Bad Movies/Good Party Themes: From Justin to Kelly Boating Soirée

Remember when American Idol first started?

It was a strange time. Those fuzzy years before Ryan Seacrest was named the Grand Pooba of all things that need hosting. He wasn’t even flying solo on Idol yet. Brian Dunkleman, who I knew better as the guy who tried to buy the engagement ring Chandler was going to get for Monica, joined him in this duty.

And viewers watched the battle unfold between the lady from Texas and the gentleman from Pennsylvania.

Ah, yes. The good old days. Sometimes I still miss them.

Of course, when that happens, I just put From Justin to Kelly into the DVD player and all is right with the world once again.

Now, not everyone has as sophisticated a palate as I. Case in point, this conversation with a friend before movie night:

FJtK Hater: I hate that movie so much. I remember watching it with you all the first and only time I've ever seen it thinking, "I love bad movies- this will be awesome."

Me: You'll get to give it a second chance next month AND LOVE IT.

 FJtK Hater: And it was not awesome, Kelly.  IT WAS NOT AWESOME.

Me: You just didn't know enough of the songs and dances. We'll hold a tutorial beforehand. No worries.

FJtK Hater:  IT WAS TERRIBLE.

Me: STOP SPREADING FALSEHOODS.

FJtK Hater: You can't make me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me:  I totally can AND WILL.

FJtK Hater:  NNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo!

Me: It's gonna happen. We will watch it. You will be there.

FJtK Hater:  No.

Me: Don't fight it.

FJtK Hater: I. just. can't.

Me: YOU WILL. And you know what? To commemorate this viewing I'm going to make you your very own tie skirt, a la Kelly Clarkson.

FJtK Hater: No.. -please, just no.

Me: Already picking out the ties.

FJtK Hater: It's just too awful. It's too terrible. And too bad.

Me: It's going to look great on you. I think you can really pull it off.

FJtK Hater:  ............

Despite my friend’s clear descent into madness, this movie is absolutely awesome. Particularly when you pair it with a boating theme. As you will find upon viewing this cinematic masterpiece, the fastest way to show that you are a tried and true boat-er is to wear outfits made up only of differing shades of white.

It should also be noted that the scene in which this is hammered home is the one my friends and I dubbed, “From Justin to Murder.” Check it out and you’ll see why.

Crackerjack dialogue to look forward to:

-          “God, how could you curse me with the perfect body and the gift of persuasion?”

-          “Heck, yeah. I mean, hell, yeah. I say hell all the time. Hell, hell, hell.”

-          “Girl, my hair won’t even fit through there.” “I’m from Texas, I’ve seen bigger.”

-          “Yeah. Five and a quarter an hour, scraping beans off plates and filling urinals with ice.”

For a From Justin to Kelly Boating Soirée of your very own, here’s what you need:

-          From Justin to Kelly (2003)

-          Volunteers to call out every time they see something that was stolen directly from Grease or Dirty Dancing.

-          Lots and lots of white clothes. Large brimmed hats are a bonus.

-          Appropriate boating food (we went with shrimp, scallops and crab cakes, followed by cream puffs and dainty deserts in fillo shells).

-          Group of American Idol diehards and/or individuals who live for pointing out continuity errors and/or folks who you can trust to yell funny things out when there is an awkward pause in the on-screen dialogue.

An added tip: When you get the DVD, watch the Extended Version. Pretty sure this takes the movie from 80 to 86 minutes and you get two additional songs. Two of the best in my opinion. Can’t remember their actual names, but we refer to them as “Summer Lovin’” and “Stranded at the Drive In.” Of course, the “drive in” is actually the world’s longest jetty and some hovercrafts, and…no, you know what? I don’t want to spoil it for you.

Just go watch it.

You can thank me later.

The Claw Machine

Good morning, all. Today's post is a response to Chuck Wendig's most recent flash fiction challenge to write a story half from the viewpoint of the protagonist and half from the antagonist's POV.

Hope you enjoy!

******

She’s holding my hand too tight.

It hurts. “Lemme go!”

“Stop it.” She squeezes tighter.

I don’t like her face. It’s frowny. And mean.

Mommy told me to be good, but the girl’s not good. And Mommy’s not here. I even looked around, just to make sure. She won’t see.

The frowny girl makes a funny noise when I kick her leg, but she still squeezes my hand. It hurts more.

