I’ve wanted to write this post for a long time. In fact, I did write half of it–and my computer suddenly shut down. So here I am starting over. *grunt *
I would like to talk about one of my favorite characters of all time, Morticia Addams. For those of you that know me, you know my deep affection for The Addams Family. I watched the TV show when I was a kid, and I can quote the 1991 film verbatim. To me, the Addams was a TV family that I actually wanted to be in. As a girl, I identified with Wednesday Addams and often went to bed crossing my arms over my chest like she did in the film. For realz, ask my grandmother.
If my Communications degree taught me anything, it’s that people often associate their real life desires based on things they see in the media. Most girls begin their romantic expectations with the classic Disney Princess. You know, their princes ride in on a white horse and whisk them away to live happily ever after. As girls got a bit older they began playing house and pretending to be June Cleaver. Mitt Romney will tell you, the “traditional” American woman should crave white picket fences and flexible work hours. The thing is, I don’t identify with Martha Stewart. Yes, I’d love to have a husband and a family…but not in such uniform terms.
As I got older, I began to realize that Morticia Addams is my Disney Princess. Of all the fictional mothers on television, being Morticia Addams was the only one I can see myself identifying with. The whole schtick of The Addams Family was that people would react to them so strongly, and The Addams would act as if nothing was wrong with them. Know why? Cause they’re wasn’t. When you get down to it, the Addams were ultimately good people. I remember salesmen would enter the Addams household and as they had a heart attack looking at the shit on the walls, Gomez would be politely offering them a drink before they sat down to talk business. Morticia also loved participating in charitable events that benefited the community. If people would’ve stopped freaking the fuck out for one minute they would’ve realized the Addams were amazing neighbors.
The Addams as a family acted as a consistent family unit. They have a rich history, and strong convictions. When Fester returned home after being stranded in The Bermuda Triangle the family was suspicious, but they never turned their backs on him. The Addams were a family you could always come home to, and would always have your back.
Gomez might’ve been the head of the household, but Morticia was the quiet queen. She never raised her temper and she always spoke the truth. As a mother, she was always there to make sure her children made the right decisions–although every once in awhile she folded. No matter what, Morticia loved her kids. In Addams Family Values, Gomez and Morticia had to deal with the thought of raising a future Republican. Did she turn her back on the baby? No! She knew her life would change dramatically, but she would still love and care for that baby. Morticia’s commitment to her children is a great example for any aspiring mother.
Last, but certainly not least– is one of the biggest reasons I want my life to be like Morticia’s… and his name is Gomez Addams. Sure, he’s an eccentric madman who has no concept of reality, but his massive wealth masks his insanity pretty well. The real reason I love Gomez, is because he is madly in love with Morticia. Better yet, he adores Morticia. Gomez and Morticia have the ideal long-term relationship. They only have eyes for one another, they still manage to have fun now and then, and they have the kinkiest sex. They have managed to keep the passion alive after years together, three kids, and live-in in-laws. Who doesn’t want that kind of relationship?
I think before I can carry out any of my Morticia related dreams I need to find my Gomez. No, I don’t mean find a little rich dude with a mustache. I mean find my own unique counterpart who adores me so I can stand by him a create a little unique (probably gothic) home. Just because I look unconventional doesn’t mean I don’t want conventional things. It just means I want to do it my own macabre way.
…and of course with a little bondage thrown in every here and there…
P.S. Don’t even mention Lilly Munster….that bitch didn’t have class.