I love Sylvester Stallone movies. I blame this on my father, but perhaps blame is too strong a word as I am happy with my fascination. I attribute this to my father, who would let my sister and I stay up entirely too late while my mom was at work. We would sit with him on the sofa and watch in fascination as this stubborn underdog would repeatedly defeat everything in his way while crowds of people cheered in horror and disbelief.
Right now, I am on a Rocky kick. I'm watching all 5 of the movies on demand right now. I watch them one after the other. Rocky IV is on in the background right now. He's training to fight the Russian. My heart is all aflutter. Just as Corey watches great cycling races while he trains indoors, I watch the Italian Stallion train as I work out in the afternoons. We do pushups together and I know that one day soon, I will do the one armed, legs spread pushups that he flies through with ease.
Some of the articles I have to read for my literature class attempt to deconstruct the masculinity in the Rocky movies, which I find distressing. Once I start thinking about them in analytical terms I can't stop. I start to wonder why Adrian ever fell for him in the first place, when his big pickup line was "Come up stairs and I'll clear you a place to sit on my sofa." I get worried that she stops wearing her glasses when he tells her she is pretty. How does she see? I freak out that the doctor tells Rocky Adrian is in a coma because she worked during her pregnancy and I get disturbed that Paulie is allowed to talk to her so harshly.
I don't want to analyze Rocky Balboa. I just want to watch him win despite all odds and march around my house dooting the theme song while I do dishes. I can't wait for Wednesday. Even if I have to go to the movies alone, I'm gonna be there when he defeats Mason "the line" Dixon.