"Smock, smock, smock, smock, smock."

I was mulling over several possibilities for the one book that really stands out to me, that impacted my life in a lasting way. There are many to choose from; different books touched me in different ways, depending on the condition of my life at the time I read it. Certain ones remain with me. There are the philosophical books my dad gave me when I was young, The Tao of Pooh and Siddhartha; Lord of the Rings when I was older; Kissing in Manhattan and Life of Pi when I was older still.

Ultimately, though, there was only ever one answer to that question: Calvin and Hobbes. I've never been more obsessed with a book or series of books than I was (and still am) with this one. I was ten years old, in fifth grade, and - completely at random - picked out Revenge of the Babysat for my mom to buy me at a B. Daltons (in the mall, of course). I took it to school with me every day; I colored in the black-and-white panels on the Sunday strips; I didn't understand even half of what Calvin and Hobbes were saying, but I loved the language and the way the two characters played off each other. And it made me laugh. A lot. I tried to make my sister play Calvinball with me; I wanted to make my own superhero outfit to rival that of Stupendous Man; I wanted to have my own spaceship like Spaceman Spiff's; I tried to copy Calvin's language in my journal ("Further bulletins as events warrent") without having any idea what they meant; I took on the moniker "Chelsea the Bold" (in emulation of Calvin the Great) and signed all my papers and assignments that way for the entire year. I even wrote, on research projects, "An Exhaustingly Researched Report by Chelsea the Bold." No joke. My teachers must have wanted to recommend a therapist to my parents.

As I got older and acquired all the books, I lost interest in the physical acting-out of Calivn and Hobbes' escapades (thank god! Although it took me longer than I would like to mention); I started focusing on the actual words being spoken by the characters, and the meaning behind them that I never quite grasped before. And after I began to understand the complex commentary, I learned more about the man who wrote them; the books are, after all, his personal take on life.

I think Bill Watterson is a genius; even if he is a cantankerous fellow, I think he's earned the right to be. I agree with almost all his views on life, and admire his cleverness in presenting his ideas in a twisted way through Calvin, with Hobbes as the gentle hand of reason. Watterson doesn't come off preachy to me, even in his later work when his feelings about the environment, society, and consumerism become more of the focus in Calvin and Hobbes' dialogue. I love the imagery and imagination behind every panel. I love that he wrote about complex issues through a non-standard narrative form. I love that Watterson defied the newspapers, who tried to force him to create in a set pattern, by refusing to do it. He was dropped from syndication by many papers, but the ones who kept him on let him design his Sunday panel how he wanted to. I love that he stood firm and refused to license out Calvin and Hobbes' images; he didn't want to make any money from selling T-shirts or coffee mugs or bumper stickers. Any merchandise you see of Calvin and Hobbes is fake, their images illegally appropriated to sell things. I admire his ideals, the way he presented them, and the way he never compromised them.

I hope that one day I, too, will be fortunate enough to have the option of not selling out.