Lembas Bread for the next year

We’re a society under siege, at the mercy of tykes & teens. Every where you turn, you’re confronted by yet another instance of someone bending over backwards to cater to children.

Popping a simple head-ache pill, taking a dose of flu medicine, finding a breakfast food without sugar or SpongeBob, enjoying a movie, watching television, reading a book… There’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about any of these activities. They’re the sort of boring little details that might eat into the 2 minutes of flashback provided to you on your deathbed (given a lifelong history of never thinking of the right thing at the right time, am convinced that my flashback will be almost exclusively composed of shots of me buying stamps, buying groceries, sitting at my desk at work, doing the dishes & other fascinating memories), but that’s about the only reason they might bother you. But every single one of these insiginificant actions has become a minor equivalent of climbing Mt. Everest. Let’s tackle them one at a time:
a) Pill-popping: This is what provoked the current rant, and hardly ever fails to get a raise out of me – ranging from a defeated sigh to a full blown tantrum (the extended version includes swearing, screaming, heavy breathing, foot stomping, vein popping, bottle throwing etc.). My idea of child-proofing a bottle consists of placing the damn thing on the most unreacheable shelf at home. But no. That would suck the excitement right out of it. We have “press down & turn”, “hold sides & turn”, “start turning clockwise but immediately afterwards turn anti-clockwise” & a whole range of other physically impossible actions. They might as well replace the instructions with stuff like “Pain killers are bad for you. Have you tried a glass of warm milk?”, or “Convert to Buddhism. The Dalai Lama swears by meditation” or “Are you sure you’re in pain? Maybe it’s all in your head (no pun intended).”
b) Drinking of Flu medicine: See above
c) Finding breakfast: Walk past breakfast aisle at any store to see a live illustration of this point
d) Watching movies: Dukes of Hazzard. No more need be said.
e) Watching television: I pay $15 a month so that I can watch “adult content”. And by the way, “adult content” is far less prurient than the sort of images that the term invokes. Am talking of romance and comedy, of loss and grief, of history… Do you get any of this on “network” television? Nope. If you want to watch Sex & the City (the uncut version – Kadavulae, what times we do live in! That we feel the need for an uncut version of cotton-candy concoctions like Sex & the City?) stand-up acts by George Carlin or Robin Williams (Williams as benevolent genie OK. Williams as retarded man who does not know if he’s fathered a son. Fine. Williams, the comic genius – hush! The children might hear!), Six Feet Under, Rome, Deadwood or even Entourage – get HBO.
f) Reading: OK, here I’ll own up to reading every Harry Potter book & wanting to read Inheritance (the sequel to Eragon). But just because I enjoy these things doesn’t make the phenomenon any less skewed. Why are millions upon millions of adults waiting in lines outside bookstores awaiting the release of what is essentially a children’s book? Or are we supposed to express our gratitude to Rowling for having gotten these people to read anything at all? Can’t folks even write decent pulp anymore, that grown ups have eschewed sex & violence for a 15 year old wizard & his wand?

Yes, this is years of embittered frustration talking. When I was a kid, the only kid stuff on TV consisted of a 1/2 hour cartoon program broadcast on Sunday mornings. I grew up eating Idlis & Dosas & driking milk. No vitamin-and-essential-nutrients-enriched-fun-cereal-with-a-signed-autograph-by-wierd-looking-sea-sponge(who-may-be-gay).
I watched the same movies my parents did. If there were “scenes”, the family would honor the moment by observing a few seconds of strained silence, and move on. I swore as a kid I wouldn’t say this, but at 27, what’s one more broken resolution? So here goes- those were the days.

If you’re still reading, you may be wondering, “So what’s with the Lembas Bread?” Patience is always awarded. This morning, I remembered one more reason I love this time of the year. Right now, you’re in the 2 week window when Hollywood releases movies for grown ups. The season for summer tenpoles is over. The unbelievably dispriting “holiday season” is yet to start. And the Oscars still count for something. This is the time when I note down movie names religiously from the movie sections of newspapers. This year movies like Capote and The History of Violence are the Lembas Bread I stock up for the next 12 months. I dare not watch them all at once. It’s 52 long weeks before the next two week gap, when Hollywood takes a breather from its obsession with 8-18 year olds.

Am quite proud of myself, seizing a happy ending from the jaws of misery. How Hollywood 🙂

I take heart. Today the average age is around 30 & everything’s tailored for 5-15 year olds. When the average age hits 50, perhaps life will adapt to 25-35 year olds. I don’t have long to wait. According to the UN, it’ll be a short 300 year wait.


2 comments so far

  1. the One on

    >>If there were “scenes”, the family would honor the moment by observing a few seconds of strained silence, and move on.

    Utterly howlarious!!

  2. DoZ on

    Thank you, One! Your adventures in cooking are equally funny 🙂

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