The Sun Will Rise Again As Time And Time It Does, And I Will Stand Here Looking At It Exactly As I Was
--"I Don't Know a Thing", Lucy Schwartz
Sometimes it's rather odd that I enjoy adolescent melodrama as much as I do. Whether it was my first (and true) love, Avonlea, to shows like Buffy and Everwood, there's something about watching other people go through the same trials and travails as me and my friends that intrigues me. It isn't merely the identification factor, but delves deeper into an almost connection with these characters, which is the goal of any good or even great show. Sure, there's a myriad of shows centered around grown-ups that I enjoy highly too. Shows like Dexter, The Office, and 24 all fill my quota for spending time with the grown-up set. However, I never really feel a part of their world. My world is similar to those shows, but I can't quite say that everything that they may be experiencing is what I've experienced before or am experiencing now--not like I can with the teenage melodrama programs aforementioned.
Take, for instance, the new show the girls have pinned me to watching regularly, Gossip Girl. Now there's a show that time and time again provides me with many "been there, done that" moments. In much the same vein as Everwood, I'm constantly watching the scenes and telling myself (or whomever I might be talking with at the time) that, change a few words of dialogue and maybe shift the location, you would have my exact memory of when I had to have a similar talk, make a similar decision, or lose something innocent about myself in much the same way. Tonight's episode, where Dan and Serena were talking on the elevator and coming to the conclusion that this third go at trying to make their relationship work wasn't going to come to fruition could have been lifted from a similar situation that I had with Tara in her car while the rain was pouring outside. It wasn't just the heartache of realizing that love doesn't always conquer all; it felt nostalgic for me because it also represented that sense that if you do stay together all that will happen is that you'll have the same fights, make up in the exact same way, and start the process all over again. I too have been in the mire of having to say good-bye when the relationship didn't feel exactly over and having to walk away from something that still felt right and special in so many ways.
That's just my spin on things. I'm sure it happens to us all, where we'll be watching or reading a piece of drama and catch a glimpse of our mirage image in the works. That's why some themes truly are universal. Some experiences all of us go through--first love, unrequited love, first ethical quandary, first loss of someone to death--and perhaps I'm just reading a bit too much in the idea that these events have only happened to me. I tend to do that sometimes. I tend to isolate myself as being the forbearer of all human emotion or experience. I lose myself in my own self-delusion for stretches at a time and am truly surprised when a show can illustrate to me that I'm not as special as I believe myself to be. I'm astonished when said show can so carefully mimic what I thought was unique, so lost in the depths of my selfishness. I don't mean to be, honestly.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one hurts like we hurt.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one laughs like we laugh.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one has had moments like the moments we have had.
The truth is that, the majority of the time, if it's happened to one of us it's pretty much happened to all of us at one time or another. This is not to say that there aren't moments of complete originality, moments like Sam in the movie Garden State says, "can never be recreated ever again." I'm fairly sure no one has celebrated their fifteenth birthday like we celebrated Breanne's fifteenth birthday. I'm fairly sure no one has ever shed his underwear at work so early into their for the idiotic reason I had to shed my underwear at Universal Studios. And I'm fairly sure no one has ever attempted to jump a drawbridge while it was being raised up in the greater Northeastern region of the United States "just for the hell of it." I can claim those as my own. Even if someone else has done all those things, I can pretty much assure that I would still be in some rarified company.
But like the characters on Gossip Girl, I'm not the only one to have fallen in love with someone who seemed so right for me at the time, but, in hindsight, turned out to be wrong in small, almost imperceptible ways. I'm not the only one to have had what seemed their worst mistake in life turn out to be the first step in the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm not the only one to have wanted someone so much I felt the pangs of desperation compel me to act irrationally and without regard for my own safety. Those are the anecdotes we all have in common.
the only thing I know
is I don't know a thing
The more I reflect on this syndrome the more I see that everybody I bump into is relatable in this fashion. These experiences, these nuggets of growth and maturity are what links us in the greater bond of humanity. Maybe the sense of deja vu that comes creeping on me when I watch shows is the same sense that inevitably comes over us all. I think just as the sun rises for all of us and not just for me so do these shows hold a mirror to all who may be watching at the time.
