The Hills are Alive! And Alive. And Alive.

Dec 15, 2010

A Sound of Music addict lists a few of her favourite things about the movie.


73 Spring of '84, London: The author with a slightly deranged look on her face as she fantasizes about being part of the Von Trapp


I was an awful five-year-old. I refused to eat vegetables because Captain Veggie was my best imaginary friend and I had to save his veggie folk from human consumption. I broke all my mother’s lipsticks while writing my name in bright crimson red on the walls. I rubbed Vicks all over the full-length hallway mirror to create the Magic Mirror effect. Unlike most little girls who opted for Princess I was more interested in being Snow White’s Stepmother Queen and mastering The Ultimate Evil Laughter.

My parents were near nervous breakdown with my antics but they couldn’t afford a psychologist. In pure desperation, my mother decided to pop The Sound of Music into the VHS cassette player one day to get a longer reprieve from my screeching and mess-making. And what do you know? For those blissful two hours, there was finally peace in the household. I believe that if Julie Andrews had appeared at our doorway right there and then, my mother would have kissed her feet.

However, she didn’t know what agony exactly she’d unleashed for herself, because in the next three months, I had to watch The Sound of Music. Every. Single. Day. Like a Teletubby from hell, I would yelp, “Again, again!” and the maternal unit would robotically get the video cranking before I started one of my exorcist-like tantrums. Even weekends were not spared and I recall my father yelling, “Goddammit, why do we have to listen to this shit again?” and my mother would be yelling at him to stop yelling in front of a girl (me) who already liked to yell a lot. But it gets a little blurry since Mother Abbess was dispensing some wisdom about climbing every mountain at that point in the film/domestic conflict.

Having watched The Sound of Music so many times has obviously made an indelible mark on me.

Besides knowing all the lyrics to the songs and the names of the Von Trapp kids (Liesl, Louisa, Friedrich, Kurt, Brigitta, Marta and Gretl), it has taught me things that have set the foundation to how I approach life in general. In no particular order, these are the lessons I’ve learned from the musical of my childhood:




When you know a job ain’t for you, take a hike. If you can do a couple of joyful skips while you’re at it, even better.




Cycling is perfectly accompanied by the act of singing your heart out. Silent crooning in your head not counted.




Invest in a strong, sturdy bed, even if you don’t think you’re going to have seven children.




People are not naturally born bad, they choose to become bad. Case-in-point: Hot-Austrian-mailman-turned-Nazi-rogue Rolf.




It is slightly creepy watching middle-aged folk make out. Fast forward please.




This is what the inside of your head should look like every morning.


This post was originally published on New Slang in April 2010.