What's old is new for me

The man can­not truly live unless he shares in the actions and the pas­sions of his times.
—Oliver Wen­dell Holmes

I love music. All kinds, per­haps except for Coun­try — and even that, there's a small por­tion I can tol­er­ate. I love, and have a soft spot in my heart for film — it's an expe­ri­ence like no other as far as I'm con­cerned. It just is. I con­sider myself a stu­dent of the media, some­thing of a pop-culture junkie. But that's only true to a cer­tain extent.

Trends in pop cul­ture pass me by more often than they don't, espe­cially over the past few years. Last year, when every­one around me was quot­ing some­thing annoy­ing from Borat, I didn't know what they were talk­ing about. Still don't. Many of my friends have told me how much I have to see "Heroes." I've been told to watch "The Wire" as well. While here a few days ago, Jiggy rec­om­mended a new album to me. I've heard the phrase "voted off the island" a mil­lion times, but I can't say I've ever seen an episode of "Sur­vivor." Or "Amer­i­can Idol." Or any num­ber of those point­less "real­ity" series.

My lack of expo­sure is not for a lack of try­ing, mind you. I'm always watch­ing or lis­ten­ing to or read­ing some­thing. Most of the time, it's some­thing new. The prob­lem is that there's always some­thing new. I sup­pose it's a good prob­lem to have, but it can still feel over­whelm­ing. Sev­eral months back, I can­celed my Net­flix sub­scrip­tion for this very rea­son. The back­log just got too large to man­age, and I needed a break.

And yet I still con­sume. I still lis­ten and watch and down­load and visit, and I love it. There's some­thing uniquely grat­i­fy­ing about expe­ri­enc­ing art, espe­cially when it's not your own — because at the end of the day, you fig­ure that the artist who cre­ated what you're expe­ri­enc­ing put their work out there for it to be seen, heard, what­ever. It's a nice way to pay tribute.

And that's why no mat­ter how behind I am, I'm always look­ing for some­thing new. The back­log is per­sis­tent, but I think I rather like it that way.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have art to experience.