Dave | unobtrusive lucidity

Evolution of Thankfulness

Thanksgiving was quiet this year. Delayed a day by the storm that blanketed a good bit of New England with our first significant snow of the season, we celebrated with only our family and my in-laws. One afternoon of eating and good conversation, then a drive home and (I’m sad to say) some online Black Friday shopping. That was all. The weekend was really a non-event.

As I returned from meeting a friend for coffee this evening, I was thinking about Thanksgivings of years past. If I rewind a decade or so, to the early years of our marriage, I remember flying from where we lived then to where we are now. Thanksgiving was always the major holiday of the year for my wife’s side of the family, and I can recall many trips…sometimes smooth, sometimes with drama, sometimes fraught with travel delays…over the years. What I remember most, however, was that the celebration was always big when we arrived. This weekend, we sat and reminisced about those years, the family who came…some of whom we haven’t seen in far too long…the discussions that were held. The pattern over the years, seemingly ever since we moved back to New England, has been that the celebrations have been growing smaller and smaller. This year some more family moved away, and the end result was that our Thanksgiving gathering was about as small as one could imagine.

I’m sad, in a way. Having grown up in a small family, I was always amazed at how welcomed (and overwhelmed, but in a good way) I was by my wife’s much larger side of the family, many of whom I only saw during the holidays. Now, in some strange paradox, we live here, and I see them even less often. I feel as though there’s a reality distortion field at play.

This year, I’ve been going through a dark time. I hinted at this in a previous post, and it’s only gotten worse. What I hold on to, though, is the lesson learned that the relationships that we have with our family, with our friends, far transcends the issues that bring us down, that threaten to wreck havoc on our lives and upend the order that we know. When these issues happen…and they will…it’s so incredibly important to have these holiday traditions and gatherings to anchor us. They may evolve over time, but they must remain.

We need those reminders.

We need the sense of normalcy.

We need each other.

No matter how small they may appear, I will hold onto those, because they help me to stay centered. I pray, dear reader, that you have these traditions and gatherings, as well.

Why the Acolyte’s Cancellation is Good News

A model of the Millenium Falcon from Star Wars. Used under Creative Commons.

I sort of have difficulty believing that I’m writing a post about Star Wars. There’s one other that I’ve written to my knowledge, a review of the Force Awakens (spoiler: I wasn’t impressed), which I ended by affirming my stance that there had only been three Star Wars movies. When I introduced my daughter to Star Wars, I began with A New Hope, and sort of pretended that the rest hadn’t happened. The prequels were of very poor quality (you can’t have Jar Jar Binks and a good movie…they’re just mutually exclusive), and it was obvious to me with the Force Awakens that Disney was just recycling stories to squeeze more money out of the franchise.

I was perfectly content with that perspective for years.

Then, there was a pandemic, and while exceptionally bored one night, we decided to try the Mandalorian. This brought me back into the newer Star Wars programming in a positive way, because the Mandalorian is excellent. Since then, I’ve found the small screen adventures overall have been hit and miss…there are complete wastes of time like Obi-Wan Kenobi, and exceptional standouts like Andor. I’ve watched most of the Star Wars canon through the latest series at this point. I still have little room in my life for the prequels, and I’ve never seen (and don’t intend to see) the last two films. In general, though, a new series will get me in front of the television.

The first episode of the Acolyte grabbed my attention. I’m largely unfamiliar with the High Republic era, and this episode did what a good first episode should…left the viewer with so, so many questions and pondering how this fit into the larger timeline. By the halfway point, though, I was tuning in out of a determination just to finish what I had started, not because I had any interest whatsoever.

The reason for this isn’t any that I’ve encountered among blogs and podcasts of the Star Wars faithful. There are rants everywhere in that very vocal community, including the inevitable accusations of racism and intolerance being thrown at Disney leadership. Everyone has an opinion, and the Internet allows the vocalization of those opinions, but there is something deeper at play here, I think.

My issue with the direction of Star Wars in general is its departure from Lucas’ original vision in a fundamental, metaphysical way. Star Wars, at its core, is about good vs. evil, which is why it resonated with so many viewers at its debut. The Jedi and the Rebellion were good, the Empire was evil. Now, let me say that I’m not arguing that the canon should never have expanded. Lucas’ genius was dropping small references to events of the past or other people in the characters’ lives without ever digging into them, which leaves so many potential story arcs for a generation of new writers. More than perhaps any other franchise I know of, he set this up for continuation from the beginning, and that was brilliant. With these new stories will undoubtedly come new perspectives. When those perspectives depart from the original world-building at such a foundational level, though, we run into issues.

