Cultures, whether writ large or sifted down to the level of subculture, link us together. Like it or not, my fellow misanthropes. (Is that an oxymoron, fellow misanthropes? And, I’m really not. People are — fine.) One of linkage a culture offers is a shared day of celebration. A holiday, for example, like Christmas, or a national day of remembrance. Or, the Superbowl, a purely organic artifact of American culture, utterly secular and without government origin or sanction.
I’ll be driving MBW and the HA to a restaurant later this afternoon to watch the Superbowl with friends. In part this is to see friends. Also in part because I wouldn’t be able to watch the game at home. See, Meduseld gets crap TV reception. I purchased a 40-mile antenna. Installed downstairs it does nothing for the big screen. Upstairs, connected to the petite bedroom TV, it receives a few channels, one of which occasionally shows something worth viewing. But none of those channels is Fox (which is carrying the game this year.)
What we watch primarily comes courtesy of Netflix or Amazon Prime. I also have a Roku hooked up downstairs, providing numerous other options, when the wifi consents to filter down from the rarefied upstairs atmosphere. If the weather is bad (and this is the Pacific Northwest) Roku provides a pixilated picture, brief ten-second sections of video between two minute blocks of nothing, or simply nothing at all. So, the best bet is usually Netflix or Amazon Prime upstairs on the small screen or a computer screen.
What sci-fi/fantasy genre options do I watch, then? Well, MBW caught the Game of Thrones bug, so we’ll be picking up HBO again this summer to catch up on the nefarious exploits of Tyrion, et al. And while we’re paying the premium, we’ll check out Westworld, see if it holds up to the good reviews, despite the absence of Yul Brynner.