But...Oh...

Do you have a moment in your childhood that you recall so vividly you could direct a scene of it in a movie? Hopefully all of us have many of those.

One of mine is when my mom came home with a surprise for me.  Standing in the dining room she handed me the DOUBLE album of Grease!  It was not my birthday or any holiday, she just gave it to me. Memory being what it is I had probably nagged her for weeks to get it for me; conveniently I do not recall doing this. Just my mom walking in with something behind her back and handing it to me.

Immediately we put it on.  my kitchen chairs became bleachers, the carpet in the living room became the beach, the sofa of course was a car.

I sang my heart out to learn every single song.  I pined and sighed looking at the album (the inside was full of pictures like a yearbook).

In my head I was there.  I hand jived, I was left at the drive in, there were worse things I could do.  I loved them all.  Well, especially Rizzo.  Much like Danny being the "bad boy" Rizzo was the "bad girl".

Recently I had the pleasure of watching a new rendition of Grease with a few of my kids.  They had seen the movie as young children, and now we replicated that moment adding wine and cheese.  I was dubious, but it was great.

About a year ago I entered into a discussion about the movie with a friend.  She hated it.  Said it was sexist. Pointed out how Sandy had to change for him, pointed out lyrics ("Did she put up a fight"), pointed out how Danny was an asshole until he saw Sandy with teased hair and sewn on pants, and numerous other atrocities of the film that make it bad for young girls to see.

Huh.

Fortunately, I had a backup that still remains my favorite movie. Gone With the Wind. Again, in some debate over movies my friend could not believe I would say this.  Scarlett is a manipulative bitch, and Rhett offers nothing for her.

WHAT?!

I could use the argument (and did) that Scarlett and Rhett were identical in their actions, with the exception of Rhett being more polite to all ladies.

Danny was conflicted the entire movie and went out of his way to change as well (he did letter in track).

I reminded my friend it was a certain era for both movies, set in a different time.  I may not have been consciously aware of this when I was a child watching Scarlett flirt with the Tarleton twins, or steal two husbands.

I may not have (yet) known a pregnancy scare like Riz.  Even Kenickie tried lamely to do "the right thing". Did Riz accept?  No.  She said she would handle it.

Why didn't Rhett notice how happy Scarlett was after he carried her up those stairs? Some would call that rape. Others would find it a Fifty Shades of Grey moment.

We did not argue about the portrayal of slavery, that is just accepted in a period movie.  But my friend argued that Scarlett is was and will forever be reprehensible.

And so would Sandy.

Huh.

To me these were beautiful strong women I wanted to BE (Riz not Sandy -- I was never one to be like her in the first place.)

Does this mean I am not a feminist?  A word that over the years draws the brain to men hating, bra burning, hard women.

My kitchen chairs may have become bleachers and I may have a time or two taken on southern drawl or pouted like Scarlet to get my way, but I still believe in equal rights for women.

Should I have not shown these movies to my children?  Do they now think rape scenes in movies are okay?

(No one was raped in Grease [Rizzo gave full consent], and Scarlet may have been drunk but being swept up and carried up those hellish stairs was romantic.)

Because of Gone With the Wind I was happy to tell people I was born below just below the Mason Dixon Line, thus making me a Southern Belle, should I have chosen to be one.  Growing up in New Jersey gave me the option to be brass and brazen, again if I so chose.

If I am not a feminist because I will always swoon over these two movies, then so be it.  But to me every woman has a right to choose their own character.  It was Sandy who asked for help, it was Scarlett who made things happen.

I will always long for those summer nights; either holding a radish to the sky with determination, or holding my school books, with my head held high.