She puts her face next to mine. It’s even meaner up close.

“Listen to me, you little monster. If you don’t cut the crap, I’m going to tie you to a lamp post and leave you out here.”

I don’t wanna stay out here. I like the inside. And the lady with the scary brown dog is coming down the street.

But the frowny girl is still mean. “My hand hurts.”

“You’ll live.”

I don’t know what that means. But she lets go of my hand, so it’s something good. Except now both her hands are on my shoulders.

She’s pushing.

“Daddy says no pushing.”

“News flash, kid. Daddy’s not here. Now, get inside the store.”

I want Daddy. And Mommy. Where are they?

“Inside.”

I take a step before she pushes again, but something stops my foot and I fall. The floor hurts my knee.

And my hand still hurts where the mean girl squeezed.

And I don’t know where Mommy and Daddy are.

The mean girl is talking. Her frowny face is even frownier. When she picks me up her voice is low and scary. “Stop crying. I didn’t push you. Your shoe’s untied.”

She drops me on an inside bench. Hard. “Sit here and tie your shoe. Do not leave this chair.” Her voice gets even lower. “And stop crying.”

Frowny girl walks away.

I don’t know how to tie my shoe. Daddy showed me, but none of the loops are working now. I make sure the frowny girl isn’t looking and I stick them inside my sneaker. She’ll never know.

There’s music in the back. It’s my favorite. It comes out of a magic box filled with toys. There’s a big claw inside. But, don’t worry, it’s okay, because Mommy says that it doesn’t hurt the toys.

He’s still there. My favorite.

His name’s Clyde.

Sometimes Mommy and Daddy let me try to get him. But I can’t. They said we could come back and try again.

But they’re not here.

I don’t think the frowny girl’s gonna let me try.

Clyde wants to come home with me, too. I know it. It’s mean to keep him in this box. Even if it is magic. He’s getting all squished. He’s too big. Like me.

That’s why Mommy and Daddy say I can’t sleep in their bed anymore. I’m a big boy. Too big for their bed. Just like Clyde is too big for the magic box.

But my room’s big enough for both of us.

And I can save him from being squished.

***

Where the hell is the peanut butter?

Luke wants a “PB sammich.” Which I’m sure would be just freaking adorable if Mrs. Duncan had peanut butter. And if her kid wasn’t a mini nightmare.

I swear if he kicks me one more time, I’m kicking back. See how he likes it.

There it is! Thank God.

The lady at the register smiles at me. “You okay, honey?”

“I hate babysitting. My mom said this is karma, ‘cause apparently I wasn’t the most easy going kid. But, you know, I think that karma stuff only works if I have a kid who’s crazy. Not if I’m watching someone else’s. This is just a news update waiting to happen. Crazed Sitter Slays Tot, story at eleven.”

That was too much. Stop talking.

Okay, she’s not even looking at me now. I get it. Crossed the line with the whole slaying sitter thing. But the look of horror is a little dramatic. It’s not like I actually killed him.

Her mouth opens and she points behind me.

Okay, so it’s not me bothering her. Good. Pretty sure I won’t get paid if someone calls the cops on me.

And she’s still pointing. Fine, I’ll bite.

I turn around.

No. Freaking. Way.

The kid’s in the claw machine.

Oh, this is so not good.

I run to the back of the store. “What the hell are you doing?”

Naturally, the kid’s smiling now. All temper tantrums and tears from the moment his mother left, but now life’s hysterical. Of course.

He yells something. His voice is muffled through the glass, but it sounds like “Clyde.” I’m guessing that’s the stuffed dragon he’s clinging to.

The guy who had been restocking the shelves is standing next to me now. “I don’t think he should be in there.”

“Yeah. No shit.”

I can make out his muffled voice this time. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The register woman joins us in time to laugh at this. Not horrified anymore. Lucky her. “I suppose his parents aren’t going to love the addition to his vocabulary.”

“I’m thinking they’re gonna notice the claw machine first.” I bang on the glass. “Luke, climb out of there. Now. I’m not kidding.”

He’s still smiling. “Tried. Can’t.”

Fantastic.

The woman says, “I called the fire department. They’ll get him out.”

Luke stops smiling. That’s right, kid. You’ll be out soon and then you’re mine. Be very afraid.

Yeah, he definitely looks nervous.

Wait, not nervous. Something else. I recognize that face.

