Cool
Illusion, Cruel Reality
Charlie Earl
Frankly I’m
sick and tired of “hip and cool.” Perhaps that’s because I’ve never been either
of them and I’m somewhat jealous of those who are. Or it could be because I’m a
notoriously slow adopter of trendy notions. For example…I bought my first (and
only) green leisure suit in the mid-eighties long after the trendy fashion
statement had faded into obscurity. It seems as if I’ve spent my entire life
two beats behind the prevailing drummer. Of course…I’ve never had much
rhythm...lousy dancer. I’m not certain if my attitude reflects my disgust with
those who chase “the latest new thing,” or with my own doubt and self loathing
because I’ve never been able to catch the trend.
My
“un-hipness” extends to areas other than fashion such as contemporary
entertainment. “America’s Home Videos” seems to be the opening salvo in our
current obsession with “reality” television. I’ve watched it once and thought
it vapid. I’ve not viewed “Idol” or any of its numerous copycats. “Glee” was my
program of choice for one episode, and I watched it because it was suggested by
a friend. News, business and sports comprise my viewing portfolio with
occasional escapist trips into RFD-TV and “Booknotes” on C-SPAN 2. Actually,
aside from Buckeye sports, my only “can’t miss” program is “Presley’s Country
Jubilee” on RFD-TV, Saturday evenings at 7:30pm (EST). I also enjoy “Larry’s
Country Diner” and “Country’s Family Reunion” on that same channel (#345 on
DirectTV). Each and every day my appreciation grows for the old traditional
entertainment and programming. Patsy Cline and Marty Robbins are still great
stars in my unhip cavalcade.
As I have
grown older, my desire to be “current” has been replaced by disdain for the
“new.” I can’t decide if I’m similar to Walter Matthau in “Grumpy Old Men” or
more like Clint Eastwood in “Gran Torino.” The Lennon Sisters, Rolling Stones
and I are older now, and I suspect that our priorities may have changed. I know
mine have. I no longer lust for Janet Lennon nor do I wish I shared Mick’s sexy
appeal. They are both old… just like me. Today Janet (who is my age) appears
appealingly matronly while Mick seems ludicrous (not the rapper, Ludacris). I
wonder if my retreat into the traditional memories may be simply a mechanism
for coping with the rapid change that confronts me, or is it a recognition that
some things of the past that I previously dismissed really do have value?
Most of us
love or know someone who is in the grasp of Alzheimer’s, dementia or senility.
We compassionately express our sorrow about the circumstances and assume that
the experience may be much more difficult for caregivers and loved ones than it
is for the afflicted one. In those instances that have personally affected me,
the patients frustration at being unable to recall recent events was painful to
observe, but when the individual retreated into an historical memory zone, the
attitude, the demeanor or the confidence they exhibited was precious. For
me…the saddest part of these excursions into the past was that I was not a part
of them. It’s as if I were a plant or an uninvolved observer who was witnessing
an event from long ago.
Some people
have managed to survive childhoods filled with horror and agony. Do they… if
they slip into the foggy universe of dementia, relive the terrors of times long
past? Or do they recall more pleasant occasions? Do they enjoy the cool
illusions of make-believe memories or are they once again confronted by cruel
realities? Maybe those of us who fondly recall the pleasantries of our past are
merely loading our memories for the gentle slide into yesterday. I really don’t
intend to be maudlin, but sometimes I wonder if memories can be God’s tender
gateway to blessed eternity.
Charlie Earl
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