Crossing the Streams
Binge watching the streams and eye-balling the books falling off the shelf. What a life.
Ever since I was laid off from my full-time job of eleven years I’ve been working part-time. That means the other part-time portion of my life is spent staying up late (thinking of you Joe Franklin) to rewatch all the shows and movies I’ve seen over the years while tallying up the new ones clogging the channels.
There’s something nostalgic and potentially mortifying when you do that. Nostalgic because you have fond memories of times spent in and around those shows, and mortifying when you approach them again with adult eyes, sometimes forcing you to figure out what your younger mind was thinking back then. Or, worse yet, generating friction between those memories and the reality of now. Times do change. What was fun and engrossing THEN can become but-that’s-not-how-I-remembered-it! So holding to those fixed points can be a mixed-up bag of rapture and remembrance or rupture and disappointment. For the most part, though, if nothing else, it helps keep the gray cells sparking along and can show how much you’ve grown (or not). Funny too, while time may change, it often repeats events, just swapping out old windows for new, but the dressing stays the same.
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