Familiarity and the consequent contempt
Chaucer said it first (and best): familiarity breeds contempt.
This evening, we tried to watch a new series, WandaVision. We lasted only minutes. Not that the story is poorly done, or that the stars aren’t up to the task. No, it comes down to something deeper. We’re too old.
Imagine TV in the 50s. Perhaps you can’t, due to memory fades, or to your age. Maybe you didn’t see the presentation in its original form (B&W, with strings pizicatto). That could allow you to enjoy this new program. We couldn’t. Seen it all before. And that’s not the fault of the people on stage. We’re too old. The lines of Shakespeare, for example, can be presented more than once. Not so for the humour of early TV. It doesn’t get better, the second or third time around. I’m declaring a hard pass on this material.
On a more trivial note, we received a sprinkling of fresh (snow) powder overnight. Suddenly the world is back to clean and free of imperfection. Even the dog accepted seeing where he had been. I don’t want to check the forecast.
Right now, many await the list. Of pardons. For sins that were never committed. Fake news, right? We have only a few hours remaining in the *hit show, and the world is ready to accept whatever. At least we don’t seem to have WW3, or worse, on the chyron. Imagine! By this time tomorrow, a return to sanity! I know: don’t count those chickens just yet. But there’s hope, where there hasn’t been any for several years.
