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Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Had a strange thought as I flipped the remote ...

across the teevee offerings last night while waiting for it to be late enough for Jon Stewart's Daily Show... .

Is there anyone else out there who believes that what we're showing on the tube is pathological? Can anyone truly believe the "Extreme Makeover" shows are real? That one can actually deal with all of the permits and zoning requirements in any given municipality -- plus line up the elements needed to pull off a brand new home in 8 days? Do we really believe that it's sensible for a troubled young family to allow the embarrassing exposure of the most intimate details of their lives to national audiences to pruriently mull over (Dr. Phil)? Do we really and truly savor the experience of seeing the humiliation of rejection offered up to us by "The Donald" week after week as young hopefuls gather around in his boardroom conniving for a place on the career ladder? Sitting in my room watching otherwise credible elder pundits shouting and interrupting one another in the worse show of adolescent rudeness on most of the panel news and opinion shows -- and upon which we are expected to make our political choices? Has anyone managed to sit through the awfulness of Tyra Banks's "Top Model" and seen what beautiful young women are subjected to in the quest for a career on the catwalk? How about the awful "Survivor" series, and worse yet, the young men and women who are chosen to prance before us in competitions to enter into the "holiest of contracts," -- marriage -- and we frown on gay marriages as an abomination? I cannot imagine that I had to click my remote before gagging -- to avoid seeing a young woman swallow a handfull of worms! It was hard enough to gradually get used to watching animals copulate on camera!

Am I the only person on the planet who finds no fascination in watching surgical procedures? Are we being led to believe that plastic surgery answers all our prayers and that inner beauty is no longer a consideration? Should we be concerned about the fact that South Korea has become the plastic surgery capital of the world -- with a great majority of its women opting for rounder eyes and more western noses? Or that lives are being lost by women in India through mercury poisoning from skin bleaching to better navigate a world dominated by western culture?

Am I wrong to want to wish all of this self-deception away?

Nothing makes me feel older than to watch couples sharing a bed as a part of the dating scene in almost any second act offering on most prime time dramas. Small wonder that the Miss American Pageant got tossed. It had become an anchronism in these days of Victoria's Secret models parading in angel wings and bikinis on the catwalk in a display of soft porn for the mainstream.

Oh god! I need to get back to work again. I'm fast-becoming a crotchety old woman who lacks the will to simply clip her fingernails to the quick and get about the business of growing the necessary callouses on my left hand ... . The state of my nails has never been a concern. I've had many more pedicures than manicures over the years, to feed my need for nurturance and decadence(?). Nothing makes one feel more pampered. The Wes Montgomery Songbook #2 lies unopened, awaiting my developing the will to pick it up and get to work. There's much to write songs about. Wonder if the muse can be re-awakened? Wonder if fear that that part of my psyche has atrophied and that I'm too frightened to face that possibility after such a long time?

Would a digging through old papers for some original song lyrics I may have forgotten help me to reconnect with my inner self? I'll try that later today. Running through old files often jars loose some "soul" that I've misplaced.

I'll let you know what happens ... .

Meanwhile, I'll distance myself from the damned remote and shut down cable until I regain some sense of balance. Have always believed firmly that each of us creates our own reality -- right now mine is in serious jeopardy! Obviously my depression today has to do with what I'm choosing to allow into myself -- a problem that my normally socially involved daily life never allowed.

Problem diagnosed. Now for some solutions ... .

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