Throughout my 21 years of life, I have found some types of conversations that are my “least favorite.” Now, at the risk of me sounding like a colossal Scrooge, let me clarify. These least favorite conversations usually leave me feeling either one of two ways: aloof and detached (think rich British landlord, “oh, you peasant!”), or woefully unprepared to continue participating in any aforementioned uncomfortable conversation, culture or broader society for that matter.
Some examples:
“Hey, how much did you study for this test coming up? I started a couple weeks ago but I was wondering if anyone else started before me; I’m still confused about a couple of things.”
“Have you started looking at jobs for next summer yet? I know it’s only November, but it’s never too early to get started, right?”
Or, my unanimous, undisputed, first-ballot hall-of-fame least favorite question of all-time:
“Have you seen such and such movie (or TV show, or literally any piece of media)?”
I don’t know about you, but this one is particularly anxiety inducing for me. In the rare instance that I have seen said movie, or at least am somewhat familiar with it, I can navigate my way through the rest of the conversation without too much chagrin. If I haven’t seen said movie, I hit them with the greatest conversational cop-out and tactical retreat of all-time.
“No, but it’s on the list.”
Apologies to everyone I’ve ever used that on: there is no list.
In fact, I wasn’t even aware that people actually had lists until I got to college, when during a snow week my friends watched at least one movie a day for the whole week. They would consult their Letterboxd watchlist, pick a movie, watch it, then go leave a rating and review on that same Letterboxd account for the entire world to see. This idea was novel to me and also terrifying.
I grew up in a sports family. We didn’t watch too many movies together, and we almost never watched TV shows together. We watched sports. After dinner, when we all relaxed in the living room, we were watching Monday Night Football or the Thursday night Big Ten basketball triple-header instead of “Modern Family” or “Stranger Things.” Sure, we’d watch movies at Christmastime or during road trips (“Cars” was a favorite for my siblings and I), but it wasn’t a staple of my childhood experience. We didn’t have family movie night.
I don’t regret this at all, I just bring it up to make a point. I think there is a difference in being “sheltered” and “uncultured.” To be sheltered is almost non-consensual; a shield is put up around you, and you remain blissfully unaware of culture as a whole. To be uncultured, as I would say I was, is to make a willful choice to not participate in certain areas of said culture, not out of spite or ignorance, but out of preference.
This second, uncultured population develops a different cultural palate. For example, I can’t name a single character on “Modern Family,” but I could tell you every starting lineup for the Wisconsin Badgers back to 2014. And again, this was simply a matter of choice; I wasn’t anti-“Stranger Things,” I just flipped past it on my way towards Rutgers at Michigan State.
When I got to college, I experienced a new level of exposure to art and media. Obviously, the cultural melting pot at a university is way more diverse than it is in my home. Because of this and the new sense of control over my time, coupled with healthy amounts of peer pressure, I began to consume pieces of media that I never had before.
Freshman year, my roommate and I watched “Brooklyn 99,” a show my dad likes that I had seen a handful of episodes of in high school, and I enjoyed it. Last summer, I watched “The Office” for the first time. I also watched “Shrinking,” a show on Apple TV produced by the same people as my favorite show, “Ted Lasso.” I watched “The Interview,” a fever dream of a movie where fat Randall Park plays Kim Jong Un. I discovered my love for mid-2000’s punk rock.
Each of those pieces of media have pretty much run their cultural course, so to speak. Each were huge bodies of work that garnered national and (in the case of “The Interview” and “The Office,” for very different reasons — look it up) international attention. Yet I was experiencing them for the first time anywhere from five to 20 years after this. Missing out on the monocultural aspects of these things, which did leave me with just a little bit of FOMO, wasn’t ultimately something I could control. I wasn’t going to listen to My Chemical Romance at age three. However, it did present some interesting takeaways.
First, watching something after everyone else has already seen it is not all bad. While there is some downside and aforementioned FOMO, it’s really fun to have people ask you, “Oh have you gotten to such and such episode?”
Second, the expectations are higher for both the piece of media and you, a consumer. I know that “The Office” is great, which sometimes means it’s easier for me to be disappointed in certain episodes that don’t leave me completely satisfied. It’s also easier for me to be disappointed in myself, when I know that a certain piece of media is “great” and I don’t enjoy it as much as I think I should.
Third, and most importantly, I think to some degree streaming dilutes the current monocultural aspect of media. I wasn’t there, so I can’t be sure, but I think there was a certain amount of “where were you when” of network TV, which has gone by the wayside now that I can watch any episode of “The Office” whenever I want, on the same service as I watch Sunday Night Football or the English Premier League.
All in all, I have continued to broaden my cultural horizon as far as the media I consume is concerned. At some point I want to take the “Severance” trip, as well as watch some more of the classic “Dad” movies: “The Godfather,” “Back To The Future,” “Die Hard.” You get the picture.
What can I say? It looks like I have a list.
