Ever Wonder What Heartache Actually Looks Like?

Well I'm here to show you the harsh, ugly truth.

BEHOLD!

I give you...

The Pinocchio Bedroom!

Why does this represent heartache? Well first off, this was MY bedroom! There's heartache when I realize there actually was a time when I DIDN'T think Disney was a monster, devoid of a heart or soul of any kind. Then there's the long-lasting, heartache left deep within my psyche since the mid 1970's.

One day, back when I was about 5 years old and living in Schaumburg, IL, I was told that not only would I be enjoying my own cool room, but it would be completely decked out in a way cool Pinocchio theme. I had window shades with Pinocchio characters, bed sheets with the Disney icons on them, a matching lamp shade & other accessories, and the most stunning feature would be these hand-painted recreations of the classic Disney artwork.

The paintings were done by my sister, Lisa. You may know her work from her most excellent Our House Crafts in Winter, WI. Long before she was painting collector's pieces on glass she was just my sister and she was polishing her skills by creating a wall for her little brother.

These poses and the frames matched the drawings perfectly and the project took some time to complete. To a kid my age, it seemed to take an eternity, when in reality it was probably more like a few weeks. As her hand were helping to make the wall mural take shape, my room was taking on a whole new life of its own and becoming the coolest kid's bedroom for miles around.

By the time it was done I had the most pimped out bedroom of any 5 year old I knew. Hell, I still wish I had a room this cool. Oddly enough I don't think there are any photos of the completed room because we were so impressed with these recreations. I've touched up the photos to remove a few years of aging and fading, but you can clearly see that this would have been one kick-ass room for a 5 year old kid.

About a minute and a half after the pain on the wall dried, we sold our house and moved to Marengo, Il. I was devastated. Seriously, it was like being given The FULL-SIZE G.I. Joe with the Kung-Fu Grip for your birthday and having it immediately taken away and returned, the money being used for a fucking Care Bear or a GODDAMN Rainbow Brite for the neighbor's ugly, freckled daughter.

I'm not altogether sure just how long I got to live in my room, but to a kid my age, the time flew by in an instant. I'm certain the work has been LONG since painted over, or even worse...covered in wallpaper!

My next bedroom, while odd in shape (The roof of the house shaped the interior of my room) and reasonably cool, was NOT the same at all. Sure, I turned 6 soon after moving to Marengo and didn't give a rat's ass about Pinocchio anymore, but I never had a cool room again. At least nothing that cool.

In fact, my next bedroom was about as annoying as you could get, if not pathetically patriotic. It was completely red, white, and blue, with American flag bed sheets and matching curtains. The blue was the REALLY blue and dominated the walls. It was alright and I did get to enjoy my own room, but it kinda sucked ass.

Heartache. Pure & eternal heartache. Maybe it's gas, I don't know for sure.