Agoraphobics Hollywood Style. (That means rich.)

I just finished watching a charming little film about a little girl alone on an island after her father takes a tiny little sail boat off in seek of a new scientific discovery. Daddy gets hit with a monsoon and the story begins.

Nim, the little girl, then begins an email friendship with her favorite author, Alex Rover a.k.a. Jodie Foster. Nim has mistaken Alex for the adventurer that Alex writes about by the same name in her famous books. When Alex figures out that Nim is a little girl and not the scientist’s research assistant, she conquers her agoraphobia and traipses off across the globe in search of rescuing Nim from the South Pacific.

What? Are you kidding me?

No, I’m dead serious. With the help of her imaginary hero, also the famed adventurer of whom she herself created, she beats agoraphobia.

I have a number of imaginary friends and frankly, they are more afraid of the world than I am. They prefer the Island in my mind to all the islands out in the big blue. Although, I have to admit, the island in my mind is much cooler than the ones out there.

Has anyone else noticed Hollywood’s recent obsession with agoraphobia. Ever notice how all the agoraphobics out there are little, albeit perkier, versions of Howard Hughes? Am I being unfair. “I think not!” she said earnestly. I mean how about we see an agoraphobic facing the holidays. Let’s see one faced with the monthly shopping on a fixed income. The internet is not a cheap place to bug groceries, not to mention skivvies.

Face it folks, doctors do not make house calls. People are not understanding or compassionate for more than a few days at a time. At the end of these artistic portrayals the afflicted soul is always seen jutting their chin up toward the sky, bathing their no longer pale faces in the sunshine and all is right with the world.

Oh shut up. I know I’m being too sensitive, it’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to.

I just wish Hollywood would right a script for me I guess. The handsome scientist might be too much to wish for though. A handsome cattle rancher on an island? That would work, don’t ya think? I can see it now: the two of us and a horse and cow and a dog and some chickens and a colony of cats….oops….sorry about that. I’m back.

Wait a minute? Does a handsome scientist on an isolated island in the shadow of a volcano mean she’s been set free? It doesn’t. It’s an agoraphobics paradise.

Hmph. In that case, thank you Hollywood for making my dreams come true for a change. I think I may have a shot now. Now all I have to do is come up with a successful line of books and start emailing single scientists for answers, I mean single cowboys. Cowboya that own lots and lots of cattle that they would never dream of selling for meat. He wouldn’t be a vegetarian of course, I like men who like protein. But I don’t want to kill our pets. Oh well…maybe we could keep the ones for eatin on another island.