No.

I bang on the glass again. “Absolutely not, Luke. Do you hear me? You hold it in.”

“What’s the matter, honey?”

I don’t bother looking at the woman. I just have to stop the kid. “Luke, listen to me. Do not – ”

But he does. I can tell. And now he’s smiling again.

I close my eyes. “He peed.”

This is so not worth ten bucks an hour. 

******

The Olympics: Fostering Goodwill....at least in our apartment

I am not what you would call an athletic person.

I think the Roomie could accept this fact if I at least had some interest in watching sporting events. Which I don’t. Almost ever.

If you want me to watch something sports related, your best bet is a Disney movie. (Even I can't resist a knucklepuck.)

This isn’t to say I don’t ever try to appreciate the more sporty sides of life. I go to root on the Roomie at the occasional soccer performance. To prove that I’m paying attention and not plotting the next couple of chapters of the story I’m working on, I have taken to texting her every few minutes to comment on something I saw on the field. She has told me that coming back to find thirty-two texts after a sixty minute game is not the athletic appreciation she is looking for. And to stop calling them soccer performances. And that “Break a leg!” is not an appropriate way to wish her luck before a game.

As I’m sure you can see, she’s fairly high maintenance.

We have however found one athletic topic we can agree on: The Olympics are awesome.

Watching the best of the best from countries all over the world is just inspiring. I may root hard for the U.S., but that doesn’t take away from the genuine awe I feel watching the athletes from other countries do their thing. I am consistently floored by the feats all of the Olympians can get their bodies to complete.

Plus, at times it is like you’re watching a Disney sports movie, given the dramatic statements frequently made by the commentators. Things like “The question is, would you go for the throat while your opponent is sobbing?” And the twice repeated “They will, as champions always do, walk together forever.” If only there was a Queen song playing over all of this, it would be absolute perfection.

So for now, the Roomie and I are in sync in our viewing choices for the evening. And in feeling mildly floored that most of the Fab Five were born the year the Magnificent Seven won the gold (which sadly means they probably totally missed out on choices like getting an Amanda Borden haircut).

In conclusion, peace has settled over the apartment.

At least until the twelfth.

Stronger Together

Recently, I’ve gotten into conversations with a few different people on the topic of Batman versus Superman. The Dark Knight Rises offers a teaser to Man of Steel, so the conversation is fairly inevitable.

Who is the better character? Let the debate begin! 

I’ve heard great arguments for both sides, but, as for myself, I tend to be less interested in which one is better and more into how awesome they are together.

There’s a reason that the two teamed up in a number of comics. They may come at crime fighting from two very different angles, but together they form a complete package. This is certainly not to say that they can’t exist on their own, but they send a stronger message when side by side.  

Much of their differing attitudes seem to be derived from their respective childhoods.

Both men are very influenced by their parents. The Waynes are murdered in front of their son’s eyes. The Kents, on the other hand, do die in certain continuities (though not generally as a result of violence), but are better known for the values which they instilled in their son than for the ways their lives ended.

One man’s course starts with his parents’ deaths, the other is inspired by his parents’ lives.

Batman embraces the shadows. He wants to strike fear in the hearts of those who strike fear in the hearts of others. Superman is a beacon of light. He inspires people to be the best versions of themselves.

Now, there’s some crossover here. Batman is certainly inspiring and if I was a bad guy, I’d probably be pretty nervous around the Man of Steel. But both heroes know how to play to their strengths.

There's a reason that so many people who I hear having the Batman vs. Superman argument relate more to Batman. Batman is the fight to overcome our past traumas without the aid of any superpowers, just through force of will and whatever resources you have handy to you (of course, Bruce Wayne's resources are admittedly impressive). But why do we struggle so to overcome these villains? Because we're trying to reach a better future. Superman is the embodiment of that hope. The promise that after our struggle we will emerge into the light and find ourselves endowed with strengths that we never believed possible.

Alone the heroes are important in their own right, but together, they’re basically the embodiment of every reason that prompts us to continue attending superhero movies, no matter how many times they’re revamped.

Amazon Knows Me Too Well....

The last few Amazon purchases that I have made have all been books. It’s summer, school’s over, and I have buckets of reading to catch up on. So….books. However, when I go on Amazon, it does not recommend more books for me. It takes a rather different route.

