Delta Force. Obviously the best movie ever created. A movie that had EVERYTHING that ANYONE could ever ask for. Action, adventure, shadowy bad guys with nefarious plans that are charging hard against the freedom of the good people in the world. Enter Chuck Norris and Lee Marvin (I told you it has everything!!!) to save the day and they do so in the most gloriously badass fashion ever. With advanced weaponry, pure bravery and American righteousness!!! When I was 10, this was cinematic perfection to the highest degree. I knew that to be an absolute and unmitigated truth… right up until the moment I re-watched it as a 28 year old.
Wow.
Who went back to the best movie ever and made it into a comical mess of moderately racist stereotypes, terribly predictable action sequences and smack-you-in-the-head-with-a-brick subtlety of patriotic propaganda???? Why would they ruin the artistry that was the Delta Force I knew and loved.
Nobody did. I just didn’t see any of this when I was young. Seeing the actuality of it as a discerning adult broke that spell. That’s the day that I realized that looking back in your head can be very different than looking back into reality. When I think of my childhood, I think of almost nothing but the good times. I remember late days on the beach followed by Otter Pops and watermelon on my parent’s porch. I remember pool hopping with friends as teenagers and being chased, soaked and shoeless from buildings by security guards. I remember bike rides on the boardwalk, Christmas mornings and being reluctantly put to bed by my dad, itchy and sweaty, after hikes in upstate NY. I remember the excitement of new brothers and sisters coming in to the family (at a high rate of frequency for us.) I remember a good childhood.
I have to really think hard to bring back memories of hard times. The financial struggles of a family of 8 on a salary built for 3, tops. Of teenaged weeks of semi-homelessness when I couldn’t get along with my dad. Of unnecessary beach brawls with teenagers from out of town and the crushing heartaches of unrequited love. Of years pretending I could easily cope with the severe substance abuse of someone extremely close to me (while remaining straight edge until 21!) Of course I went through it all and struggled with everything that most people struggle with. But part of the struggles and part of what keeps us loving people and things is our ability to retain the good far more easily than the bad. That’s not to say some haven’t had it bad enough to keep that at the forefront. But my personal selective memory always tends to focus on the fun. And when I look back, the magic is always there waiting for me.
Now as a parent I strive to make every day as good, or as moderate as I can for my kids. I want them to look back on the Delta Force of their lives and find it difficult to pinpoint the hard times that are unavoidable. Sometimes they are complete dickheads and I know that in their heads that on occasion I am one too. But that isn’t what I’ll remember when I’m 80 and I hope they don’t either. So each day I try to make it good. I hope when they are 40 they look back and say “I had a fortunate childhood. It was fun and I was lucky.” I hope they don’t look back and say “Ugh did Chuck Norris really ride a 50cc dirt bike through Beirut with bottle rockets attached to kill those bad-guys???” That’s not a disappointment anyone should bear.