Big Honkin' Goals, Rabbit Ears, and Grieving

The library is such an emporium of riches. Despite the fact that I have no cable or satellite TV and get by with rabbit ears (fortunately, my long hair makes them less noticeable), by exhibiting a little patience, I can watch almost any HBO series I want. Disc by disc, I got to be friends with Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, & Miranda as I diligently watched each episode of Sex and the City.

About two years ago I caught my first glimpse of Six Feet Under. I got busy buying and selling a house and watching the last of SATC, so I pursued it no further for several months. Then I got serious (we're talking “serious” about TV) and started putting the DVDs for each season on reserve at the 'brary and spent well over a year absorbing 6FU's texture and depth. Each character is fully and tenderly developed with gaping flaws, admirable strengths, and quirky twists. The plots (er… NPI) are absorbing and take the imagination soaring, while exploring the far reaches of what it means to be human. The series unfolds like an amazing journey of interlinked miles, yet each episode stands squarely on its own.

Last night I watched the last episode of the series. When I picked it up at my local branch and was talking to one of the librarians, she said, “I envy you that you’re getting to see this for the first time.” When I returned the DVD this evening, I saw her and told her how powerfully it had affected me. After watching this incredible ending, I was so revved up, I had trouble sleeping. As she and I discussed the series and the finale, it was like our own little funeral for it. We almost wept with the passion we shared for this show and its characters and grieved at seeing the end, while celebrating the fabulosity of its existence. The wisdom of one scene came to mind when several women were gathered around the table after the death of a son. The mother asked, “How will I ever get over this?” And her friend said, “With time you remember the things that are important to you, and you slowly fall back in love with them.” I suggested to my newfound friend that perhaps we should apply this philosophy in moving on from our 6FU fetish.

Now that I have finished the long 6FU journey, I think I need to set another HBO endurance goal. I'm considering The Sopranos. Everyone needs a little vicarious violence in their lives.

Tackling these big library/viewing goals is so much more gratifying than running marathons. Marathons are not nearly as entertaining, and it's tough to fold laundry and clean the kitchen while training for them. Besides... they don’t require those magical trips to the library.