Bring on That Wholesome Entertainment

I love dark, gritty, complex stories. There's just something about a complicated person being put in a situation where they must adapt by diving into the darkest parts of humanity that is riveting to me. Breaking Bad, Boardwalk Empire, Mad Men, The Sopranos... I could go on and on about the books, television shows, and movies I love that embrace this sort of storytelling.

With that being said, I also realize it's not exactly healthy.

For years now, I've talked about how we become what we consume. Folks online have no problem throwing around terms like "doomscrolling" when talking about social media users, meanwhile they spend their days listening to angry podcasts, toxic news broadcasts, true crime documentaries, or reading blogs where people just bitch nonstop. And I get it. Just like doomscrolling, consuming dark, negative opinions and stories can be riveting. They tap into our fears and give us little hits of dopamine, but make no mistake, it's just another version of doomscrolling. Maybe an algorithm isn't pushing it on you, but you're still making those same negative choices for yourself.

I realized about a decade ago just how much I was influenced by media. I could often track my moods by what I had been consuming, and thankfully, I've become self-aware enough to usually catch myself when things get too bad. If I notice my mood dipping, I tend to pull back from the horror films or complex political dramas. I avoid the news and seek out more calming alternatives.

It's funny, because this often puts me at odds with friends and others who feel the need to stay on top of whatever the latest trend happens to be. I mean, I guess their seasonal depression might absolutely wreck them, but God forbid they miss the latest season of "insert whatever is popular or overhyped."

But to each his own. It's up to every person to recognize their limits and decide how best to manage their own emotional well-being.

Despite feeling like I've become more self-aware, I do think the darkness can sometimes creep in a little more slowly. Maybe I don't notice as quickly as I'd like that what I've been watching is exhausting me. Or maybe it's more that what's going on in my life is already exhausting, and the last thing I need is another obligation or emotional roller coaster.

For example, between dealing with my wife's injuries, insurance companies, lawyers, and a job that can be demanding, the last thing I want to come home to is something I need to binge just to keep up with, or something overly miserable and filled with complicated drama. I don't want to watch the good guy lose once again or see justice go unserved. I see enough of that shit in real life.

And I think about six weeks ago, my brain finally said, "Enough is enough."

That's when I pretty much lost all interest in watching anything. The moment my Halloween watch list started feeling like a chore, I think my brain was telling me, "Stop doing this to yourself."

Since then, I've tried consuming various things, but I haven't been particularly successful. I've sampled new shows, revisited old favorites, and tried different books. I found myself enjoying some old pulp hero comics, but even that was fleeting. Nothing really hit home in the way I needed it to.

Until last night, and that was a bit of a fluke.

In my attempts to find something I actually want to read, I've made several purchases on my Kindle. One of those purchases was a collection of short stories by Louis L'Amour. Last night, as I lay down, I decided to read the first one, titled Riding for the Brand. It's the story of a young man who stumbles upon the remains of a stagecoach robbery and decides to assume the identity of one of the victims.

The story itself was nothing special. It took me maybe twenty or thirty minutes to read, and it was incredibly simple in nature. I won't spoil it, but you could tell pretty early on where things were heading and that the stakes were going to be relatively limited. Sure, a few people get shot, but there's no brutal murder, no grand conspiracy, and no enraging injustices. In fact, the good guy wins and is accepted, while the bad guy loses and is punished.

The story ends, and there's nothing more to say.

I finished Riding for the Brand, and I felt this huge wave of contentment wash over me. Nothing more was being asked of me. No subscription fees, no tie-in novels, no prequels. Our hero found a home, and well... it was wholesome.

Was it corny and maybe a little unrealistic? Sure. But when I put my Kindle down to go to sleep, I felt good about life. I felt relief. I had been whisked away for half an hour and left with a smile on my face.

Fuck... I can't even remember the last time that happened.

Then tonight, I stumbled into another situation with a surprisingly similar result.

My buddy Michael has been watching The Waltons for the last few years, and he was excited to see the complete series show up for $20 on FanFlix. I've never watched The Waltons, and while I was familiar with the show, I never had much interest in it.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking about what I wanted to do this weekend, but nothing sounded particularly appealing. Sure, The Odyssey was out on digital, but that's three friggin' hours long, and there are a couple of actors in the cast I cannot stand. So I figured, $20 for 177 hours of entertainment sounded like a pretty good deal, and I'd give The Waltons a shot.

After dinner, my wife hopped online to play with her friends, and I retreated to the bedroom to put on the first episode.

Just reading the description made me groan a bit. It sounded... well, bad. I immediately began regretting my purchase, but I figured I should at least give it a fair shot.

Fifty minutes later, I found myself completely consumed by the story of this Appalachian family taking in a young deaf girl who had been dropped on their doorstep. And once again, I noticed that same feeling of relief and contentment.

Just like the story from the night before, nothing else was being asked of me. There was nothing more I needed to consume or do. The story wrapped up nicely, and for an hour, I got to spend time with a nice, kind family dealing with relatively little drama.

Again, maybe it's not particularly realistic, but maybe television has become too realistic. Maybe we need this sort of fantasy in a world that so often feels hopeless and dark.

I'm reminded of a quote by C.S. Lewis:

Since it is so likely that (children) will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage. Otherwise you are making their destiny not brighter but darker.

I'm thinking C.S. Lewis might say that adults could use that reminder as well.

A little break from reality that reminds us that not everything is hopeless or lost. That goodness can still exist, even in a world gone mad. The same way the Waltons persevered through the Great Depression, we too can find little beacons of hope and light in the worst of times.

Maybe I'm just getting older. Or maybe I'm just tired of looking at actors who all have the same perfect dental implants. But I'm beginning to think it's time for me to seek out more of the media that used to offer folks a little hope, even when the world wasn't particularly great.

Stories that remind us of the good in people instead of constantly exploiting the worst of humanity. Stories that don't require hours of investment, emotional exhaustion, or a dozen episodes of misery before offering even a glimmer of hope.

I still love a good dark, complicated story, and I'm sure I always will. But right now, I think I've had my fill of darkness.

Maybe what I need is a little more of the light.