And not just me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Sometimes it's rather odd that I enjoy adolescent melodrama as much as I do. Whether it was my first (and true) love, Avonlea, to shows like Buffy and Everwood, there's something about watching other people go through the same trials and travails as me and my friends that intrigues me. It isn't merely the identification factor, but delves deeper into an almost connection with these characters, which is the goal of any good or even great show. Sure, there's a myriad of shows centered around grown-ups that I enjoy highly too. Shows like Dexter, The Office, and 24 all fill my quota for spending time with the grown-up set. However, I never really feel a part of their world. My world is similar to those shows, but I can't quite say that everything that they may be experiencing is what I've experienced before or am experiencing now--not like I can with the teenage melodrama programs aforementioned.Take, for instance, the new show the girls have pinned me to watching regularly, Gossip Girl. Now there's a show that time and time again provides me with many "been there, done that" moments. In much the same vein as Everwood, I'm constantly watching the scenes and telling myself (or whomever I might be talking with at the time) that, change a few words of dialogue and maybe shift the location, you would have my exact memory of when I had to have a similar talk, make a similar decision, or lose something innocent about myself in much the same way. Tonight's episode, where Dan and Serena were talking on the elevator and coming to the conclusion that this third go at trying to make their relationship work wasn't going to come to fruition could have been lifted from a similar situation that I had with Tara in her car while the rain was pouring outside. It wasn't just the heartache of realizing that love doesn't always conquer all; it felt nostalgic for me because it also represented that sense that if you do stay together all that will happen is that you'll have the same fights, make up in the exact same way, and start the process all over again. I too have been in the mire of having to say good-bye when the relationship didn't feel exactly over and having to walk away from something that still felt right and special in so many ways.
That's just my spin on things. I'm sure it happens to us all, where we'll be watching or reading a piece of drama and catch a glimpse of our mirage image in the works. That's why some themes truly are universal. Some experiences all of us go through--first love, unrequited love, first ethical quandary, first loss of someone to death--and perhaps I'm just reading a bit too much in the idea that these events have only happened to me. I tend to do that sometimes. I tend to isolate myself as being the forbearer of all human emotion or experience. I lose myself in my own self-delusion for stretches at a time and am truly surprised when a show can illustrate to me that I'm not as special as I believe myself to be. I'm astonished when said show can so carefully mimic what I thought was unique, so lost in the depths of my selfishness. I don't mean to be, honestly.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one hurts like we hurt.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one laughs like we laugh.
It's easier for some of us to believe that no one has had moments like the moments we have had.
The truth is that, the majority of the time, if it's happened to one of us it's pretty much happened to all of us at one time or another. This is not to say that there aren't moments of complete originality, moments like Sam in the movie Garden State says, "can never be recreated ever again." I'm fairly sure no one has celebrated their fifteenth birthday like we celebrated Breanne's fifteenth birthday. I'm fairly sure no one has ever shed his underwear at work so early into their for the idiotic reason I had to shed my underwear at Universal Studios. And I'm fairly sure no one has ever attempted to jump a drawbridge while it was being raised up in the greater Northeastern region of the United States "just for the hell of it." I can claim those as my own. Even if someone else has done all those things, I can pretty much assure that I would still be in some rarified company.
But like the characters on Gossip Girl, I'm not the only one to have fallen in love with someone who seemed so right for me at the time, but, in hindsight, turned out to be wrong in small, almost imperceptible ways. I'm not the only one to have had what seemed their worst mistake in life turn out to be the first step in the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm not the only one to have wanted someone so much I felt the pangs of desperation compel me to act irrationally and without regard for my own safety. Those are the anecdotes we all have in common.
the only thing I know
is I don't know a thing
The more I reflect on this syndrome the more I see that everybody I bump into is relatable in this fashion. These experiences, these nuggets of growth and maturity are what links us in the greater bond of humanity. Maybe the sense of deja vu that comes creeping on me when I watch shows is the same sense that inevitably comes over us all. I think just as the sun rises for all of us and not just for me so do these shows hold a mirror to all who may be watching at the time.
And not just me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Labels: Avonlea, Everwood, Gossip Girl, growing up, Lucy Schwartz, parallels
posted by mojo shivers @ 1:06 AM
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