Yesterday I got to spend part of my night with a roomful of women. My daughter and her roommate, both home from college for the Christmas break, came over and settled in for their guilty pleasure of watching Jersey Shore. They had been robbed of the privilege over the past few weeks owing to final exam obligations, so it was time to make up for lost episodes as well as take in last night's final episode.
Talk about contrasts. The roomful of women on the tube were amazing, to say the least. With their relentless self-centered, selfish pursuit of a tacky, superficial, meaningless life, it was more than I could watch. And they appeared in such stark contrast to the two women on my side of the screen, curled up in their chairs, eating Chex Mix, and simply escaping from what had been a relentless academic pounding over the previous 3 months.
The one group of women and their associated friends were completely unappealing. They remind me far too much of people I get to see far too frequently: Looking for happiness like a ship sailing from New York to London-- without motor, sail, or rudder. Dead-end self-indulgence with a desperate belief that what they're doing is fun or somehow important. I find myself always with the same question: What will come of these lives?
The two women on my side of the screen leave me in far better spirits. In spite of the self-indulgent selfish behavior their studies require, I can hear the humming of their engines. In spite of the white caps and waves I know they have their hands on the rudders. In spite of their belief that what they're watching is fun, I know the recognize the difference between substance and illusion.
I don't know what will become of the lives of the two women on my side of the screen. But I'm not worried.
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