, and the Cowardly Lion all came to him for help, and the Wicked Witches were just jealous of his power! If you ask the Wizard of Oz what he wants, it’s simple: he just wants the witch’s broom! So go get it for him so he will grant your wish!

Dorothy  
I am Dorothy. I am trapped in Oz with these sweet ass shoes on just looking for my way back home! There are flying monkeys, cross-dressing witches, dancing munchkins, trees throwing apples at me, and a great man behind a curtain whose counsel I seek. How the hell did I get here and when can I leave? There’s no place like home … there’s no place like home … there’s no place like home.

7 readers liked this story.
From Around the Web:
02.26.2009
Kristi Stevens
very clever :-)
It feels good to write.

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