Superheroes
are the polar opposite of a slice of life. Killing lifeless zombies, evil
vampires, extraterrestrial aliens, or bad witches is not a slice of most
people’s lives. At least, not people I know. Popular culture has a hard time
seeing that Atticus Finch in To Kill a
Mockingbird makes Gerry Lane in World
War Z look like a wimp. Our heroes live in a fantasy world because heroics
in real life are make-believe.
Hollywood is
especially prone to fantasy. Sherlock Holmes was a cerebral detective until
reincarnated by Robert Downey Jr. as a martial arts action hero. Hansel & Gretel kill witches with
weapons a gamester would love. The Lone Ranger wields guns and fists like a superhero
and can even leap tall buildings in a single bound. The trend is to go extreme,
the more extreme, the better.
Comedy has
become unworldly, as well. Real people are not that outrageous, uncouth, or ill
mannered. The problem with being edgy is that you have to continuously venture ever
closer to the precipice. Would On Golden Pond, As Good as it Gets, or When Harry Met Sally get green lighted today. Probably only if they added some never-before-seen shocks. (Okay, shoving Simon’s dog Verdel down the garbage chute
probably qualifies.)
Am I arguing
for a return to slice of life stories? Not really. I like action/adventure, clever dialogue
comedies, and especially mystery/suspense stories. And I write Westerns. None of
which fit in the slice of life genre. I would prefer, however, more variety in contemporary
fiction and film. Fiction is not as big of a problem because good books stay
around and there are thousands still waiting for me. Movies are different. When
I look at a theater listing and six out of eight films are about men and women
that can deflect a bullet with a sword, slice a monster’s head off while
leaping six feet off the floor, or throw a paralyzing blow from a piece of
stick, I usually end up staying home to watch yet another permutation of CSI.
A few days ago, I posted that I was going to Pacific Beach to get in a little surfing. The first day was blown out (windy), but I did have a great day yesterday. Sunny, with glassy conditions and 2-3 foot waves. Small, but about the right size for this old man.
The water was cold, but my wetsuit kept me toasty. The problem was getting the suit and booties on and off. What a pain. The new suits make Plastic Man look inelastic. You try to pull them off and they just stretch, and heaven help you if you get them doubled-up. In fact, I had a hernia operation a few years ago I blamed on hurrying to get my suit off.
I long for the good ol' days of my youth when we just threw on a bathing suit and shivered while waiting for a wave.
I'm not serious. I hate being cold. New wetsuit technology is a godsend, I'll just have to remain patient and take my gear off one step at a time. But I do like summers when a bathing suit and chafe guard is all you need.
By the way, I was the body-double for the O'Neil Wetsuit above. I also caught a double-overhead yesterday. (I write fiction, which means I lie for a living.)
