The other day Matt was listening to the Leeds version of "Tommy" while laying down our new floor in the living room. John (who recently identified Iron Maiden's "Powerslave" as his favorite album du jour) was twitching around saying "Is this 'Pinball Wizard'? Is this one? Is this 'Pinball Wizard' yet?"
Matt told me that a couple weeks ago he had watched part of "Tommy" and John was blown away by the part where Tommy smashes the mirror, freeing himself from his self-imposed internal exile. Which is good, because it means he wasn't blown away by the part of Ann-Margret rolling around in baked beans.
Anyway, as John was bouncing around like a subatomic particle, the mirror-smashing bit came on. "John, this is it! He's smashing the mirror!"
John stopped jittering. "Is it 'Pinball Wizard'?"
"NO, it's the part where he smashes the mirror, and he can see and hear and talk again."
"OH! OH! OH! If only Helen Keller had had a mirror! Then she could have smashed it and then she could see and hear again!"
I stepped in as the voice of reason. "John, you know that's not how that works." I prepared a small speech on the virtues and weaknesses of allegory, but he cut me off.
"I KNOW, Mom," he said, laughing like crazy and twirling in place. "It's just a FANTASY."