Are You Not Entertained?

“Are you not entertained?”

Russell Crowe as Maximus in Ridley Scott's Gladiator.

I am a huge fan of Ridley Scott. I was in middle school when I went to see his first big hit, Alien, in 1979. During the “spaghetti scene” as I like to call it - when the alien (also known as Xenomorph XX121) burst out of Thomas Kane's chest I screamed so long and loud that the friend I was there with had to pinch my arm to make me stop. Since then I have been equally impressed by several of Scott's other films. The original Gladiator is on my top-ten-favorite-films list where it will most likely remain. I also enjoyed Black Hawk Down, American Gangster, Thelma and Louise and of course the wonderful Blade Runner from 1982 and its equally dark and enthralling sequel Blade Runner 2049 from 2017. 

And now it is not only in the movie theaters where I can get this sort of fast paced, slick, and in fact quite excellent content. Now, as witnessed by the list of shows I “have to” watch based on my friends’ and colleagues’ reviews, I can watch this riveting level of entertainment anywhere, even from my phone. And the pull is great. Compulsive almost. Currently I am watching a PBS show based on the books of the same name (which I loved) called All Creatures Great and Small about a rural veterinarian who lives and works in the Yorkshire Dales in England in the late 1930s. I find myself waiting anxiously for darkness to fall so I can watch an episode. I'm watching this show in the same way that I watched Downton Abbey. Now that I choose not to drink and take drugs anymore I use these shows as a sort of a soothing agent at the end of a stressful day. They are to me what Xanax is for millions, an effective sedative. But thankfully this sort of “soothing” does not have the same negative effects as benzodiazepines...or does it?

The longer the list grows of shows I “have to” watch, the taller the stack of un-read books on my bedside table does…in direct proportion. “It's just so easy,” I think to myself as I settle down to watch another hour. “I’m too exhausted to read. I might get a headache and it’s hard to read with a headache. I deserve a little mindless entertainment.” Yes, all true, sometimes, but where will this end? Before this global and always available accessibility to excellent streaming content what did I do at the end of a long day? I spent time with my family or friends. I took long rambling evening walks. And I read. For hours on end. I used to be able to read for several hours straight. On a plane, in my bed, on a train, on a bench, in a park. It didn't matter. As long as I had a good book I was fine. Reading was, and had always been, my refuge. Now I find myself struggling to read for any length of time without taking breaks. I am currently re-training myself how to read for more than an hour and it’s shocking how hard that is. And it’s not my age. It is this habit I have developed lately of reading less and watching more. Of being, dare I say, mentally lazy.

Recently a friend from my A.A. meetings started drinking again. When I heard the sad news I called her to check in. She picked up right away which surprised me. She sounded upbeat, jovial, possibly even a little buzzed. “What's going on?” I asked her. She explained to me that she didn't ever really find what she was looking for in A.A. “What are you looking for?” I asked her, genuinely curious.

“Peace,” she said softly. “I just want some inner peace.”

“Well you will find that in A.A.,” I promised her. “I have. It took a long time and it was not without its trials and tribulations. But I did find it eventually.”

“I’m fine,” she assured me, this time a bit more aggressively. “As long as I have my booze and Netflix and Uber Eats I’m fine. That's all I need. But thanks for calling.” And then she hung up.

“Damn Netflix!” I thought as our call ended. “Why ya gotta be so good?” Because it is good. As are shows on Paramount, HBO, Amazon, Hulu and all the others. So good in fact that no one really ever needs to leave the house anymore. Why would they? It takes effort to be in the world. To get dressed and wash your hair. To go out and be amongst people. To make conversation and be a social being in a social world. As an addict my nature is to isolate. And now that there is so much excellent entertainment streaming directly into my pocket why would I even bother with other people? “You’d rather be alone,” my addict voice assures me. “People suck - Netflix does not,” it insists. But I know that’s not really true.

Right after the Covid lockdown, when things began to open up a bit, I was very nervous about heading back into the world of people. The Great British Baking Show had gotten me through the whole pandemic ordeal. It was my savior. After months of being shut in I sort of got used to it. I just wanted to stay home, in sweatpants, nibbling shortbread and watching unpretentious and friendly Brits making cookies and cakes. What could be better? 

But then from one day to the next we were supposed to just launch ourselves back into the real world. I had Covid a few times and I always took a photo of the positive result. I keep one of those photos in my notes to this day in case I need to get out of doing something I don't want to do. Terrible, right? To lie about having Covid to get out of a social obligation that I previously agreed to? Full disclosure: I have never used that image and most likely never will, but it shows to me that my nature is still, to this day, one of isolation.

But it is not in my best interest to isolate. And as I have often heard in the rooms of recovery, “it’s not drugs and alcohol that kill the addict, it’s isolation.”

I have to fight that nature. That idea that holed up alone in my house with Netflix, booze and some Uber Eats I will be “just fine” - because although that state of affairs sounds incredibly appealing to me, I know that it is a lie. My friend won’t be okay in the long run. She will either come back to the rooms of A.A. or she won’t, but her solution to her problems, Netflix and booze, is not a good one. 

I am very grateful I got sober before all these fabulously enticing shows and movies became so readily available to us all. In my early recovery the internet was still in its infancy and these now ubiquitous streaming services were still several years off. I could not stay home alone for fear of drinking and there was nothing of interest on television so I was sort of forced out of my apartment and into 12-step meetings.  

Weaning myself off of my Xanax-like stupor-inducing self-soothing shows and teaching myself to read again for extended periods of time is my goal for the summer. I hope I can do it.

And yes, Maximus. I am now entertained. Perhaps too much so.