The Pooh Thread

One of my fondest childhood memories is the three of us brothers snuggling up to our mother on the living room couch and being read the Pooh stories. For all of her faults, my mother was more than able to breathe life into the characters of those tales like Mel Blanc did for the Loony Toons. The tales of Pooh, Owl, Piglet, Kanga, Roo and (perhaps my favorite) Tigger were a delight rarely surpassed in adult life.

As a thrift shop junkie I can atterst to one simple fact that points to the enduring popularity of Milne’s stories. In my twenty-plus years of haunting the second hand shops I have found all of three of the original hardbound editions that date from my childhood. I take this as a sure indicator of how unwilling people are to let go of such treasured childhood icons. We’ll not go into what an abomination Disney managed to make of these works. Such material is better suited for the Pit.

Several years ago, I had a business partner with five (count them, five) children. My love of kids demanded that I should bring the Pooh stories to their house and read them to the children at bedtime. Only then did I realize the immense effort my mother made in narrating the stories to us. As skilled of an orator that I might be, as capable of an impressionist that I hope I am, it was more than a little challenging to recreate all of the voices for the characters involved. Remembering to separate Piglet’s squeaky, high pitched semi-nasal tone from the more thoughtful utterances of Owl was hard enough. To maintain the vapid vocalizations of Pooh (a bear of very little brain) whilst avoiding any confusion with the droning monologues of Eeyore was even more difficult.

Let’s share our own remembrances of Pooh and Milne’s works. Who was your favorite character? Which was your favorite story? What was your favorite plot device? So many wonderful memories await us in this walk down memory lane!

First of all, let me again mention that “poohpah” was derived from “Pooh,” which is what Mrs. Chalupa calls me.

When I was but a wee child, my mother, unbeknowest to me, ordered a Winnie the Pooh from Sears. When it arrived in the mail, she opened the box and pulled out a Piglet. Not knowing it was supposed to be a Pooh, I was simply delighted to be getting a gift in the middle of the year (being from a poor family, I rarely got any toys, especially anything new [I’m the youngest in my family].) Mom gave me a choice: Keep Piglet or send him back and wait for Pooh. The “bird-in-the-hand” philosophy almost got me, but finally, I relented and sent Piglet back. My heart broke for little Piglet as he went back in the box. Felt guilt for days until Pooh arrived.

I still have him, probably my oldest surviving possession from my youth. Pretty battered from a bath my sister and I gave him (we hung him to dry over a vent for three days…he got pretty “crispy”). No shirt. And he’s lost his original eyes. But he’s still in one piece.

As far as memories…we used to play Poohsticks in Bear Creek in Medford, Oregon growing up (again, having very little money). And I seem to recall Heffalumps not being a Disney creation, but I’m not altogether certain…but an image of Pooh and Piglet tracking Heffalumps in a circle illustrated by Shephard floats around in my head.
“House on Pooh Corner” was first read to me by my first grade teacher, Miss Hardy. And it was the first book I bought my nephew Stephen, when he was little.

Good thread.

My daughter is becoming a Pooh fan. He’s big here in China. I just got the original book, and we’ve had a set of basic (counting, colors, etc.) indistructable Pooh books for a few months.

I just saw a Pooh winter oversuit suit yesterday. Going to have to go back and pick it up, then there will be a Pooh with a China bambina face running around.

Strange thing is that I can’t remember reading Pooh books when I was a kid, and I was a real avid reader.

It’s all right China Guy, I know how hard it is to eat honey with chopsticks.

My favourite pooh story is the one where Kanga and Roo enter the forest. Rabit was just a few degrees away from using the word “nigger” to describe the strangers, and it was that moment that all the underlying themes of adult foibles suddenly jumped out to the forefront. I reread that story two or three more times before progressing to the next one, and all the time I kept thinking that I knew people who should be forced to read the book.

More than anything, I simply like Milne’s ability to communicate an idea. The reason, I believe, his stories were so short is because he could sum up a world of ideas in a single phrase.