The most recent iterations of Star Wars…I would argue even going back to the prequels…have been increasingly obsessed with the fact that the Jedi can’t actually be as good as we’ve been led to believe. This isn’t unique to Star Wars, either.

For the past decade or more, it seems that most heroes are antiheroes. The dominant opinion of our cultural moment is that no one can be good, that there is actually no such thing as good. All is subjective. Postmodernism has reached its conclusion. This cynicism makes its way into the writing of our popular culture, and deconstructs fictional character groups like the Jedi. A group that originally stood for good in the universe is now revealed to have been so hopelessly flawed from the beginning that our faith in them is found to have been misplaced. That sort of good can’t exist.

So, what to do, then? If we allow this cynicism to carry us on its current, then the Rebellion must be cut of similar cloth. So, why resist the Empire? Perhaps Thrawn should be our new role model. Give in to the evil, this thought process would tell us, because the good is an illusion.

Nihlist, much?

A lot has happened in the world over the decades since Star Wars first made its impression on my generation, much of it bad. My glasses are not rose-colored. I don’t blame anyone for reaching a point of pessimism in their lives. To give up on the concept of good, however…to refuse to believe in heroes…is to give up on what makes us human.

My issue with the Acolyte is its embracing of evil. My issue with the Acolyte is its message that all attempt at good is doomed. My issue with the Acolyte is its lack of hope, that it left me feeling empty at its conclusion.

Were this to be the pattern of Star Wars moving forward, my opinion would revert to where it was prior to experiencing the Mandalorian. That is, I would be finished with the franchise in its current state. The fact that the Acolyte has not been renewed gives me hope that future stories will return to good triumphing over evil.

That is, after all, a message that we desperately need in our own universe.

Image attribution: Michael Panse under Creative Commons.

Journey Through a Back Yard

A heart composed of flowers and other items my daughters found in the back yard.

My parents still live in the house in which I grew up. They have a large back yard. I’m of the age in which I’m struck by a good deal of memories whenever I visit. As I write this, I’ve been here for the week to assist my parents with various things. I take walks through that big back yard whenever I visit of late, and there’s an odd mental thing that happens: I can visualize the arrangements and different states of the back yard…and, for that matter, the rest of their home…through the decades. With those visualizations come certain, very specific memories.

These vivid memories began some time ago, and have only grown over the years. I think that it’s easy to lapse into these memories because of how amazingly quiet it is where my parents live…it’s a very rural area, so the lack of noise is palpable when visiting. The memories that strike me so vividly have become almost formulaic by this point.

I remember playing near the apple trees in a Spider-Man mask when I was a kid.

When I was a bit older, I would step through the back door from my room to the yard and pretend that it was interior of my TARDIS.

The first time that I saw Transformers, I re-enacted scenes from that first episode in our side yard. That series, incidentally, was life-altering to a kid my age.

Perhaps the most amazing memory involves a storage shed on their property. When I was a kid, my dad built a secret club-house inside of that shed. There was a table, and I later put a map on the wall to make it a secret headquarters. It was secret…the door was hidden, a secret panel in the outside wall that opened when a small peg was pulled. My dad put so much love and attention into that clubhouse.

For the last few years, the moments that strike me about this back yard have grown in number. I remember chasing fireflies with my daughters. I remember a Father’s Day when my daughters made a heart from various found items and placed it in the back yard. They couldn’t wait to show me, and when we visit lately, they can’t wait to chase fireflies with me.

A generation has passed, and I’m watching them form memories in this same back yard that they will (I hope) always take with them, just as I have. I think a lot families in other parts of the world experience this with homes and properties that are passed down through generations, and we often aren’t able to experience it because our culture has become so nomadic. I’m glad I’ve gotten to in at least a small way, because the perception of time brings this incredible shift in perspective around your loved ones. One realizes what is important.

This week, I was thinking about how I felt guilty about not playing in that secret clubhouse enough. My dad and I talked about how much attention he put into it. He was proud of that project. Before I left, I thanked him for building that awesome gift, for giving it so much effort. He said, sincerely, “you’re welcome.”

That moment was profoundly meaningful. As meaningful as any that have happened in that amazing back yard.

Re-Focus

When life gives you lemons…well, you know the adage. It’s sort of cringe-worthy at this point, but still springs to mind a lot because, well, let’s face it…life seems to have a particular fondness for lemons.

I’ve been forced to re-focus quite a bit over the course of the last year, confronted with a mirror that I didn’t particularly want to look into. I’m glad that I did, because I’ve realized a lot of places where my life has gone wrong due to decisions I’ve made, and have been able to work to correct those decisions. I thought that was the path I was on for the next year or so, and was content for that to be enough, because it’s hard work.

