I’ve felt for some years as if something weird is going on. Thanksgiving hits, and all these dark, depressing, ochre-hued movie trailers start popping up on the tube (which is what brings me my football, and therefore must be turned on).
Does it mean you are living a permanent “senior moment,” that you see more and more pop-culture references you can’t follow at all?
I don’t know. I’m not sure I would have known more about these particular phenomena if I were, say, 20 years younger in the year 2013. In 1993, when I was 20 years younger, there wasn’t nearly so much marginalia in our passing culture. I’m not sure the issue is age, here, so much as the “informational” transformation that has made it possible for such a dense succession of pointless and unmemorable manifestations to parade before the average person’s consciousness in a given day.
But maybe I’m just getting old. I do want to note, with some pride, that I have finally gotten a slightly better clue than I once had about what the word “Kardashian” means. There was a long time there when, for all I knew, it could have been the name of one of those exotic, “French” diseases.