The best example I can think of, poorly paraphrased as well, is a description of Tigger: “Whenever you were going somewhere he was bounding in front, and when you finally got there he was nowhere in sight.”

Lesser authors would’ve turned that into a large paragrah, at least, to convey the same idea.

P.S. The first time I ever read the stories was less than a full year ago. I brought them with me to college.

This year is the 75th anniversary of Winnie-the-Pooh. I have not yet read A.A. Milne’s wonderful books, but I hope to someday. Happy birthday, Pooh.

Okay, here’s my Pooh story.

A good friend of mine was sick and in the hospital. I go to visit him, and I say, “What would make you feel better?”

He goes, “I want to be read to. Winnie-the-Pooh. Jackie (his mother) always did that.”

I grimaced mentally. I never liked Pooh; never had it read to me, etc. However, this guy was pretty sick.

I knew I’d never find a Pooh book in that crazy house of his, and I didn’t have time to look, so I go to the local bookstore and get a copy. I go back to the hospital the next day and sit down and start reading to him, making up the voices, etc.

I happened to look up at the machine that monitors vitals while I was reading, and he was actually stabilizing while I read. Soon, I had to go, but I left the book, with instructions for the next visitor to read to him too.

He died about a week later. I get a call from a close friend of his, with a request to read a selection from (you guessed it) Winnie-the-Pooh at his funeral. It was the part at the end where Christopher Robin is leaving the forest.

I say sure, I’ll do it.

This was going to be a big funeral, lots of people, etc.

Well, I’m late (as usual) to the funeral, and by the time I sneak into the church, the place in the service where I’m supposed to have read has come and gone. I check the bulletin, and yup, my name is in there, but I hadn’t been there to read. Oops.

Well, we all cracked up at the wake later, because this guy had never been on time to anything in his life either, and somehow my tardiness, the fact that I didn’t like Pooh in the first place, the fact that he had liked Pooh so much all sort of fit together. Or maybe we were all just plastered.

I like Pooh better now, though.

The thought of Winnie-the-Pooh is such a comforting one.

Ever since 1987, whenever I think of Winnie-the-Pooh I have thought of Jessica McClure. [sub]should I put a link here for those who may not know who she is, nah…you can look her up on Google if you need to[/sub] I remember watching the news and hearing her little voice singing Winnie-the-Pooh, Winnie-the-Pooh…

Most recently though, while traveling across Canada, I learned about the inspiration behind Milne’s creation.

The stories of Lt. Harry Colebourn and Winnie-the-Bear and of Milne taking his son Christopher Robin to the zoo have touched my heart.

Of the four statues that have been erected worldwide in honor of Winnie, I have seen 2. I have seen both of the ones located in Canada. I saw the one erected in 1992 at the Zoo in Winnipeg, Manitoba and the one in White River, Ontario. Now, I will just have to take a trip to London so that I can see the two there.

Fans of Pooh should be sure to visit the Donnell branch of the NY Public Library when they are next in New York City. On display are the original stuffed animals owned by A. A. Milne’s son.

There is a little picture of them here:
http://www.nypl.org/branch/kids/pooh/winnie.html

I dare you to go and not have one teeny tiny fantasy, just for a moment, about nonchalantly reaching into the display case and taking one home.

I can not date a woman who likes pooh, I think it says a lot about their personality.

Oh bother…

Tigger rules. I have a Tigger wristwatch.

I’m wearing a Pooh shirt as I type this.

I LOVE Pooh. Pooh, and Tigger, and little Roo, Kanga, Rabbit, Eyore and Owl.

I even like the sappy Kenny Loggins, Amy Grant song, “Return to Pooh Corner”

Help me if you can I’ve gotta get
back to the House at Pooh Corner by One
You’d be surprised there’s so much to be done
Count all the bees in the hive
Chase all the clouds from the sky
Back to the Days of Christopher Robin and Pooh

I mean, COME ON, it’s about POOH! My favorites are the classic Pooh cartoons from Disney.

