Next, Next, Next, Next

Check on your friends who can’t seem to unplug.

Not me though. I’m already on page 16 of The Carrying by Ada Limón.

Let’s get into it:

[glass]

i’m not religious like i used to be
but when he whispered to me
when no one was looking
god,
it made me lose it.
he said Change (In the House of Flies)
was his favorite fucking music.
in secret
i prayed that it might be a promise
to watch him press play
from his side of the bed
but if i’m being honest
i never could
instead
that night, alone
i fell asleep
listening to Deftones on repeat.

The Personification of TV Commercials

Like an old friend from high school, I had almost forgotten how much space commercials occupied throughout the entirety of my adolescence. And while they always interrupted, they were never as much of an imposition as they were a habit - built in. A casualty of capitalism. The pocket of space wedged between Legends of the Hidden Temple and Wonder Years and whatever shows dads demand to watch after a long day at work.

But commercials played a critical role in keeping us human.

I can only say this with confidence now that I’ve become aware of their absence. An absence painted as holy. You can pay extra for that, you know. No ads. No interruptions. Praise be, to the uninterrupted continuity.

Imagine “waiting” for literally anything.

When time is the preferred currency, it necessitates we live and breathe in immediacy. But what do we lose in the exchange?

Answer: I’m not sure right now.
Answer: I haven’t seen you in hours.
Answer: We can talk later, maybe after this. Surely not during. I have to see what happens next.

Praise be, to binge-worthy availability.

Dad’s two screens. Kid’s big screen. Mom’s small screen. Always powered on. Now it’s ‘skip’ or ‘next’ or algorithm on repeat. Something on deck already. All ready.

Always ready.

But to be bombarded with messages of jingles and medication side effects is to be given an escape from the inescapable.

Commercials used to pull us out of it. Remember?

They signaled that it was finally time to blink. Time to debate lizards vs geckos and ask questions like ‘where’s the beef?’ Time for dad to set down the remote. Time for the family to make a quick snack.

It was in those 90 second intervals that I got my family back.

Without commercials, where are the breaks? They used to pull us out of it, remember?

Remember.
You can blink.

until next time. -cd