Reboot is Just Another Name for Old Shit.

I read in an entertainment piece yesterday that there are planned for or currently in production over one hundred reboots of old television programs.

One hundred!

Murphy Brown, Roseanne, Will and Grace, Swat, Charmed, Hawaii Five-O, One Day at a Time, Dynasty, The X-Files, Party of Five, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, MacGyver, Prison Break, The Office, American Idol, and even those wacky Animaniacs are making their way back to a network near you. (Truth be told? I'm really ok with that last one.)

And that's just a beginner's list.

One hundred!

That's more programming than most of us watch in a year.

I've been giving this complete lack of creativity and total disregard for originality some deep thought and honestly, all I can come up with is Kohelet.

What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 1:9)

It feels like we have come to the end of television. The reruns are now making their own reruns. I feel like TV is living its own perverse version of Groundhog Day and we, the viewing audience, are being massively played. We sit there in front of our screens like fucking zombies and digest and regurgitate all that is fed to us. We have surely become the Deltas and Epsilons that Aldous Huxley cautioned could be our fate. (You really need to read Huxley's Brave New World.)

But...it is a fascinating concept, this idea of a reboot. What if we could take the events in our own lives, run them through a "Wayback Machine," tweak the storylines to fit our current narratives, add a few characters, and finally live the lives we always wanted for ourselves. What if we had a chance to do it again? Would we do it differently?

Maybe I would have been more aware of the front step that time I broke my foot and almost dropped Younger Son on his head? Maybe I would have insisted that we NOT set out on the interstate in the middle of an ice storm? Maybe I would have spent more time listening to my grandparents and their stories? Maybe I would have taken more time to play and less time to clean up?

Maybe?

But here's the problem with reboots. They are never as good as the originals. We long for the nostalgia of what we knew; some sepia-coloured bygone era that can never be replicated or duplicated. We hope that the 2018 version of Murphy Brown will bestow a shit-laden tongue-lashing to the current holder of the Oval, but we know in our hearts that it can't be nearly as good or nearly as funny as the one she gave to Dan Quayle. As much as that accident on I75 in the ice terrified me, the resulting time together and family stories have lasted a lifetime. We learned valuable lessons from that experience. Lessons that I wouldn't trade for anything.

The problem with reboots is that we tend to look backward instead of forward. We tend to lazily reach for what is easy and avoid that which might challenge or confound us. A reboot is candy for the Deltas and Epsilons in a world where we should be striving to be Alphas.

Kohelet also states: "There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven." (Ecclesiastes 3:1)

We need to live our lives as if there are no do-overs, no reboots. Live your life in such a way that, if given the opportunity, you would do it the same way all over again. No regrets. No reboots. Demand better.

Shabbat Shalom to all who observe.

Remembrance.....Yizkor Elohim

Today we remember....

We remember the complexities and the contradictions that are forever mingled with the simplicities and the affirmations.

We remember the distances left unresolved that are camouflaged by moments of pure sincerity.

We remember the stoicism that is muted by wild peals of laughter.

We remember the seemingly impenetrable that was permeated by acts of undiluted love.

We remember the enigma that was comfortable in that cloak.

We remember the pain and suffering of death that is muted by the joy and exhilaration of life.


Yizkor Elohim....

Where's the Sense of Occasion?

I just had an very interesting conversation with Younger Son and for some reason I felt the need to address it in the blogosphere. It isn't a secret that he is on the cusp of his graduation from university and it certainly isn't a secret how tremendously proud we all are. He has worked so hard and deserves all accolades coming his way. But in a fashion that is typical for him and many others I know, he is terribly non-plussed about the whole thing. I have been trying to figure out why this is bothering me so much and I think that I finally have. I believe that there is a terrible lack of occasion present in his outlook.

Maybe my frustration is borne from the fact that I have not had the pleasure of seeing either of my children graduation from anything since grade school and that trend will continue this spring. You see, camp has always taken priority. Graduations typically occur in June and have ALWAYS coincided with the opening of the camp season. As a committed camp alum and parent, I know that I should be dripping with pride at the special place that camp has had in my sons' lives and, frankly I know that we had a great deal to do with that. But, honestly! One stinking graduation ceremony is all that I ask for!

This year the problem is as much about American Homeland Security as it is about Younger Son's ambivalence. And trust me, his ambivalence is great! When the conflict of dates was discovered, I did try to procure airline tickets to bring him home for his convocation. The problem is that the visa granted to him only allows him one crossing of the American border. If he attempts to cross back, it renders the visa null and void. There went the grand plan of attending a graduation ceremony. I was suitably upset and still am, but the rest of my family-including Younger Son-don't seem to think it a big deal. Even before the border shut us down, he was not at all interested in sitting in a sweaty Convocation Hall with thousands of others in order to have his few minutes of glory. It matters not at all to him. The degree matters. The work matters. The accomplishment matters. The occasion doesn't.

In order to try and alleviate some of my disappointment, (and yes it is MY disappointment) we planned a family dinner at a nice restaurant to celebrate. Very low key and very in keeping with what he wants. I am just fine with this, honestly I am, but I can't help but wondering to where has our sense of occasion disappeared? I'm not talking big over-the-top events. I'm talking about simply recognizing a life event and making it matter. There are so few of these celebratory moments in life, it seems to me we should do all we can to make them special. Why are we so quick to dismiss them and render them unimportant?

You see, I do think that the occasion matters. I do think that we should celebrate whenever given the chance. Life is simply too damned short not to. I do think that we should applaud ourselves and those we love when milestones occur. I think we should find purpose in these events and see them for the stepping stones that they are. So tonight, I will celebrate the accomplishments of my son. I will dress nicely and I will snap his picture. I might even order dessert! I will toast him and all that he has done and I will let him see my pride. Because this is one occasion that I believe does matter.