The onslaught of lemons wasn’t quite at an end, as it turns out. The catalyst that forced my introspection last year was an unceremonious layoff that left us scrambling for income. There was a point at which I wasn’t sure if we would be able to keep our home, or if we would have to move. The dust seemed to have settled in a decidedly better place emotionally, and we were settling into a new rhythm, when, about three weeks ago, another serious event happened…the sort that causes life to become extremely uncertain and introduces a feeling of things spiraling out of control. Again.

During the initial days, I reckoned with the stress and anxiety that such an event introduces. There’s a great deal of difficulty in approaching day-to-day life when it feels like things have shifted at a fundamental level. That weekend, there was a family event and we attended. I thought it was going to be a small event…as it turned out, a lot of extended family that I hadn’t seen in a long time were there.

Among them was a nephew that I hadn’t seen in…well, in too long. I remember this guy when he was a baby. About ten years ago, he visited us for a couple of days. He was into superheroes at the time, and I have this great memory of us watching Justice League Unlimited while he was there. We did some other fun family things, but that’s the memory that’s most prominent for me. I thought I was just being a cool uncle.

When he saw me a few days ago, he gave me a big hug. The first thing that he said was that he still remembers watching Justice League Unlimited with me all those years ago, and that he occasionally still goes back to re-watch that series (it’s a really good animated series, by the way…extremely well written). We got to hang out a bit that weekend…nothing big, but it all seemed so important to him, each small event holding this weight of importance in his perception.

We’re still working on righting the ship after this recent event, but that weekend helped me gain a very important perspective. Choosing to watch an animated superhero show with a nephew all those years ago turned out to be a foundational event in a family relationship. So was this recent weekend. Those relationships…the people, their journeys, and how those journeys intersect with ours…are so much more important than jobs, finances, schools, and the other things that we place at such high value. More important by an order of magnitude. I had no idea that I was serving as such an example to this family member. I am humbled and honored, and that will continue despite the state of these other concerns.

So, I’m continuing to learn. I think what I’m (re-)learning is that the most important things in life aren’t tied to careers, income, and those sorts of things. I’m learning that relationships with people are so, so much more important, especially in a digital world that holds them at held at arms’ length. I’m learning that the most important things in life are generally different than what I perceive my priorities to be.

Nostalgia in Perspective

About a year ago, I decided to re-watch the first season of Heroes. When the series first debuted, we were just married, and life was full of promise. It was, after all, the Before Times, our lives were still mostly academic, and what better to settle in to watch on a weeknight than a fascinating new take on superheroes? I was hooked.

The series, in my recollection, declined a bit in quality. Season 2 fell victim to the 2007 writer’s strike, and I was unimpressed by season 3. As I began collecting the Blu-Rays last year, though, I decided to go all the way through…to give it another chance. I’m glad, because the quality gets better again as the series progresses.

I’m not writing about Heroes, though…perhaps in another post.

As I’ve re-watched these episodes, the technology grabs my attention (product placement was really a thing in that time), primarily their mobile phones. You see, this was before we all had ubiquitous connectivity provided by slabs of glass that we carry in our pockets. These were the days of text-only data connections and physical keyboards. Better days, I would argue.

They were also the days before I made some choices based on discontent that pushed our family into a new direction, a career change that ultimately resulted in time away from my family and poor health for years, decisions that caused un-necessary stress and close financial calls through the subsequent years, to say nothing of the close friends with whom we’ve lost touch. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because, had I to do things over again, I would go back to that point and make a different decision. Watching a television series from that time period is just bringing that home for me.

It’s easy, especially when one reaches a certain age, to become steeped in nostalgia. In my case (I’m guessing I’m not alone), this is informed by the fact that life was slower, less stressful, less chaotic then. We weren’t ruled by Big Tech yet. I could look at the future and still be hopeful.

The natural inclination of this sort of nostalgic impulse is twofold: dwell in memories, and try to force life back to what it was. Neither of these are productive. The first wastes time when permitted to become consuming, the second will never work because it’s simply not possible. That’s a topic for a different day. My point is that I put effort into both of those, and they were wasted efforts. As Bonhoeffer has been quoted as saying:

“If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction”
Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I have to make the best of where I am, where we are, with the lessons I’ve learned. I have to allow those experiences to make me better. I have to work to bring the best of the Before Times into the present, because we unfortunately can’t go back.

Hopefully, that’s helpful to my fellow nostalgia addicts.