Enough

I got Time Indefinite through Netflix ages ago and just got around to watching it over Thanksgiving. The synopsis was as follows:

Director Ross McElwee documents the family drama that unspools when cultures collide on a personal level. In Time Indefinite, McElwee takes home his fiancée, a Jewish filmmaker who lives with him in Boston, and introduces her to his conservative family in South Carolina. Though genuinely happy for the couple, they're still taken aback by the news, especially as it comes at a time riddled with tragedy for the rest of the clan.

This seemed like it might be a good film to show to my social psych class. I was intrigued. As it turns out, the synopsis was completely incorrect. Cultures didn't collide. The fact that the fimmaker's fiancee was Jewish never came up. The family wasn't what I would call "conservative." "Conventional," maybe, but not "conservative." The news of the engagement didn't come at a time riddled with tragedy for the rest of the clan (the tragedy came later). And also, it took place in North Carolina, not South Carolina, and the last time I checked, those were different states.

Despite that, it was kind of interesting. It was mostly the filmmaker interviewing family and friends as he tried to come to terms with his father's death. This was fine, but I found myself tiring of the philosophical questions pretty quickly.

Not long after that, I read an article in Body and Soul (another fairly worthless magazine to which I subscribe) about "self-help safaris" in Kenya. These safaris (they have names like "Safaris for the Soul") combine game drives and interaction with local tribal groups with "intensive life-coaching sessions in which [participants] assess [their] past, create [their] vision for [their] future, and develop strategies to fulfill [their] goals." The cost was around $6000. I am vicariously embarrassed for these people. Is your totem the lioness or the warthog?

Maybe it's too much blog-reading. Generally, I appreciate it when people reflect on their lives, and I like to read and hear about real-life experiences (not to be confused with "reality" television), but excessive navel-gazing is making me roll my eyes more and more often these days. It might be due to a more general period of irritability I've been experiencing lately. I have dreams about annoying social interactions, and I'm exceptionally grumpy in the morning, as though I've been answering e-mail messages from students all night long.

And that's what I'd call "meta-reflection."

Sometimes it's good to know when to stop. Like with Christmas songs. There are a lot of Christmas songs, so please stop writing and recording new ones. That means you, Michael Bublé. That being said, Mr. Banality's cousins desperately need to add a few more cds to their Christmas collection because I've had it with being subjected to Mannheim Steamroller every year. On repeat. Over multiple days. Hey! You got your "Miami Vice" theme song in my Christmas carols! Ugh. No wonder people get depressed around the holidays. And I have learned to despise that Paul McCartney ear-worm, "A Wonderful Christmastime." And Mr. Banality wonders why I never want to stay more than three days.

Here's an extremely important question I've been pondering these days: WHERE IS THE VIVA?