I'm a little bit of a chicken, a whole lot of a mom, and a huge zombie fan. I resisted The Walking Dead for a long time, because I generally spend my time in scary movies hidden behind my husband. I don't like haunted houses. I might have kicked a guy dressed up as a scary clown in one once, but he was dressed up as a SCARY CLOWN. He had it coming and I have no regrets. But one day I gave in to the Walking Dead marathon, and the rest is history.
I'd love to tell you that it was the deeply emotional human experience of surviving despite the odds. I do respect that. Or the underlying theme of eternal hope against seemingly insurmountable odds. That appeals to me, too. But I can't lie and say that there isn't another, even more appealing aspect for me.
When Daryl kills all the zombies I swoon. When he saves the day, yet again, I cheer. When he cries, I melt.
I know that in a zombie apocalypse where he hasn't bathed for days (weeks?) and has worn leather for extended periods of time that in reality, he might not be as appealing as he seems. But on my tv, with his bow and arrow and motorcycle, bathing seems totally overrated.
It really is more than just Daryl, though.
I love that Carol started out as a victim and has turned into a survivor.
I love that Glenn and Maggie love each other.
I love that Rick is a real person, and he messes up sometimes, but he picks up and goes on.
I love that good conquers evil, even if it isn't always the easiest path to get there.
I love that even in loss, life goes on.
And I love that I'm pretty sure I can kill a zombie if I had to. I don't want to, but I think I can do it.
The walking dead, teaching you heart skills and survival skills.