Old [ohld] adjective:
far advanced in the years of one’s or its life: an old man; an old horse; an old tree. (www.dictionary.com)
I’m not exactly old. Not really. And my hairstylist is well-paid to ensure no rogue grays foil my plot to defy the aging process as long as possible. There are some things, though, that simply can’t be modified to seem younger than they are. One of those things? My absolute favorite television shows from childhood. There are a few I loved — the original Scooby Doo, whose feet sort of slid along as he walked because it was a real cartoon, not a computer generated show; Flipper, the show that made me want to be a marine biologist; He-Man, who made riding a tiger cool, had long hair, wore a loincloth and was my first step toward falling in love with Sam Bond. But of all of the, ahem, not-new shows that were around in my youth, there’s one that stands out as a clear favorite, one I still watch every chance I get.
I love this show. I wanted to be Ginger, who had kickass gowns and serious va-va-voom on a deserted island. I wanted to be Mary Ann because she was gorgeous and resourceful. I wanted to be the Professor because he was just too cool. I loved the Skipper’s temper. The Howells made me laugh at their ignorance and shallow attempts to remain socially elite. The island natives who were hysterical. And Gilligan? I loved Gilligan. I saw so much of myself in him–this kid trying to do all the right things and just bungling it regularly. He made me laugh out loud and cheer him on and sympathize, all at the same time. I never missed the show.
There was an innocence to the entertainment that I miss. Or maybe it’s my innocence I mourn. I’m not sure. Life was simpler then, and Gilligan’s Island personified for me what that meant — laughter, survival, friendship, camaraderie and, above all, hope. Pretty impressive impression to leave a kid with. High five, my lovely castaways.
I am admittedly either very good at avoiding writing or very bad at managing my time. I’m not sure which it is, but it’s sort of a personal epiphany to sit here and acknowledge all the things I do other than write when I sit in front of the computer. For example, when I received my reminder that this was my day to blog, I immediately ditched the manuscript and dove into writing here vs. there. Such a lack of willpower! I’m easily led astray these days, and here are a few of the things that occupy my attention:
Supernatural: I’m pretty much an urban fantasy diehard, and some of what I write is pretty graphic in the way of violence. Ironically, I have to watch half of this show through my fingers. But when the eyes are on the screen and the hands over the face, very little writing gets done. Yay, Netflix! NOT HAPPY. I blame Tibby Armstrong.
Merlin: I’m a total BBC-Wales addict thanks to this show. I don’t catch it on regular programming, but I bought the first season on a whim and became addicted within minutes. I absolutely love this show and will watch it over and over and over. So good!
Twitter: It’s nothing for me to fall into Twitter and emerge hours later wondering what happened. I become engrossed in the most ridiculous things, like #Sharknado. W. T. H. My brain automatically assigns hashtags to things now. It’s a real #problem.
Blogging: I love to blog. It’s like chatting, and I’m very proficient at chatting. Sometimes I’ll get a wild hair and have to go write immediately, sharing thoughts and ideas and best practices with my readers and fellow writers. Other times it’s publishing news. And yet others? It’s all about me getting a cat. Capital time suck.
Fotolia: This is my favorite royalty-free photo site. Sometimes, when I’m looking for inspiration for a book or a scene or a setting, I’ll spend an hour or three browsing photos and adding to my collection of MANhandler pics. Hey, somebody has to do it!
And the “more” I reference? That’s the internet in general. I get lost in it, browsing Ebay and CNN and Yahoo. It’s ridiculous! If I’d gain a little more focus and hammer on, I’d get a lot more done. I just don’t think life would be complete without my MANhandler days, though. They keep me sane. 🙂
What are your favorite online haunts? Share and give me other places to frequent. Pretty please?