For those of you who have not yet invested in a Sun-Stache, you really should. They’re fantastic. I have recently ensured that all of my young cousins have one, because there’s really nothing quite as amusing as a six-year-old running around with a handlebar mustache.

Of course, due to these multiple purchases, Amazon now appears to think I have a fascination with all things mustache. It does not matter that I’ve made other purchases since the Sun-Staches, the site insists that my greatest love in this world is the mustache.

I am encouraged to peruse mustache jewelry, clothing with mustache designs, a variety of fake mustaches. Perhaps my favorite, labeled under “Sports & Outdoors,” are these “Stylish Mustaches for Girls.” I would love to know what sporting events Amazon thinks I’m taking part in that would call for a pink moustache. Mostly so that I can seek these activities out.

After mustaches, the other products Amazon recommends for me are all related to Mad Libs and fanny packs.

It’s like it can see into my very soul.

Not-So-Guilty Pleasures

Guilty pleasures. Everyone’s got some.

Those things that you absolutely love, but are fairly embarrassed by. When someone else finds out about your overwhelming affection, you’re quick to make a self-deprecating joke about it. ‘Cause then you’re in on the laughter.

But after all the poking fun is over, you wonder, Is this going to be my identifier now?

We all know this happens. You’re being introduced to someone new and the person doing the introducing is trying to be thoughtful. So, he throws in some inane fact about you, generally one that you would not have chosen.

I have a friend who does this with the absolute best intentions. Multiple times she has introduced me in the following manner: “This is my friend, Kelly. She really loves Star Wars.”

Now, this is a fact. I do really love Star Wars. No guilty-pleasure-ness about it. Just full on SW love. But the fact this is my friend’s only go-to fact – despite knowing me for going on nine years, during which time we have never even watched the movies together – shows that it’s hard for people to let go of specific interests.

So, all your friends now know about the guilty pleasure you’ve been keeping on the down low. You’re terrified that the next time they introduce you to someone it will be with, “This is David. Big Toddlers & Tiaras fan.” And then you’ll go throw up in a potted plant and spend the rest of the evening as that awkward lump in the corner.

No more, I say!

It’s time to take pride in these ridiculous things that we love. We’re all, as a rule, kind of weird. So, get pumped when someone finds out. They may not like the thing you like, but maybe they’ll talk about how every time they check out at the grocery store, they can’t resist grabbing the latest National Enquirer. It’s a great ice breaker.

In the name of full disclosure, here are five of my no-longer-so-guilty pleasures:

• Online Personality Quizzes: Can you pass up finding out “What mythical creature are you?” or “What would your Vampire name be?” Because apparently, I can’t.
• Archie comics: Love the whole gang. And I don’t care how many times my dad tells me to just switch Betty and Veronica’s hair and they’d be the same people, I will still pick up one of these every time I seen them in the grocery store.
• European Teen Groups from the late '90s: B*Witched, A*Teens, and, of course, Spice Girls, all hold a special place in my heart. Listen to any of their songs and tell me you don’t feel like bopping along. You can’t. ‘Cause your pants would go up in flames from all the lying.
• Made-for-TV Christmas movies: Seriously obsessed. Particularly since I only allow myself to watch them from the evening of Thanksgiving until the first of January each year. The movie schedules I have made the last few Decembers have been epic and, according to some, terrifying.
• Monogrammed Black Velour Jumpsuit: This wonderful addition to my wardrobe came from my lovely sister-in-law. It is the perfect loungewear, plus...you know...snazzy looking. To be completely honest, I almost didn't share this one, but then Roomie said I was lying to myself and the world. According to her, it's the definition of a guilty pleasure. Something I wouldn't have bought for myself, but love and wear around the apartment all the time. She talked about the frequency of wear quite a bit, actually. I think she's jealous.

Roomie wanted to in on this action, so here is her list, as well:

Roomie:

• America's Next Top Model marathons: "Marathons - that's important to specify. I don't just watch the show."
• Amount of Mint Choco Chip ice cream I can eat: "Make sure it's 'Choco,' that's the Turkey Hill brand. I have standards."
• Have read Twilight series more than once: She once hung up on me so that she could finish New Moon. When reminded of this, her response was "Not even a good one."
• Collection of late '90s music videos: "No shame."
• Bad sequels to dance movies: "Step Up 2, 3, and I'm preemptively counting 4. Center Stage 2. Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. Not really dance movies, but all the Bring It On sequels. I love them all. Also really hoping that Peter Gallagher's character in Step Up 4 is the same one he played in the Center Stage movies. Come on, Jonathan!"

