The Rest of the Story

(And many thanks to Paul Harvey for the phrase. If you haven't heard any of his commentary, I recommend it.)

Yesterday I poo-poohed happy endings. Give me grief and misery! But sometimes a lighter tale can be delightful, as Paul Harvey so often proved.  c.f. here.

It's a tale of a very mundane event with a quiet happy ending, and quite worthy of a short story if someone were so inclined. But why? A little boy's memory of getting stuck in the snow on a mother and son drive doesn't sound so great, but there are special circumstances. Therein lies the crux of the matter.

For him, it was likely the only time it would ever happen.

Don't get me wrong. I do like feel-good movies. I like happy endings, and I love inspirational movies as long as they aren't too saccharine.  I am not inspired by mundane events, however, unless there is something about them that makes them special.

It doesn't take much. Good writing can turn any moment into an epiphany, or an iconic memory, or a symbol for something grander.  If you'll forgive the hubris, I reference a poem I wrote for my daughters about blowing a bubble. The rhythm is perhaps too complex and easily misread, the phrasing might be too contrived for your taste, but it does illustrate my point. Blowing a bubble is something simple and cheap and easy enough we do it to entertain the children, but there is plenty of symbolism to be had.

Happy is good. I love it when the hero wins the girl. I just want him to prove to me he deserves it first. That's usually easiest done by showing me he can respond nobly to a bad situation.