The Binge, Revisited

 “Netflix gives you 15 seconds between episodes to decide whether or not you’re doing anything with your life today”

--- Internet Meme

Image by Rob Dobi via https://bit.ly/2PT63qy

 

A little over five years ago, I was stuck at home, unable to go out because of a health issue. No, there wasn’t a pandemic, everyone else was out and about, eating in restaurants, shopping in stores, and going barefaced. My issue was a new hip, and honestly, at least back then I had an excuse to lie around and be unproductive. Now? We’ve reached the Pinterest portion of the pandemic, and everyone is all over social media By everyone, I mean, not me. Sorry, but artisanal bread, kale chips, and gourmet chick pea salad is not how I roll, even if I am trapped in the house.

 

Initially, I bought a few sacks of flour, collected enough butter and eggs to choke a horse, and stockpiled a collection of Tasty and Buzzfeed food videos of deliciously decadent treats. Haven’t made any of them yet. The reason? I've fallen down the rabbit hole of online streaming. Between Hulu, Netflix, YouTube, and Amazon Prime, there are several thousand movies and shows to choose from, and honestly, binge-watching has become my video Valium of sorts. If I can’t sleep, Mary Tyler Moore, James Bond, Bob Newhart, and classic film noir movies are always there for me.

 

Five years ago, I wrote about the beauty of the binge, and how when there is downtime, it helps to have a distraction. In 2015, I wrote:

“What’s the answer? A good binge, that’s what. Now before you think anything untoward, I am not talking about vodka or chocolate cake. The new “Lost Weekend” is known as “binge-watching” and it’s perfect for those times when you don’t want to deal with the crapfest that passes for entertainment on some networks. There are a lot of ways to binge-watch too, depending on what you have available.”

That is still mostly true, except now, the crapfest is, sadly, the national news. It seems that everything is blowing up, from COVID numbers to fireworks factories, and Twitter rants, and that gets old after a while. Back then, however, if I couldn’t find something good online, there was Chet’s Video, with their delicious popcorn and candy. They even delivered movies for me while I healed. I miss that place.

The bonus now though? With online streaming, the viewer is the boss. It might be just a coincidence, but the TV “clickah” is actually called the “remote control.” How perfect is that? We’re all stuck learning remotely, working remotely, and doing so much else in an isolated way, and now we get to push some buttons and rule the world. Well, at least the screen anyway. I can wield a remote like a pro, zipping through channels at a seizure-inducing pace. I can’t make the pandemic go away. I am powerless to open the schools, I can’t sit on my favorite barstool at the Barnacle, munching on clams and sipping the perfect Bloody Mary. No hugging my friends, or traveling, or going to a ballgame. So much of what was normal in the “Before Times” just can’t happen now. So, this is one part of life that is entirely up to me, and you bet your sweet bippy, I’m going for it.

Back then, it was frustrating to be physically limited. No bike rides, no badminton matches, I couldn’t even walk Penny the Pug. Now the limits are different, and while I'm grateful to be healthy, it's still frustrating. We are moving into a new phase though, and just maybe in a few months, some of what we are missing will come back. In the meantime, I will be turning away from the 24-hour news cycle of death and destruction, and going for the beauty of the binge. 

 

 

 

 

Politics, Local and Otherwise.

This is a column I wrote in 2016, before I knew the results of the Presidential election. I'm not a fan of the President, but he's got the job, so, here we are. I am running for office, locally. Because I believe it's important to show up. My father taught me this, he was wise, he was kind and he was everything a father and man should be. I so wish he could see me now.

“Just because you do not take an interest in politics does not mean that politics won’t take an interest in you.”

— Pericles

By the time this is printed, we will have a new president. Whoever it is will have made history. It’s been quite something this time around. No matter where you stood on the issues or whose sign was on your lawn, this election probably caused some stress, anxiety and maybe even fights with friends and family. There were new lows in some of the campaigning and definitely some high points too. Everyone could likely agree on that even if no agreement could be reached on who was best for the job.

Early voting was a thing this year, and while a quick check of Google tells me it’s not really new and that some states like Texas and Oregon have had it for awhile, it still seems both new and old at the same time. I am used to voting in the gym at the Rec and Park building, but early voters went to Abbot Hall. It’s definitely hometown bias and pride, but is there any place more historic, more American and more suited to this crucial part of democracy than a building that houses a famous painting of the very beginnings of our republic? Still, I decided to hold out and vote on Election Day because growing up, even for small races, it was a very big deal. There was an energy to it that just doesn’t happen, for me at least, until the actual day.

My father entered politics early and often, having been elected to some imaginary office by his classmates on the school bus at the beginning of his freshman year of high school. From then on if there was an office to be held, chances were good that he would throw his hat in the ring. School committee was by far his favorite and where he spent most of his “political” career. Whenever town elections were held, I knew that a large part of the day would find him holding a sign on the sidewalk and the night would be spent waiting around town hall, the smell of paper ballots and cigarettes in the air. A chalkboard was the 1960s version of an electoral map, and a long table with a few telephones on it was the communications center. On this night only, I was allowed to stay up late and wait for the votes to be counted. Some years it took almost an hour in the little town of Nahant to count all the votes. That was politics back in the day, and as much as I love social media and advanced technology, there’s something to be said for going old school.

What hasn’t changed in politics, however, is the concept of being part of the process. Not everyone wants to run for office, and, certainly, not everyone should. That isn’t the only way to take part, however. Did you vote this week? For anyone who didn’t, it’s now time for you to sit down and keep quiet. Early voting went on for 11 days here in town with a total of 89 hours of availability. Then, on Nov. 8, polls were open from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m., offering another 13 hours. Absentee ballots were available for those who might have been out of town. There was plenty of time to get out and vote. Perhaps some people just chose not to vote. Honestly, it’s easier for me to comprehend the Periodic Table of Elements than it is to understand the choice not to vote, and that is saying something since I flunked high school chemistry.

My father gave me many things, from red hair and green eyes to a wicked attitude and a love of car rides to nowhere, but the most important of them has to be the belief that voting in elections, at every level, is vital to all of our lives. He believed in the process; he believed it was a citizen’s sacred duty to cast a ballot whenever one was offered. And he believed it started at home, in our own communities. For him, it was about standing up and showing up. Here’s to moving on, to another four years, to new laws and old battles and to the never-ending cycle of determining who we are and how we will run our towns, our states and our country.

What’s next?