Anticipation

This morning, I was sitting at the airport with Lithus and I saw someone reading the Sunday paper. Specifically, the Sunday comics. The sight made me smile. Admittedly, I don't think I've had a newspaper subscription in well over ten years, but the realization that the colored Sunday comics still exist made me very happy. I remember waiting for them and the joy that came with stretching out on the floor with the Sunday comics (I always saved Peanuts for last).

Without sounding like someone's grandmother, I do wonder if Timber's generation, let alone the generations after, have anything they anticipate. Sunday comics, Saturday morning cartoons, Christmas and other television specials. You didn't have to get too old before realizing that the countdown to those things and that warm burn of anticipation was just as good (if not better) than the explosion of the event itself. Even the disappointment that came when you missed something just taught you that much more how valuable the event was.

Right now, I think we are in a place where there doesn't have to be much anticipation. Want to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas in June? No problem. Rent it or download it or plug in your dvd or blueray. Missed it on television? Trust me, no problem; it'll be on a dozen more times this season. Saturday morning cartoons are on all the time. Sunday comics can be found online any day.

Again, this isn't to be grumpy or curmudgeonly. This isn't a treatise on how much better life was when I was a youngin'. This really just is asking the question: I wonder if there's anything left to anticipate when everything we could want is available all the time. I hope there is. I hope I'm missing something. I hope Timber knows that warm burn and not just the explosion. And if this is the burp in the moment where there isn't anything, not really, then I hope Timber's generation is smart enough to change things up again. Because anticipation is worthwhile, too.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.