williamallenpepper

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TIME: CRUNCHY AND OTHERWISE

Remember “Seinfeld”?

Yes you do. Mr. Pretending You Don’t Watch TV. Classic ’90’s sitcom. The show famously about nothing. “No hugging. No learning.” You loved it. We all did.

Well, I did learn one thing from “Seinfeld”. How to be master of your domain.

Whoops. Okay. Two things.

The other thing I learned is about the “feel” of time. There’s an episode where Newman and Kramer are talking about which days of the week they “feel”. One of them, Newman maybe, thinks Mondays “have a feel”. And “Fridays” have a feel. Kramer, on the other hand, feels Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Me, I feel Sundays and Thursdays. Sundays…well, Sundays suck. Sunday’s the day you have to come home from whatever weekend adventure you were having and get ready for the work week. Thursdays have the crunch of anticipation of another weekend to come. (In years past, it was also the good TV night and/or go to happy hour night).

But everyone knows days have a feel. Monday is the poster child for days with a feel. The “Garfield” comic strip has been running for thirty-odd years on lasagna and days with a feel. For me, though, time feels are more…localized than days of the week.

I don’t like to eat breakfast food at times other than breakfast. Feels weird.

Last Sunday was Oscar day. I had really wanted to see “Birdman” before the show, but hadn’t gotten around to it. However, I’d heard so many interviews and read so much good press that, while out shopping that afternoon, I bought the Blu-ray. I don’t remember the last time I bought a movie I hadn’t already seen. But I was so confident this one would be in my wheelhouse, I was positive I would love it and have to own it once I saw it, so I just skipped the “test view” part. I couldn’t wait to possess this awesome movie.

At least, I assume it’s awesome. The Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences spoiled it for me by giving “Birdman” the Oscar for best picture, among others, but I can’t confirm their wisdom – or lack thereof – because I haven’t yet watched the movie.

Well, I should say, as I write this, I haven’t watched it. By the time you read it, I probably will have. I haven’t watched it yet because it has been the right time.

Sunday afternoon, I could have come home, dodged the kids and secreted myself in a sunlit room for a couple hours to cram in the view before the awards show started, but that felt rushed and uncomfortable. Plus, I feel weird watching movies in the daylight. I’m okay with going to a theater when it’s light out as long as its dark when I leave. Movies are a nighttime activity.

So Sunday afternoon was out. Sunday night was taken up with the Oscars. Weekdays -even if I wanted to watch during the day – are out because of work. And week nights are complicated. I can watch movies on weeknights, but I prefer not to. Movies feel like a relaxing, I don’t have to work tomorrow, I can stay up later if I want, type of activity. It’s hard to relax weeknights even for movies after a long day of work and kids homework and bedtime and whatnot.

Most likely, then, I waited out the week and watched “Birdman” on Friday or Saturday night. Watched it with a relaxed mind, confident that the universe feels as it should.

So why does time “feel” certain ways?  It moves fast. It moves slow. It sits on your chest reeking of dread of things to come. Days fly by when you’re having fun and mock you when times are bad. Time isn’t a thing you can touch or see. It’s a unit of measurement. What gives time such power?

And most importantly, is “Grand Budapest Hotel” on sale?

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