I’m a baby of the 80s, which means that exposure to Disney movies that happened to have blatantly racist scenes was not unheard of for my generation; This includes the Disney classic Dumbo. When “Baby of Mine” begins in Dumbo, I cry just as hard as I do when Mufasa dies in The Lion King. At times, these are physically painful experiences.
Anyway, Mark and I celebrated my new office tonight. I’m not drunk by any standard (again, I’m trying to keep tabs on my alcohol intake since my surgery), but I do get what I call “pink elephant hiccups” from time to time. Like, now. No one ever seems to know what I’m talking about. so I’m going to fix that.
There’s a scene in Dumbo where he and the mouse accidentally drink from a keg. The mouse floats around in cartoony hiccup bubbles for quite a bit until Dumbo is apparently dosed with acid or something (it can’t possibly be alcohol) and hallucinates the following nighmare-inducing musical number:
So, whenever I get celebratory hiccups, I call them “pink elephant hiccups.”
… The more you know?