WHERE HAVE ALL THE FLOWERS GONE?
A.K.A. CHANGING THE HABITS OF A LIFETIME
Random thoughts for Thursday, 5 April 2023.
“Some things had been a lifetime habit, things I engaged in for 50 years. Enthusiastically so. Now, they’re inconsequential memories of a bygone era.”
I’m a consumer. We’re all consumers. Consumers of information. Consumers of news. Consumers of entertainment. Consumers of whatever comes before our eyes and into our ears. Whether we like it or not, we’re all sponges. We consume.
For as long as I can remember, certain things always have been habitual. They are the habits of a lifetime. I couldn’t imagine changing them, for doing so would fundamentally alter who I am.
But old habits do not, as they say, die hard. Sometimes, they just die. Sometimes, our habits simply die out. Perhaps this is entirely predictable and due to evolution. Perhaps those habits don’t bring us quite the same satisfaction as before. Perhaps we look upon things differently, including how we spend our precious time, which becomes increasingly sacred as one moves into the September of our years:
Reading the Daily Newspaper:
Since I was a teenager, I’ve always read the daily newspaper in any city where I’ve lived. The Dallas Times Herald. The Dallas Morning News. Austin American Statesman. The Washington Post. Scintea (“The Spark”). The Las Vegas Sun. The Las Vegas Review-Journal. These weren’t just morning newspapers. They were companions. They were my eyes and ears into what was going on around me. They were a daily soap opera. They were absolutely essential to going out into the world and living the rest of the day. When I didn’t read the daily newspaper, I felt naked and dumb. As though I missed something. HOWEVER, about the time I moved to Las Vegas, the daily news didn’t seem quite as urgent or important. Then, when the late extremist Sheldon Adelson bought the local paper, and the rival paper was absorbed into its clutches, the local Las Vegas newspaper became a propaganda sheet and a buriel ground. In recent years, all the great writers departed, and now the local paper is reduced to a cheerleader for the casino industry, a marketing gimmick for the well-connected, and a graveyard of actual breaking news and investigative journalism. I stopped reading the local paper about five years ago (though I do see it sometimes on my social media feeds).
Going Out to the Movies:
Remember the time when a movie theatre was packed, and we all shared a common experience? The jokes seemed funnier, because we laughed together. The moments of tenderness tugged at our hearts, because we teared up as one. The buzz from the moment the lights inside the theatre went dark until the closing credits when we shuffled up the aisles and heard what others around thought about the movie was infectious. Now, I can’t remember the last time any theatre was anywhere close to capacity. Or, even half full. This has changed how I view and experience movies, and frankly, I don’t quite enjoy them as much. I can’t even remember the last really great movie I saw (that was made recently). Now, movies are a button pressed on the remote. There’s no need to read any reviews, watch trailers, and go through the anticipation of Friday night at the movies. Obviously, there are positives to the easy accessibility of movies, but I also see this as a case of quantity versus quality. I used to see 30-40 movies inside the theatre a year, on average, which means over the past 50 years, I’ve probably been to the movies 1,500 times. In 2022, I went to the movies twice. In 2023, I haven’t been once.
60 Minutes:
I grew up with CBS’s 60 Minutes. 6 pm, every Sunday. Right after NFL football, 60 Minutes came on. Everyone I knew watched it. Mike Wallace. Ed Bradley. Morely Safer. The stories were often riveting. The interviews. The takedowns. The stings. It was the best drama on television, and it was real. Every week. But over time, 60 Minutes changed its approach. Inevitably, those legends of investigative reporting who once used to terrorize the bad guys (“there’s a 60 Minutes film crew waiting in your office” was the dreaded ‘I gottcha’ moment) died, and were replaced by reporters who just seemed well, less. Amateurs. Softballers. And, “60 Minutes” seemed to use more filler. More junk food. Less red meat. I began skipping some shows, then took it out of my DVR altogether because I simply found myself speeding through most of the stories when I got around to watching it. Then finally, last Sunday, 60 Minutes reduced themselves to the lowest possible wrung of journalism, giving a bullhorn to a crackpot politician from Georgia who has openly supported an insurrection and spread abominable lies. The premier news program, that was once the gold standard of being on top of current events, was already teetering on becoming irrelevant to the national dialogue and shifting dangerously into the abyss, cross the line. Presumably in an effort to gain ratings, which disastrously backfired, 60 Minutes was unfaithful. Unfaithful to us. Unfaithful to the greatness they once were.
Each of these things had been a lifetime habit. Something I engaged in for 50 years. Enthusiastically so. Now, they’re inconsequential memories of a bygone era. Oh, and don’t even get me started on sports, poker, and music.
Where have all the flowers gone?
____________
Note: Proving once again that writing is a journey….strangely enough, I intended to point out that today is the start of The Masters, which Ive enjoyed for decades and never miss. I was going to make that point — that The Masters retains some appeal despite the obvious problems with the sport, it’s exclusivity, and even appalling traditions. But as I wrote the post (and article at my site), I gradually got sidetracked from doing a positive “Christmas morning” retrospective on The Masters and thought more of the customary habits I used to savor, which are no longer as important.