November 17: Where Phases, Born in the Wrong Time, Jack Benny

. . . "The History of every major Galactic Civilization tends to pass through three distinct and recognizable phases, those of Survival, Inquiry and Sophistication, otherwise known as the How, Why and Where phases . . ."

I am in the Where phase for the moment, as in "Where did this weekend go?"  I haven't accomplished half the things on my to-do lists for the last two days.  I didn't get a chance to . . .

1. Clean my house.
2. Work on my Christmas essay.
3. Work on my Christmas poem.
4. Grade student work.
5. Lesson plan.  

Per usual, I feel like a complete failure.

Here is what I did accomplish this weekend:

1. I put up my Christmas tree and decorations.
2. I played the pipe organ for Saturday evening Mass.
3. I sang in the choir this morning.
4. I went grocery shopping.
5. I spent three hours on my It's a Wonderful Life lecture notes for my film classes.
6. I posted my weekly announcements online for my film classes.
7. I uploaded my It's a Wonderful Life lecture notes.
8. I packed my lunch for work tomorrow.
9. I picked out my outfit for work tomorrow.

And now, I'm typing my daily blog post, which I was supposed to do this afternoon.

Seeing those lopsided lists in black-and-white on my laptop screen, I guess I did accomplish quite a bit these last 48 hours.  I don't understand why I always feel as though I am never ahead of the game.  I am starting a new work week, and, in my mind, I'm already behind.

We live in a very goal-oriented world.  The more accomplishments you can notch on your belt, the better of a person you are.  At least, that's the prevailing attitude in most work environments.  Having spent a good portion of my day studying It's a Wonderful Life and its historical contexts, I've come to realize that I may have been born in the wrong time.

I love the music of the 1940s--Bing Crosby, the Andrews Sisters, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Dean Martin.  I love the simplicity of the time--no cell phones or computers, no cable TV or Netflix, no Facebook.  Now, I know that there were a lot of things wrong with this time period for a lot of people.  It wasn't all sitting on the living room sofa, listening to Jack Benny on the radio.  Some groups of people didn't have it all that good.  Women.  African Americans.  Members of the LGBTQIA+ community.  Basically, anyone with a skin pigment other than white.  That's not what I'm being nostalgic for.  

I'm nostalgic for the days when people who wanted to stay in touch with one another sent handwritten letters.  For Christmas trees that were fire hazards.  For when "being social" meant going out for a burger with friends instead of scrolling through Tinder.  For when love wasn't disposable, when saying "I love you" was a promise and pledge, something that lasted longer than a Snapchat.

Maybe I'm being naive.  Every era has its issues.  I know that.  However, I wouldn't mind going back to 1946 for a little while.  Not forever.  Just long enough to calm my unquiet life down a little bit.  To soak in the unbridled hope for a future without world wars and stock market crashes.  To dance to Doris Day with my gal, because that's what girlfriends were back then.  Gals.

Does anyone have a time machine they're willing to loan Saint Marty?