When I was about five or six years old, I remember asking my mom if she loved me or my brother more. She did the right thing and answered that she loved us equally, and it’s a good thing, too, because this could have been a very different sort of blog.
I always think of this when I have to fill out a form asking for my favorite book, movie, song, actor, or some other artistic category. I find these sorts of questions impossible to answer (and I’m talking to you, Facebook). Not since I was in junior high school was I able to absolutely define my favorite anything. My tastes change all the time.
Let’s take the year 1986. I was eight years old. My favorite movie? The Karate Kid..Part II. I was pretty convinced it represented the best that cinema had to offer. I mean, for one thing it had this guy:
For another, it had this:
You add in a slightly awkward interracial love story, a lesson in multicultural awareness based on an archaic Japanese instrument, and a kick-ass karate tournament for a grand finale, and you can’t really blame me, can you?
My favorite book around that same time was most assuredly in the Baby-sitters Club series. I was clearly well on my way to becoming a literary snob.
And even looking back on later years, when I should have known better, I can’t really understand my taste. (I definitely went through a boyband phase well after it should have been considered normal.)
I guess my question is, will I look on my “favorites” of 2010 and think: What an idiot I was! I liked this guy?
It seems impossible, but then, I really loved that Peter Cetera song.
