How long will you (or do you) go before you face reality? Most people, it seems to me, go way down the path of their fantasy world or their “I’ll get to that tomorrow” attitude before they confront themselves and honestly recognize they’re not going to do something that they keep telling themselves they’re going to do.
That’s an observation on human behavior. And, it incorporates the shows I record on TV. Let me explain.
Given today’s technology, when something comes on television that I think might be worth watching at some point, I hit the “record” button. Whammo, got it saved for future viewing. Someday when boredom overwhelms me, I’ll click that show on, settle on the couch with a thick blanket and zonk out.
Until then, it sits in the “saved” column of shows. And sits and sits and sits. I tell myself I will watch the show at some point, then then a month has gone by, three months, six, even a year. Still, the show waits, lonely, waiting for that tap on the remote to open up and give me a spark of humor, intrigue, fear or athletic excellence.
As a University of Illinois graduate, I continue to root for the basketball team. Mostly I record the games so I can forward through the commercials, timeouts and video replays. I also occasionally see a special program about the team, and record that for future reference.
A case in point is the 1989 team, which went to the Final Four and lost to Michigan. That semi-final game to head to the national championship came on TV on the Big Ten Network probably 2-3 years ago. I recorded it. I watched part of the first half, then stopped because something else intervened. It continues to sit in my “saved” shows. I will probably never watch it. Do I delete it? No.
The question is, “Why not?” Some vague section of my brain says that I will pull it up one day and watch the rest of the game. This is where we get to: “How long before you face reality?”
With minor situations like this, that is easily reconciled by MAKING A VERY SIMPLE DECISION, you would think I’d delete the recording. Something holds me back. Some small crumb of desire that I want to see that game. It won’t let me go.
All of us face these reality choices in our daily lives in multiple ways. Not making that decision is why people hoard. They won’t face the reality that those baby clothes of your 37-year-old son will never be worn by anyone in your family again and should be donated to the Salvation Amy.
Another personal example: When television shows I like lose their steam, I continue to let the recording device do its thing until six, seven, eight, even more episodes pile up before recognizing that the series became a piece of crap months ago and I’ll never watch it again. Why does it take me so long to come to that conclusion?
There’s something in our brains that makes us want to hold onto things, hold onto beliefs. We’re not quite ready to say goodbye.
“The Equalizer” (the TV show, not the movies with Denzel Washington) started off extremely promising, then quickly devolved into formulaic oatmeal. I kept thinking it would improve. It didn’t. My recorder is still adding episodes I will never watch. Some day I’ll go into the controls and stop recording it. That’s when I’ll fully face reality.
How long will you (or do you) go before you face reality? Most people, it seems to me, go way down the path of their fantasy world or their “I’ll get to that tomorrow” attitude before they confront themselves and honestly recognize they’re not going to do something that they keep telling themselves they’re going to do.
That’s an observation on human behavior. And, it incorporates the shows I record on TV. Let me explain.
Given today’s technology, when something comes on television that I think might be worth watching at some point, I hit the “record” button. Whammo, got it saved for future viewing. Someday when boredom overwhelms me, I’ll click that show on, settle on the couch with a thick blanket and zonk out.
Until then, it sits in the “saved” column of shows. And sits and sits and sits. I tell myself I will watch the show at some point, then then a month has gone by, three months, six, even a year. Still, the show waits, lonely, waiting for that tap on the remote to open up and give me a spark of humor, intrigue, fear or athletic excellence.
As a University of Illinois graduate, I continue to root for the basketball team. Mostly I record the games so I can forward through the commercials, timeouts and video replays. I also occasionally see a special program about the team, and record that for future reference.
A case in point is the 1989 team, which went to the Final Four and lost to Michigan. That semi-final game to head to the national championship came on TV on the Big Ten Network probably 2-3 years ago. I recorded it. I watched part of the first half, then stopped because something else intervened. It continues to sit in my “saved” shows. I will probably never watch it. Do I delete it? No.
The question is, “Why not?” Some vague section of my brain says that I will pull it up one day and watch the rest of the game. This is where we get to: “How long before you face reality?”
With minor situations like this, that is easily reconciled by MAKING A VERY SIMPLE DECISION, you would think I’d delete the recording. Something holds me back. Some small crumb of desire that I want to see that game. It won’t let me go.
All of us face these reality choices in our daily lives in multiple ways. Not making that decision is why people hoard. They won’t face the reality that those baby clothes of your 37-year-old son will never be worn by anyone in your family again and should be donated to the Salvation Amy.
Another personal example: When television shows I like lose their steam, I continue to let the recording device do its thing until six, seven, eight, even more episodes pile up before recognizing that the series became a piece of crap months ago and I’ll never watch it again. Why does it take me so long to come to that conclusion?
There’s something in our brains that makes us want to hold onto things, hold onto beliefs. We’re not quite ready to say goodbye.
“The Equalizer” (the TV show, not the movies with Denzel Washington) started off extremely promising, then quickly devolved into formulaic oatmeal. I kept thinking it would improve. It didn’t. My recorder is still adding episodes I will never watch. Some day I’ll go into the controls and stop recording it. That’s when I’ll fully face reality.