Aging With the Culture

I know of the tragic anguish of the Red Wedding...

When Dan Stevens didn't renew his contract, I saw the writing on the wall for Matthew Crawley...

Happy Endings is gone, but Community remains – barely...

Jack Bauer is coming back...

I know, but will not reveal, the true identity of John Harrison...

I know where Bernadette went...

Mumford and Sons, Dawes, the Decemberists, Jack White, the Black Keys – all have found their way onto my iPod...

A culture-saavy stranger, stumbling upon this blog for the first time, might not be surprised at any of the above confessions – until I reveal that the said iPod was a gift for my sixtieth birthday. Yep, six-oh. And those artists share the playlist with the more boomer-appropriate Eric, Neil, Bob, Paul and Art...

A much younger friend recently commented on the fact that I was more up on relevant cultural issues than he was (though I'm not certain how relevant the above issues actually are...). His comment did cause me to reflect on how I came to be this way. My conclusion? I just can't help myself - I'm the kind of person who hates to think I'm missing anything...

When I was growing up, the combination of being an avid (compulsive?) reader and an intensely curious child left me always wanting to know about everything. I would read anything left lying around the house. The Reader's Digest was responsible for my coming home in third grade and proudly announcing to my horrified mother that I was the only person in my Girl Scout troop that knew what venereal disease was. (I honestly don't remember how the subject came up. I think maybe we were discussing communicable diseases, and I volunteered my newly-acquired knowledge.) I was unclear on much of what I read but used the dictionary and an even-then-old Funk and Wagnalls Encyclopedia to fill in the gaps of what I didn't understand.

As I got a little older, I moved on to newspapers. I read movie and theater reviews, though I almost never went to see either. I knew the plots of them all, as well as the actors and actresses in them. As adolescence approached, I read some racy radical 60's books, away from the eyes of my mother (and anyone else, for that matter). I was basically a “good” girl, with a healthy amount of Catholic guilt. I was very aware that though others did not see what I was reading, God did. So I bargained with Him. If I didn't have to reveal my “wicked” reading in the confessional, I promised Him I'd never actually “do” whatever I was reading about at the time. Though it was quite a few years before I entered into a mature relationship with God, I think the bargain saved me from getting into all kinds of reading-inspired trouble that I could have stumbled into during my teen years. 
 
As an adult, my curiosity about culture continued, though I sincerely tried to hold it at arm's length. My kids accused me of making them get braces so I could read the People Magazine in the orthodontist's office because I'd never go out and actually buy one. The arrival of the internet made it easy to satisfy my cultural curiosity. Everything I want to know is now just a click away... 
 
So, I have never actually seen The Game of Thrones or Happy Endings, only rarely Community, but a cursory scanning of the the headlines of Entertainment Weekly gives me more than I need to know to feel like I'm not missing out on some significant cultural media event. My favorite website? The IMDb, a dream-come-true for those like me who frequently utter the words “What have I seen him in before?” 
 
I do watch Downton Abbey and have seen the new Star Trek movie (and know way more about Benedict Cumberbatch than any woman of my age should, though I do not identify myself as a Cumberb****...) I have read Maria Semple's quirky book and have dutifully watched 24 with my husband. And, yes, I do actually listen to, enjoy and am knowledgeable about a wide variety of music. (I recently drew a blank on a reference to Neutral Milk Hotel. Fortunately, I am married to a man whose vast knowledge of the music of the past 50 years easily filled in the blank for me. I pleaded ignorance of Neutral Milk Hotel based on my belief that no real music was made in the 80's...) 
 

So, here I am, a brief step into the seventh decade of my life, wondering who the next Doctor will be. Matt Smith, I love you to bits and I'll miss you, and Rory and Amy were the best companions ever, but Tom Baker will always be my first love. After all, I am sixty...

There is a very fine line between 'hobby' and 'mental illness.'

                        - Dave Berry, "25 Things I Have Learned in 50 Years"