After driving around looking at lights last night (such as they are in this little burg up north), J2 and I headed to the movie theatre to see "Rocky Balboa". A nice little outing for father and son.
The movie was a bit introspective (maybe that's Stallone as filmmaker looking at himself, who knows), but the fight scenes were still great, and we both liked the symmetry of the movie vis-a-vis the entire series. It closed a loop, sort of ended where it began.
And it was remarkable how in shape the guy was. He has the sagging skin of a 60 year old (I'm beginning to relate) but underneath that lack of youthful tautness, he was *built*, with enormous arms. Very little fat on the belly, although he was barrel-chested (as one gets over time, despite the best intentions.) The years were evident, but so was the remaining power.
I suppose it's romantic, sentimental, and even a little maudlin to insert oneself into the plot line. And who better than me to do such a thing? ;) One of the things Rocky said was that he still had "stuff inside" that needed to come out - he wasn't done yet - but had no way to express it. Hm. I liked that he found a way to flame out, and not sputter (see last pic in post of 11/28). You know, "old guy does good", that kind of thing.
I still have stuff inside, too, that needs to come out. I'm not done yet, either. So all I need, I guess, is a metaphorical ring to step into. Still looking for the right venue...
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