by Don Hall

When I was nine years old I wanted to be like Kwai Chang Caine from the television series Kung Fu. Caine was stoic. He travelled the West in search of his half brother and along the way, every week, helped people he met with his mix of quiet focus and badass martial arts mastery. He had amazing decorative scars on his forearms from his training.

I was nine so my takeaway was less the Taoist focus and more on the roundhouse kicks. Just north of the housing project we lived in was another housing project that had been mostly built and abandoned so I would go there after school and pretend the bad guys in my head were the sections of drywall erected and kick and punch holes like I was him. I think I believed I could absorb the techniques of ancient Chinese secrets through watching him kick ass. What the fuck did I know? I was nine.

Secondary to my ascension as Shaolin Monk in the Old West was my lack of genuine male role models. I had my mom (not male), my grandfather (WWII veteran, retired oil rigger, darkly hysterical), and a stepfather who was vain and violent (mostly to my mom but almost as frequently to me). I looked to the idiot box and movie theater for examples in the absence of real world guidance.

No longer in thrall with the kung fu I never mastered, I still find inspiration from characters in popular culture who provide aspirational qualities.

Ted Lasso

A fairly recent addition, Jason Sudeikis’s over-the-top optimist soccer coach left me feeling hopeful. The character seems, at first, to be so cheerful and oblivious that he is easily written off as one-note. As the first season unfolds it becomes apparent that his optimism is rooted in a belief that people are basically good because to believe otherwise is to acquiesce to the void of despair.

He is his own ray of sunshine and simply refuses to give in to cynicism. 

Samwise Gamgee

He’s not the smartest hobbit in the Shire. He’s not the most capable. He’s not well-travelled and his daily wants are as simple as he is but when the fucking rubber meets the road, he is the bravest of all of them.

Samwise is that avatar of what genuine friendship looks like. He is solid like bedrock and understands in a fundamental way that what he lacks in grace or wit is balanced by his indefatigable tenacity to keep putting one hairy foot in front of the other no matter the cost.

Every character aside from Gandalf fiddles with giving up the quest but not Sam. His belief in goodness, in ordinary pleasures, in the joys of living, prevent him from even flirting with the idea of laying down.

Spock

I always loved Star Trek but I didn’t really understand Spock until a few years ago. I’ve always been more of Kirk — emotional, headstrong, impulsive, risky. Along that path I came to realize that a lot of my greatest achievements came from that approach but an equal amount of my worst mistakes could be attributed to it as well.

Then came a self-imposed Trek marathon. I watched dozens of the original series and, for the first time, I understood why Spock was so important. Spock was thoughtful, stoic, and logical. His approach was from rationality although his character is from a race so emotionally charged that they built an entire culture around the compartmentalization of emotions.

I’ll always be Kirk but I want to be more like Spock.

Bugs Bunny

It is the balls out anarchy of Bugs that inspires. Everything is funny, nothing is sacred. 

Society is so filled with anxiety and outrage that actively refusing to take most of it seriously is almost a necessity for staying away from nibbling at your toes and mumbling conspiracy theories under your breath behind a Dunkin’ dumpster.

When in doubt, find the funny and laugh in the face of despair.

Jules Winfield

No, I don’t want emulate this Sam Jackson/Quentin Tarantino creation’s hit man skills. I find a certain solace in his ability to examine his life and truly see who he is and decide to make changes.

“See, now I’m thinking: maybe it means you’re the evil man. And I’m the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here… he’s the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could mean you’re the righteous man and I’m the shepherd and it’s the world that’s evil and selfish. And I’d like that. But that shit ain’t the truth. The truth is you’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men. But I’m tryin’, Ringo. I’m tryin’ real hard to be the shepherd.”

Rocky Balboa

I love Rocky Balboa. I love the story, spanning over eight films. I love his propensity to take a punch and still get up, no matter what. I love the fact that the goal so often in his arc is not about winning but about going the distance.

Rocky is self deprecating, self reflective, and can always find that extra gas in the tank when things get tough. Most important, Rocky is unashamed of his abiding love for the people in his life.

I think stories are there to teach us as well as entertain. The lessons we choose to learn from our own experiences are invaluable (Fail as many times in life as you can and learn from the failures). The beauty of the billions of stories available to us in books, television, and film is that each of us can walk for a moment in the shoes of characters living lives we will never experience and gain some understanding in those journeys.