Back from my badly needed mini blogging vacation and raring to go! I had meant to post yesterday, which happened to be my blog’s one year anniversary, but I was busy entertaining company. More on that….maybe. If I want to talk about the visit, it will most certainly be a private post.

Anyway, I spent time thinking about what I liked in my childhood, what I hoped to be and accomplish before I hit thirty—an age I had once considered to be ancient, but now believe it to be the age where most people begin to realize their full potential. I thought about what had influenced me as a kid, mostly pop culture until I discovered philosophical books, philosophical books other than the Bible. I devoured the high school encyclopedias, absorbing other cultures and long dead peoples—most notably, my Viking ancestors. By the way, I’m the only person in my high school who got in trouble for reading!

(I do consider the Bible to be a philosophical book. I had read the Bible at least five times and was unimpressed with the inconsistancies in the Old and New Testaments. It IS good reading–bloodiest book I’ve ever read. But, joking aside, there is important stuff to glean from it, as long as you keep in mind that it has been translated and many of the pivotal words have different meanings. Which, of course, can completely change the way on how a verse is read. )

Anyhow, this isn’t a post on the Bible. It’s a post on what had made an impression on my sponge-like young mind. TV played its nefarious part, too; I wasn’t ALL about learning and reading. I liked TV, particularily when I was young and had no friends.

My heroine, when I was the tender age of five, was the incomparable Ms. Piggy. I liked the way she administered karate chops at the slightest hint of disrespect and I laughed at the sight of whatever hapless Muppett happened to tick her off that episode, flying off screen. That Muppett didn’t take crap, that was for sure, and she didn’t roll over at the drop of a hat—which I had a tendency to do.

Even now, I think of Ms. Piggy fondly.

When I was older, I want to say about eleven or twelve, I watched—and loved with the kind of love only an prepubscent girl can give—Knight Rider. Not only did I find David Hasslehoff handsome, (Must have been partly due to his Shatner-like acting. I have a thing for actors that have a flair for the melodramatic–i.e Bruce “The Man” Campbell.) but I loved the snarky car even more.

Hey, I love sarcasm!