I Ain't Down With The Disposable Entertainment

Single rainbow.

What interests people always interests me.  I always want to know what is going on inside a person’s head when they enjoy something; especially if I cannot figure out why anyone would care about it.  There is no accounting for taste.  That is understood.  There is no reason why we all prefer different things.  But there is a reason why that specific person likes that specific thing, even if it that the person has never thought about a specific reason.  It is in there.  I am willing to bet if those reasons were collected, patterns would emerge.

When I turn the camera on myself I run into a few stumbling blocks.  There are nostalgic reasons, and intellectual curiosities, artic respect and then there is just goofy shit that makes me laugh.  One aspect of something I tend to reject has always confused me.  I like to think of myself as a person who does not take life too seriously, and even has trouble doing so when the situation demands.  When it comes to the art and media with which I decorate my life, there is one pattern that is certain.  I do not like disposable entertainment.

This applies to a few categories.  I do not like pop music, or specifically, one hit wonder stuff that is on pop radio.  I never have.  I do not like trendy speech, or memes, or latest craze in anything. If there is a TV show that is “hot”, I usually back away.  I do not have a ridiculous need to buck trends or be a permanent outsider. In fact, I have been burned a few times by turning away from a popular piece of entertainment and loving it later.  (The Simpsons comes to mind). This is not based on a belief that pop culture is shallow or hollow or without any merit at all.  There is something inside me that just does not want to get sucked into a thing that will be gone in a few weeks.  I prefer the long term relationship. I am a committer. 

This does not leave room for spontaneity and fun.  Also understood.  I am trying to be honest.  If you inspect my iTunes music list, my Netflix queue or my collection of DVD’s, there is a reason for all of that to be there.  I like to fall in love with stuff.  It is difficult to understand unless you have the same affliction.  Either I want it to be a part of me or I usually don’t give a shit.  The same goes for comedy.  I have a higher bar than a lot of people.  Yeah, it needs to be funny.  But I have seen so much in my life that the threshold is tougher to harder to determine, and some run of the mill Vince Vaughn/Owen Wilson flick won’t cut it.  But what does it need to be?  Not sure.  I just know it when I see it.

YouTube videos do next to nothing for me.  I have giggled at a few babies and laughed at the dog running in his sleep.  But I never troll the site clicking on everything to get another piece of bite-size piece of input.  Maybe my brain is conditioned to engage in hourly purges of extraneous information.  A lifetime of having sharp memory and a million hours of commercials flash in front of your face may do that.  The experience is of little interest and is almost always forgettable.   I like silliness for sure.  I like dumb physical comedy and fart jokes now and then.  I like it all, but apparently I will not accept it unless there is some kind of context other than “Hey, look at this dumb guy.”

This has recently spilled over into watching TV.  My wife and I were adrift for years with what was out there.  There was a long time where I thought my way of sticking with something would have to be abandoned.  All of TV was reality-based, jobs shows, competition shows, family life. None of it was based on a story and the quality and commitment level did not interest me at all.  About four or five years ago, genuinely fine programming reappeared and pulled me in.  I love to have a continuing story my wife and I can check in with every season.   In the last year or so though, with so many options, I have to cut a few cords.  My standards have gone up and I have to kick a few shows to the curb.  They had plenty of time to hook me, but something went wrong. 

It is not the art or the entertainment, but the delivery system.  Maybe I have an innate protection system against what I think will be a waste of my time.  It could be ego; it could be that I am lame.  I am wired to ignore extraneous information unless it is in a framework that I take seriously. I shy away from snacks.  I like meals.