Also, I had a Pooh musical toy-still do-that when you pulled a string, it played the Silly Ol’ Bear song. But when my sister was little, our suckass next door neighbor came over and BROKE IT. Bitch.

(and now she and her family are a bunch of crack whores who were kicked out of their house because they defaulted on their mortage.)

I have a Tigger tattoo.

I have a large collection of Winnie-thePooh figurines–all the characters, (the Shepard versions, very few of the Disney renditions are palatable), plus stuffed animals, a hooked rug, a framed print, pillows, a bedspread, pins, hairclips, and the books in several incarnations, including the Latin version. I started collecting when I was about 30. Some of the stuff is meant for kids, but most of it is aimed at adults–you don’t buy Lennox porcelain for your toddler! It’s not an overwhelming collection (in part because it’s spread through the house), but it does make wherever I’m living into my home.

I don’t ever remember not knowing Winnie and all his friends, it was a set of books that I grew up with. I remeber the first time I saw a Disney version, because I hated it. I eventually reconciled to the original animated movies (I do love the voice of Pooh and Tigger), but I dislike everything Disney has done that is not directly taken from the original stories.

When I was in law school, as I drove to campus to take exams the Kenny Loggins’ song mentioned by Guinastasia played on the tape deck, as it did as I went to take the Bar exams. I turned to it again after September 11–the song and all the memories of the Hundred Acre Woods are a source of comfort to me, and a calming influence. Easily one of the best song ever!

Winnie will forever float above my left ankle hanging onto a purple baloon. In New Orleans I was standing next to the river watching the big boats when I felt something on my leg. It was a little kid, about 2 yrs. old touching my leg like it was something magical - it was great!

(Emphasis added by me.)

I just have to say … there’s something disturbing about someone who can work those three particular words/phrases into a conversation about Pooh.

:D:D:D

I have a soft spot for Pooh … a girl I was crazy about for a while considered me the “Pooh” to her “Piglet” (Yes, I know Piglet is a boy in the stories. But it worked for us.)

Plus the quotes are great. There’s one about friendship … which I cannot remember completely. But it’s something about Piglet saying, “Pooh?” Pooh replies, “Yes, Piglet?”

To which Piglet replies, “Nothing, Pooh; just making sure of you.”

(Again, terribly paraphrased. But it’s something like that.)

And I remember being read the Pooh stories by my 4th grade teacher on my Dad’s Army base while we were still in Germany.

She too had the talent for the voices, just as your Mom did, and I fell in love with my teacher, because I just knew she was reading the stories just for me.

Quasi

I do have some Pooh stuff, but only the “Classic Pooh” line…can’t stand the Disney abonimation.

I love Eeyore losing his tail, and also the Heffalumps (NOT a Disney creation, it’s in the original). I own a copy of Winnie ille Pu, which is the Latin translation…terribly funny, even if you’ve only had a few years of it. I’ve always had a fondness for Eeyore and Piglet.

I always liked Milne’s poems…in particular, the one about James James Morrison Morrison (something something) Dupree who wouldn’t let his mother go downtown without him and the one where the king wants a bit of butter for his bread.

Used to play poohsticks all the time, as there was a small footbridge in the park near my house.

I’m rather fond of The Tao of Pooh and The Te of Piglet, although the bookstores can’t agree on whether they belong in humor (yes) or Eastern Religious Studies (yes).

All I can say to that is Tiddley pom.

James James
Morrison Morrison
Wetherby George DuPree
Took great
Care of his mother
Though he was only three.
James James
Said to his mother,
“Mother,” he said, said he,
“You must never go down to the end of the town
Without consulting ME!”

Can you tell I’m a devotee?

Looking forward to passing on this particular obsession to the Hypothetical Baby Porpentines – hopefully not in the next couple of years, though.