Hope you all have a great weekend, full of whatever weird things you love!

Go Big or.....Nope, that's you're only option

Today is National All Or Nothing Day, a day you should not go big or go home, but go big even if you’re at home.

If you feel like something’s been holding you back, be it vegetable, animal or mineral, today is the day to shake it off and go for broke.

To celebrate the day, here are some characters who make a habit of choosing “all” over “nothing:”

-          Hermione Granger: It’s hard to beat someone who’s both at the top of her class and not afraid to wade into the thick of battle. Then, of course, there’s her ability to overcome discrimination due to her bloodline, the fierce loyalty to her friends and a willingness to take extreme measures to ensure the safety of her parents. Hermione thought ahead to ensure the best possible chance of success for every endeavor and risked everything to do what was right. And somehow managed to find time to lobby on behalf of house-elf freedom. Certainly not one for any laurel resting.

-          Neal Caffrey: It’s hard to be sure which side of the law he’s dancing on, but whether he’s committing crimes or solving them, Neal tends to go all in. It’s his general approach to life. He wants the best, so he finds a way to get the best: clothes, living situation, way to serve out his jail sentence. He’s willing to go to great lengths for the people he loves, whether or not that means working inside the law. And he does it all with a jaunty tip of his hat.

-          Buffy Summers: As the tombstone said, “She saved the world. A lot.” Miss Summers was a busy girl. She managed to fight vampires, demons and the occasional demigod, whilst also cultivating and maintaining personal relationships with a number of individuals. Not to mention going to school, slaying her boyfriend, nursing said boyfriend back from a feral state, fighting a rogue slayer, sparring with the military, helping to raise her mystical sister, standing by a friend during her detox from magic addiction, training new slayers, and ultimately returning to her high school to work as a guidance counselor. And then there was the whole dying twice thing, but even that couldn’t keep her down. Sounds like giving her all to me.

-          Marshall Flinkman: Sure, he didn’t really go on all that many missions, but the few times he did were always epic. Where Marshall really went all out, though, were in his relationships. He might have been a little socially awkward, but that never stopped his efforts to connect. And regardless of what life threw at him, he was never one to give into hopelessness. Didn’t matter if he’d just been held captive and tortured for days, you could still count on him for a smile and a parachute built into his suit.

-          Animal: Have you seen him play the drums? Enough said.

Please take note, tomorrow is Bagpipe Appreciation Day. Plan your celebrations accordingly.

Fun and Games...And Maybe a Little Fall Out

I used to absolutely love playing board games as a kid. Still do today, but back then I saw them as akin to dancing on rainbows. Two classics stand out in my mind as having the biggest impact on the way I’ve come to view stories.

Candy Land was a consistent crowd pleaser. Not just because it was a fun game, but because I wanted nothing more than to live in a place where all food was candy. It was the dream.

I wanted to be Queen Frostine. And I totally wanted to pick a fight with Lord Licorice. What was he doing letting all those bats fly around the candy? That’s just unsanitary.

Despite my love of this setting, however, somewhere along the line I realized that there wasn’t much of a story involved. Sure, the epic journey of two kids trying to make their way to the Candy Castle had promise. But the worst that happened to them is that they get stuck in some gum drops for awhile. And this isn’t a consequence of any action they took, just bad luck.

Chutes and Ladders, on the other hand, didn’t have the same grandiose premise. I didn’t get to imagine myself hanging around with Plumpy and Princess Lolly. What the game did have, however, were actions and consequences, both good and bad. It wasn't just a journey for the sake of journeying. Each player could be impacted by both good and bad choices throughout the game. One minute you were mowing lawns and earning enough money to go to the circus, the next you chose to pull a cat’s tail and got scratched in the face.

Every individual is capable of making both good and bad decisions. And for a story to be interesting, every character should make both good and bad decisions, and then live with the consequences.

Now I look to read and write stories that have aspects of both of these games. I love fantasy settings where magic is not only possible, but expected. And I want characters in those worlds to be active. I’ve mentioned before how annoying I personally find chronically indecisive characters. I want to see someone choose to make a deal they know is bad news with Gloppy and then see them zoom down that slide to get stuck in Molasses Swamp. And then I want to see the choices they make to get themselves out of it.

