SCENE: Our Tahoe on a drive to Austin for my regional Wine Consultant meeting. Discussion has turned to Christ’s call for us to be “light of the world” and “salt of the earth,” about which I was giggling over something I’d read about how we’re NOT called to be the Veruca Salt of the world.

HUBSTER: Who is Veruca Salt?

ME: You know. From Willy Wonka.

HUBSTER: What’s that?

ME: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? The movie?

HUBSTER: I’ve never seen that movie.

ME: Gene Wilder? Oompa Loompas? Augustus Gloop falling in the chocolate river? Veruca Salt, the bitchy little girl? THAT movie.

HUBSTER: I’m not kidding, baby. I’ve never seen it.

*several minutes of silence*


HUBSTER: Lis, it’s a movie.

ME: *turning to window* I feel like I just found out you’re in the KGB.

So, we get home and a few days later, Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory comes on TV. (Four friends messaged me to let me know. Thank you, Facebook.) I poured a glass of red, grabbed a longneck from the fridge, and settled in with the Hubster to watch. (Yes, I KNOW it’s Valentines Day. Don’t judge our love.) I was giddy with the notion that, although I could recite the entire movie backwards and forwards, the Hubster was seeing it FOR THE FIRST TIME, y’all! Oh, the anticipation! It was like I was seeing it with his fresh, virgin eyes!

Here are some of his observations:

1. Why are the grandparents all in the bed together? Don’t you think Grandpa George could reach under the covers and try to feel up Grandma Josephine? Do you think Grandpa Joe or Grandma Georgina would mind? Maybe they’re having a thing, too. I mean, they could ALL be getting jiggy under those covers, which is why they never leave the bed. I wouldn’t either. Lis, I’m going to just stay in bed with you all the time when I get old. Get ready, woman.

2. I know Charlie’s poor and stuff, but damn. Brush your hair, dawg.

3. Willy Wonka is probably in the mafia. They should just leave him alone or somebody is going to get whacked. This movie would suck less if there were wiseguys.

4. Dude. Mike TeeVee looks like one of my t-ball players from back in the day. He could hit.

5. Is it me, or were microphones giant in the 70s?

6. Singing, Lis? REALLY?

*Hubster goes to get another beer from the fridge at this point.*

7. The Candy Man guy looks like a child molester.

(It’s at this point that I realize how thick my blinders have been for this movie because Candy Man looks very child-molest-y with his beady eyes and bowtie and all that throwing candy at kids.)

8. Oh, OF COURSE, the Mexican kid is the one who faked a golden ticket. This movie is racist, Lis. How can you love this movie?

9.  Oh, so NOW Grandpa Joe can get out of bed and dance. I call BS, Lis. He’s a slacker.

10. Mira. Charlie didn’t even brush his hair for the trip to the factory.

11. Only white kids got a golden ticket. RACIST, Lis.

12.  This Veruca chick needs a smack.

13. The fat kid is always the first to go. But I guess drowning in chocolate is a good way to go.

14.  I’m glad I didn’t watch this movie as a kid. Oompa-Loompas are scary, Lis. They have hands like raccoons. *jazz hands*

15. I can’t stand when a kid smacks gum. I hope this girl…oh, they’re gonna blow this one up? Cool.

16. Those golden eggs are probably filled with heroin. Didn’t anyone figure out that this whole movie is about drugs and smart-ass white kids?

There were a few other observations by the Hubster, many of which made me see the movie through his eyes and catch nuances I’d missed in previous viewings. (How many of you noticed that the seats in the vehicles would dwindle each time? Methinks WW knew damn well those kids were going to shit the bed as the tour went on.)

All of this doesn’t exactly prove that WWATCF is a classic, but I still feel strongly that one’s childhood is lacking in a certain element of awesomeness if it’s been missed. Don’t delay. Watch it soon!