“I propose a toast to Lewis and his brilliant failure:
May it lead to success in the future!”

Marty and I watched Meet the Robinsons the other night. What a freaking fantastic movie! It was mostly just your usual vastly entertaining kids’ flick, but there are a couple of particular exceptions I would like to clearly note:

• “Keep moving forward!” This guy is not kidding. Coulda-shoulda-woulda is not worth your time except to learn from your past and move on. Sitting around and wasting time is useless to you. And by the way, when’s the last time you learned something new, really? Do you go through the same familiar routine every day? Do you stay in your comfort zone? (Note: Comfort zones are not always comfortable. They’re usually just comfortable enough...) When’s the last time you pushed yourself? Did something really, really hard? No, I mean really hard. When was the last time you looked inside yourself and discovered a previously-unknown inner strength of will? And if you can’t remember, when the hell are you going to start?

• “You failed! And it was awesome!! Exceptional! Outstanding! From failing you learn! From success… not so much.” If you’ve seen this movie, you know that the kid protagonist screws something up masterfully (for the second time in the last hour) and instead of groans and disappointment from those around him, he receives… PRAISE! It’s almost a party. Exclamations, applause, fireworks! (Yes, really—fireworks!) And I think my jaw dropped right into my raw zucchini lasagne, because I’ve never seen a movie do that. I’ve heard about failure, yes, and I’ve heard how important it is to push through. But celebrating failure? That’s… that’s… That’s MAGNIFICENT!

Celebrate! Failure! My god, how did we come to raise our children to dread defeat? It astonishes me. It should astonish you, too.

I think I should start a list. The ten most brilliantly passion-inspiring, growth-inducing, essential-lesson-teaching movies of all time. (Now I just have to find eight more. I already know what my second’s going to be…)

“Gosh… you’re all so nice. If I had a family, I… I’d want them to be just like you.”