As a side note, if anyone decides to create a real life Candy Land/Chutes and Ladders mash up, please contact me when you need human testers.

Rise of the Machines

I am a big fan of technology.

I spend hours upon hours of each day on the computer. I hook up my navigational system when it comes time for a trip. I consider my DVR a lifesaving device. And I am quite seriously counting the days until I get my hoverboard, flying car, and robot.

All this being said, I don’t own a smart phone. A fact that occasionally frustrates the Roomie (particularly those times when I ask her to find out the hours of every bookstore in the area).

It’s not that I don’t like the idea of such a tool or that its many merits are lost me.

No, it actually has to do with Esmeralda, which is the name I gave my navigational system. (A fact that drives my sister a little batty, particularly when I refer to the nav system as “her” or “she.” And then her comments hurt Esmeralda's feelings....really, it's just a mess.)

Anyway, Esmeralda is a gem. She gets me where I’m going, even if she’s sometimes a little slow in her initial response. If I get lost, she gets me back on track.

It’s wonderful and, as a result of this awesomeness, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t find my way out of a paper bag without her.

Fine, she’s not necessary for the home-to-work drive, but if I’m going further than that, she’s with me. It doesn’t matter if I’ve made the drive a thousand times before. She’s a security blanket. Without her, I’d be driving in circles weeping and gnashing my teeth.

This dependence can’t be healthy. But every time I try to break it off with her, I hear that siren’s song. And I think, You know, I should just put her up for the time. That way if someone asks I can give them a more definite ETA.

It’s a vicious cycle. And one I’m not looking to cultivate with any of the other machines. When I consider the amount of time I spend with my normal, run-of-the-mill, might-as-well-be-Zack-Morris’s phone, I know that a smart phone will become so much a part of my day to day life that people are going to have to start referring to me as a cyborg.

And I’m just not sure how I feel about that.

On one hand, when the machines do finally rise up against us, it is possible that they will react in a kinder fashion to cyborgs than to your run-of-the-mill human. However, it seems just as likely, if not more so, that the phone will turn against me in retribution for how far into the ground I will most definitely run it.

It just seems safer to limit my reliance on technology and take that time saved to practice zombie fighting techniques. You know, just in case they rise before the machines do.

Fostering Hope

This world can at times be a difficult place in which to live.

As individuals, we each endure our own personal tragedies. The kinds that make it difficult to face the day. The kinds that change the course of our lives. And as our suffering is extremely personal, we can be left feeling isolated.

As a collective, we look aghast at the larger scale devastations that occur. We don’t necessarily know any of the people involved personally, but our stomachs clench and our hearts hurt. We want to be able to do something, anything to help. But no contribution seems substantial enough. And in some ways, we’re right. We are powerless to change the bad things that have already happened.

We can, however, take steps to restore a sense of hope in the world. These generally aren’t major things that are going to alter humanity in a manner that will be discussed hundreds of years from now in history classes. They’re small things, which at the time seem like a spit in the ocean. But they make us smile, even if only for a second. And slowly, as all these little things pile up, the smiles last longer and the feeling of hope begins to outweigh that of sadness. It’s not a short process, but it’s well worth endeavoring.

As someone who often mentions my love for the fictional heroes who inspire, I do not have sufficient words for my admiration for real life heroes. I have been blessed with a great many in my life, who have lifted me up during my worst times. As I become more and more active on the internet, I keep finding examples of the good in the world. There is a lot of it. And it’s worth taking note of.

If you are currently looking for something to inspire you, or a way for you to inspire others, I offer the following:

• The Traveling Red Dress – The Bloggess Jenny Lawson has inspired people to reach out and help others cope with hard times and celebrate milestones through the sending and photographing of red dresses.
• Superheroes for Sam – ThinkGeek is getting the word out about a very simple way you can make a six year old boy with leukemia feel a little better. 
• Any Soldier – This site provides a way for you to send thoughts and thanks to our service members around the world.
• “A Small Place for Nice Things” – Author Chuck Wendig offered a place on his blog for readers to talk about good things they have seen or experienced.  

These are just a very few examples. There are many, many more people using social media to promote hope. If there are other examples of these you would like to share, please leave them in the comments.

My thoughts and prayers go out to all the victims of the Aurora shooting and their loved ones, as well as to everyone who is currently going through a time of struggle.