No, I’m not referring to the story by the same name. But the title is always one I’ve appreciated, since it rings so close to home. It’s the reason I chose the illustration I did for the header graphic, and I figured it would be a good title for my story.
It all started one fateful trip to Disneyland, when my mother had left me in the care of my sister and her friend. I don’t know why. I think she wanted to ride Star Tours. I, on the other hand, wanted to ride Pirates of the Caribbean again. However, my sister and her friend wanted to ride Splash Mountain.
Now, I was at the tender age of 6 (or was it 7?), and had not quite conquered my fear of the Big Kid Rides. I had Thunder Mountain under my belt, but everything else was just too scary. Especially Splash Mountain, with that huge drop that seemed to go straight down. I don’t know exactly what else I imagined happening on it, but it likely was just dark caverns in which the logs zipped up and down equally scary hills. I would have none of that.
However, my caretakers were determined, and tried to convince me to give it a try. At last, after my persistent denial, they seemed to concede, and told me that instead we would go ride a different Pirates of the Caribbean. Curious, I agreed to this.
It was not until we were well in line that I realized I had been tricked, and were actually about to board Splash Mountain. In retrospect, I see how appropriate this is, considering the ride is centered around the King of Tricksters. I attempted to protest, but my sister convinced me to just suck it up and give it a try.
Of course, I loved it. You can imagine my surprise when we first entered the ride building, and there were singing animals. Singing animals! And it was bright and colorful! Nothing like I had envisioned at all. Not only that, but the dreaded drop really wasn’t that scary at all. In fact, it was actually… fun. I loved it so much, I dragged my mother back on it later that night. The second time around was when I finally noticed it revolved around a particular rabbit.
After I went home, I dug out the Zip-Ah-Dee-Doo-Dah Sing-A-Long tape I had, since I recognized the song on the attraction as being from it. I noticed, too, that the same rabbit was there at the end. My mother explained to me it all had come from a movie, Song of the South – but unfortunately, it wasn’t available. I was disappointed, but hoped they would release it soon.
Later, I would discover The Wonderful Tar Baby Story in a copy of Disney’s Story Land. I would also find the other songs on two other Sing-A-Long compilations. Slowly, I was beginning to piece things together. In another Disney book, I found De Wull-er-de-Wust, my first exposure to the idea of there being stories beyond what I saw on Splash Mountain.
By fourth grade, infatuation had given way to full blown love. Another trip to Disneyland that year I had gotten the Brer Rabbit plush that would soon become the Hobbes to my Calvin. In my school library, I would finally discover the original tales as adapted by Margaret Wise Brown. Though I still held hope for Song of the South’s release, I could hold myself over with these.
I grew older, but never grew out of my love for Brer Rabbit and his stories. In my early teens, I started the first version of this website, Brer Rabbit Stew. I have often wondered why I never out-grew these stories, but I think the answer is simply that they’re so multi-layered, they’re enjoyable for any age. The older I get, the more I understand the symbolism contained in them; they also somehow became even funnier as an adult.
But I think Uncle Remus himself puts it best: “Ef dez yer tales wuz des fun, fun, fun, en giggle, giggle, giggle, I’d a-done drapt um long ago.” As I’ve grown older, I’ve understood that there is so much depth to these stories. They deserve to be preserved and studied; most of all, they still deserve to be appreciated.
As you can guess, I was more than happy to volunteer.
