The Man I Loved When I was Twelve

So, I was channel surfing last weekend, and came across the movie Rocky IV. Having not seen it for a long time (and by long time I mean since I was a kid and they were released) I had to watch.

Yes, I admit it. At twelve, I was totally in love with Rocky Balboa. Or, well, you know, crushing on him, at least. (Ladies, don’t tell me you weren’t in love with him, too. I know better.)

As I watched the movie as an adult, and as an author, I saw things in this show that I never noticed as a kid. For instance, as a young girl, I couldn’t have told you why I loved Rocky, except that he was good-looking and had rock-hard abs, and he was tough. And even when he was a jerk to the people who loved him, I cheered for him because, well, he was Rocky Balboa.

But the truth (as now recognized) is that the reason the Rocky movies did so well is because Rocky Balboa is a character with which everyone could identify. He was the underdog. The uneducated. The poor boy from the wrong side of town who had the determination of a Pitbull and the heart of a lion. And we loved him because by the end of the story, not only had he grown and progressed exponentially, but he—the consummate David—fought his giant Goliath and won. He won.

It didn’t matter who he fought. Apollo. Mister T. Ivan Drago (that scary Russian guy). Rocky Balboa always worked his tail off, running, training, conditioning, and then he defied the odds and won.

Looking back at my own fascination for the Rocky movies, I had a light bulb moment. I loved them because of what the story was about. It’s about a guy who worked and worked and worked and worked, and never gave up, no matter what happened, and eventually, he succeeded.

And as an adult, I still believe that’s possible.

What about you? Do you believe working hard is the surest path to success?

Holiday Favorites, Part III

Tis the season of family togetherness. (Read: Fighting, bickering, arguing.) And I know there are a whole bunch of activities that will help bring the holiday spirit home. (And if that doesn’t work, there’s always duct tape.)

I think playing, eating, and even watching TV together can be a good thing, even if needed in small doses. But there’s nothing like a good holiday story to change the tone and restore peace among men (or children, as the case may be).

Today’s topic: Holiday Stories

1. The Nativity (Isn’t that a given?)
2. T’was the Night Before Christmas.

3. The Snow Tree (on my kids insistence—because the pages are texturized, I guess.)

4. You Are Special (not just a holiday story, but one we love, just the same.)

5. The Polar Express

And on my personal TBR list this season:

1. The Christmas List by Richard Paul Evans

See that list up there? It’s woefully short. And yeah, I have plenty of books on my to be read list, but still. I want to know what other fabulous holiday books are out there. So spill. What’s your favorite holiday story?

Oh, Holiday Parties, You Do Rocketh

You know what else I love about December? Despite the massive amounts of extra housework that comes with putting up and taking down holiday decorations, and with having the kids home from school tracking mud and slush onto my floors, and leaving dishes all over the place, no one really complains about helping.

Maybe it’s because they figure Santa is coming so they should be good. Or maybe they just really want extra money so they can go to movies or out with friends. But mostly I think we’re all just in a better mood all the way around. And we spend time together.

And it isn’t just my little family. December brings with it a plethora of opportunities to visit extended family, coworkers, friends, and other people with whom we associate but don’t very often see socially. Even better, though, if we don’t have an invitation to visit someone, we have the opportunity to extend an invitation for others to come visit us.

In case you didn’t put those two things together, let me help you. Kids + housework= party with friends / family/ other misc people we like. And it’s usually not even a fight to put together.

Huh. Go figure.

Yet another thing I love about December. What possible gathering do you most look forward to this season? How do you know the people with whom you’ll socialize and when was the last time you saw them?

My Childhood Hero: Nancy Drew

When I was in grade school, I was a big fan of the Nancy Drew mystery series. I think I’ve already established that I was something of a bookworm, and I loved all books. But whenever I saved up enough babysitting money to take a trip to the bookstore in the mall, I always spent my money on Nancy Drew.

Looking back, I’m not sure why, because I don’t think it was the mysteries I loved, although I always liked solving a puzzle. I enjoyed the suspense and danger, but the thing I remember most about that particular series was the shy romance between Nancy and Ned. That’s what got me every time. (Mind you, I was young and books then weren’t what they are now. Now romance is better. Way better.)

You know what else? When I look deeper, I think Nancy kind of had a Boy Scout kind of thing going on. Seriously, the woman was always prepared. Right? She kept a change of clothes in her car—which was good, because she always needed them. And she always had her eyes open and noticed the little details that would clue her in about something that would later solve the big mystery better than the grown-up detectives. So, I liked that she, the kid, was solving the mystery by herself. When she needed information, she always knew exactly who to call or how to get it. So, yeah. That’s another thing I liked about her. Nancy Drew was a female version of a Boy Scout.

And yes, before you ask, I read some Hardy Boys as well. But there wasn’t much romance in those stories, so my heart remained loyal to Nancy and Ned.

The downside, though, was that I never felt like Nancy had any flaws. Everything about her seemed a little too perfect. She never did anything naughty or bad, and when she was with Ned, there didn’t really seem to be real temptation between them.

Correct me if I’m wrong. I haven’t read a Nancy Drew book for a long time.

This is just one more sign of how literature has changed in the past twenty or twenty-five years. What did you read as a kid and how does it differ from current popular books?