You know you should

 Ramblings of a Retired Mind

You Know You Should

We all fall into this at one time or another. We stumble onto a new “must-watch” television series, fall in love with it, want more of it, and want everyone we know to watch it too. Inevitably, when speaking with relatives or close friends, the subject turns to our latest obsession — a movie, a series, something we simply can’t stop talking about.

I am 100% guilty of this. Over and over again.

If we are honest with ourselves, we realize that part of it is the desire to belong. We want to be part of the “in crowd.” No one wants to be the outlier, the person who doesn’t get the reference. So we proclaim to anyone within earshot, “You have to watch this!”

Of course, this behavior isn’t limited to movies or television. It extends to music — the new artist we’ve discovered or the obscure performer from forty years ago we have suddenly unearthed and now feel compelled to introduce to everyone we know. Books are another arena entirely. Trying to convince your book club to read the latest scare-you-half-to-death thriller when everyone else is looking for a light romantic novel can be an uphill battle.

Encouraging — or perhaps pushing — others to love what we love is practically the mantra of social media. The days of casually mentioning a good book at a cocktail party have been replaced by Facebook posts, Instagram stories, and TikTok videos. There they sit: the “like,” “love,” and “care” buttons, waiting for a click to validate our taste and broadcast our opinions to the world.

Again, I confess — I am guilty.

Politics operates much the same way. We plant our flag with one party or another and quietly (or not so quietly) expect our family and friends to join us. When they don’t, it often drives us further apart. I cannot tell you how many times I have felt tempted to block someone I went to school with simply because they are waving a different flag than mine.

In today’s climate, if you cannot persuade those close to you to come over to your side, it can feel like you lose twice. You fail to convince them, and you risk losing the connection you once shared. I will save the broader political commentary for another ramble and instead look inward at what I myself am guilty of.

Recently, I tried to extol the virtues of living in a small town in northwest Montana to someone who lives in California. How do you explain what you value to someone viewing life through a completely different lens?

“Everything is so close — five to eight minutes away!”
“Shopping?”
“Yes, shopping!”
“Trader Joe’s?”
“Well… no.”

At our age, do we really need to be fifteen minutes from a Trader Joe’s? I can manage going once or twice a year — even if it means a four-hour drive.

“But what about the fires in Montana?”
“No worse than California!”

There are only so many ways to “prove” your point before you realize that what feels perfect to you may not feel perfect to someone else.

Is it my fault that I did not understand the appeal of One Battle After Another? After battling through twenty minutes of it, I quietly headed for the door, convinced everyone else was giving me a thumbs-down for not “getting it.”

At some point, we all must go our own way. Even if we cannot pull someone to our side, we must learn to be content with our own preferences — our own likes and dislikes — even if we are the only ones who hold them.

And perhaps that is enough.