CREED --Hell, Yes

My whole life I've lived with the assumption that some people were made for athletics and some weren't born with that particular gene. I am one of the latter.
I was never picked first, EVER, for any kind of sport at school--due in large part to the fact that I hid behind everyone else and probably because while everyone was being chosen, I was praying to be left out. The fear of embarrassment far outweighed my desire to be chosen to play any kind of sport.
Though I enjoy the occasional football or basketball game, (preferably while I'm watching it up close) I have to say that I DO have a favorite...BOXING.
I can't tell you how many times my husband has turned to me while we are watching a fight and asked me to keep my voice down because his parents are listening. It's funny because when it comes to this sport, I lose my sense of decorum and begin screaming at the screen obscenities that might make a sailor blush. The 'f' word is a prevalent part of my vocabulary while a fight--especially a great one--is bright and shiny on my television screen.
For the most part, it is the thrill of the action, the smooth way they work against each other but always seem to come together like magnets that thrills me. I love watching their footwork and the way their muscles tense as they deliver a blow. It is a game of strategy, power, skill and tenacity intermingled with patience.
Now, while I love watching actual fights, I am not opposed to watching movies about them.
Before I begin--and to be fair--I am not an expert. I am not paid to review movies and I don't give them any kind of ratings. Directors and movie studios execs do not look me up the moment their movies premieres to read what my thoughts were on their latest investments.
Here is what I am...I am YOU.
I am a person who just enjoys going to a damn movie to laugh, to cry, to feel inspired or hopeful or for it to stay with me as I head home and continue on with my life while I remember a particular scene so that I can replay it in my head before the day takes its toll and I go completely bat shit. With that out of the way...
Of course I've watched every ROCKY there is--with the exception of BALBOA--and recently I had a chance to watch SOUTHPAW and I loved it.
But, let's get back to ROCKY for a moment. There was something about a guy that comes from nothing and manages to make the entire world root for him that made it sacred to so many. The beauty of the movie, especially when I was a kid, was that it inspired us, made us believe that the underdog had a snowball's chance in hell of winning and hell, that even if you don't, you will get the recognition you deserve for giving it your all.
I know, I know, it isn't real. Life doesn't work that way, but that doesn't mean we don't all need this kind of motivation every now and then.
Today, my husband and I took our two sons, daughter and nephew and niece to the movies. We settled on CREED, since my husband has yet to catch up on THE HUNGER GAMES: -MOCKINGJAY, in order for us to watch the sequel. A problem which will be rectified shortly.
In all honesty, I was expecting a bit of cheesy, perhaps a perfect rendition of the original Rocky, only using Apollo Creed's son. But instead I found myself leaving the theater with an enormous smile on my face and a daughter who had her heart set on the new cartoon out to tell me that she thought it was going to be boring and was surprised how much she loved it.
W.O.W. Just...wow.

 CREED was worth my money, the long line at the concession and the kid behind me who rocked my seat and nearly pulled out a few hairs. It made me say out loud, "Put your hands up! Protect yourself!" Yes, I probably embarrassed my husband when I said it loudly enough for others to hear, but ask me if I care?
There are plenty of movies I loved that others looked their nose down on and truthfully, I don't really look at what many of the critics say, because sometimes I just need a great laugh or a good cry, cheesy be damned!
But, though it did have a few scenes of cheesy, it puts us in the moment with this young man and when Sylvester Stallone made his appearance, it wasn't a huge fanfare, it was more like a humble acceptance. It was like walking into a room and seeing an old friend for the first time in years and finding him aged, but still the same. I loved Rocky in this movie.

I loved Michael B. Jordan in this movie and I thought it was worth mentioning that my husband and I left the theater both saying how much we enjoyed it.
In short, if you are looking for a movie this holiday season, I suggest you look into CREED. Rated PG-13, so if you are opposed to any profanity then this isn't the movie for you. But if you don't mind an occasional 'bullshit', then you're totally good.
Hope you had a great holiday!

-C.

MY CHILDREN STILL BELIEVE IN SANTA

It happens to every parent. That one question around December when our children reach the age of maturity that they begin to ask: Is Santa Claus real? It happened for me about five years ago and the question keeps coming up like a rash that won't go away.
My stock answer: What do you believe?
I wish I could say that I came clean with it, that I explained the dynamic behind St. Nick and what he stood for, but I didn't. Some people may believe me foolish, but it isn't about lying to my children that I am desperate to keep their faith in St. Nick alive. It is what follows the truth that makes me wary.
Children have an unwavering faith in almost everything they believe in, be it the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny, Santa or even the boogie man. But that faith stems from a place deep inside where magic still inhabits the earth and they don't question whether or not something they love is real. It just is.
My children attend Catholic school and learn about God everyday. My reasoning for answering their question with a question is that once they realize WE buy their gifts, once they realize WE place them under the tree carefully marked with Santa's name, they lose that faith and innocence. Cynicism quickly takes root and gone are the rose colored glasses they use to view the world.
I am not a fool. I tell my children everyday that the world isn't always fair, that there are real dangers out their lurking in the shadows AND the daylight. Yet, I can't see to find it in me to come clean and kill the magic that is Santa. They know why we celebrate Christmas, they understand that it is the birth of Christ, but having the jolly guy in the red suit to look forward to is a bonus.
Santa is a symbol of hope and belief. He is an ethereal figure that brings to joy to the hearts of so many children...including mine.
It is my job to prepare my children for the world--to make them ready for the realities every adult faces. It is all of our jobs, as parents, to place the realization in their hands that the world is their oyster and that they are strong enough to achieve any goal they set out to accomplish.
But, I will keep their cynicism at bay for as long as possible, because in the end the joy they feel at the belief in Santa Claus is the same joy I see in their eyes when they speak of God.
My faith wavered the day I removed my rose colored glasses. It began to gnaw at my reasoning and ate at my beliefs until I was nothing more than a lost child, hoping to make sense of the world. It wasn't until I gave up my search for truth--which some might find childish and idiotic--that I found myself in a place where I was truly happy with my faith and my love for God.
My parents never told me about Santa, I learned for myself. I wasn't angry at them, nor did I begrudge then in any way for not telling me. Instead, I felt humbled that they tried to keep my faith alive as long as possible.
I am not going to say that it works for everyone, but it did work for me. I hope my children will understand one day why we kept this alive for them.
Have a wonderful holiday season everyone.