Last night, Wifey and I closed all of the bedroom doors, told the dog to behave, packed up our mask and gaiter, and went out for dinner.
Note to the fascist authorities in New York and California who have closed down indoor and outdoor dining….
Suck it!
Having selected the appetizer combo plate for dinner because I thought eating a chicken fried steak would be just a little too heavy on my system that late in the day, we returned to the house to find that the dog had in fact behaved.
We fed her some scraps from the to-go boat (formerly known as the doggy bag) and I proceeded to the internet to take in various streaming services to aid in my daily ritual of shutting down.
Twelve hours later I’m a little rumbly in the tumbly, so I’m making a mental note about sampler platters.
I had an epiphany this morning in the middle of my second Immodiamoment as I flashed back to something I watched last night.
For those of you not in the know or the care, Disney+ launched its streaming service last year on the back of a new Star Wars series called The Mandalorian. It takes place five years after the events of Return Of The Jedi, and follows the zany hijinks of a bounty hunter.
Just for you uptight snowflakes out there, understand I’m offering no spoilers here that you shouldn’t already know by now.
Furthermore, if you are an uptight snowflake, what in tarnation are you doing here?
The season 2 finale was released yesterday, and it was better than that episode of Breaking Bad where Uncle Hector, the bell dinging bad guy, blowed up Gus Fring, his fried chicken wielding arch nemesis, who was also a bad guy.
Pollos Hermanos in deed.
As the episode wrapped up and I traded ALL CAPS laden text messages about it with my little brother (aka “my parents’ insurance policy”), it occurred to me that this series was in the process of saving Star Wars.
Now that I’ve had time to reflect on it, I’ve come to conclusion that the third trilogy was just a mess. The Force Awakens (episode 7) was basically a remake of A New Hope (episode 4), and served to give us some hope a decade after the prequel trilogy that a good Star Wars story could still be told. But then we got The Last Jedi (episode 8) and The Rise Of Skywalker (episode 9) and we were left with additional Immodiamoments.
Well the good story telling appears to have returned for the time being.
Granted, Disney has plans for additional projects, so know that fulfillment of hope is fleeting. Based on what they’ve put out so far with five movies, one series, and a follow up season to another series, they’re barely batting .500 right now.
It wasn’t that revelation or the one where Star Wars is being saved that forced my epiphany this morning. Instead, it was the fact that the last movie was released to the public at the end of 2019.
Seems like there was something else that emerged at the end of 2019 which caused all sorts of problems for us in 2020.
With that, I ask the following question.
What if all the chaos of 2020 wasn’t borne of a virus, but instead a universal rebuke of shitty story telling?
