Out of my Past
My friend DJ has been raving about a certain TV show recently. He's turned me on to some great movies, so when he asked if I wanted to borrow it I said sure. Just started watching it today. The title is
Trailer Park Boys
The synopsis of season one: "After 18 months in jail, Trailer Park Boys Julian...and Ricky...head back to Sunnyvale Trailer Park. They're aiming to get their lives together but wherever they go, trouble is not far behind."
This show was shot "reality TV" style. There are three main characters - stupid doper and "smart" doper are attempting to grow weed to sell to prison guards. The third character is the obligatory sitcom weirdo: lives in a shed, talks to cats, wears glasses like the bottom of coke bottles. Wackiness ensues, and I admit, I found the first episode amusing. But by the end of the third I was distinctly uncomfortable and couldn't stop thinking.... I know these guys.
It's been long enough now that I tend to forget, but as a child these were the people I grew up with. We never lived in a trailer park (although I have lived in several trailers, and yes, even a shed) but our friends did. My parents didn't grow drugs, or go to prison, or get violent, or have the cops called to our house... but they were pretty common things for us to experience third hand.
Now I was lucky. Even though she filled her life with these people my mother didn't walk their path. As well, my father's parents were solidly middle class and as much as they disliked my mother they adored me. I spent a significant portion of my childhood with them. But that sort of behavior was what I considered, if not exactly normal, not that strange either.
It's only now as I'm moving forward with my life, and taking a good look at my deeper motivations and programming, that I realize how strongly that shaped me. How a part of me never really left the trailer park. I am proud of how much I've grown out of that and am still growing. I know that in a few minutes or hours my newfound sense of assurance will kick in. I realize that that is just what happened in my past and I don't have to re-enact it ever again if I choose not to.
But in the meantime I can't help feeling sad. Not for myself exactly, but the people who live that way their whole lives and never, ever, understand that they don't have to. That out of all of the things about their lives that seem to hold them down, what they really need to be saved from is themselves.
Trailer Park Boys
The synopsis of season one: "After 18 months in jail, Trailer Park Boys Julian...and Ricky...head back to Sunnyvale Trailer Park. They're aiming to get their lives together but wherever they go, trouble is not far behind."
This show was shot "reality TV" style. There are three main characters - stupid doper and "smart" doper are attempting to grow weed to sell to prison guards. The third character is the obligatory sitcom weirdo: lives in a shed, talks to cats, wears glasses like the bottom of coke bottles. Wackiness ensues, and I admit, I found the first episode amusing. But by the end of the third I was distinctly uncomfortable and couldn't stop thinking.... I know these guys.
It's been long enough now that I tend to forget, but as a child these were the people I grew up with. We never lived in a trailer park (although I have lived in several trailers, and yes, even a shed) but our friends did. My parents didn't grow drugs, or go to prison, or get violent, or have the cops called to our house... but they were pretty common things for us to experience third hand.
Now I was lucky. Even though she filled her life with these people my mother didn't walk their path. As well, my father's parents were solidly middle class and as much as they disliked my mother they adored me. I spent a significant portion of my childhood with them. But that sort of behavior was what I considered, if not exactly normal, not that strange either.
It's only now as I'm moving forward with my life, and taking a good look at my deeper motivations and programming, that I realize how strongly that shaped me. How a part of me never really left the trailer park. I am proud of how much I've grown out of that and am still growing. I know that in a few minutes or hours my newfound sense of assurance will kick in. I realize that that is just what happened in my past and I don't have to re-enact it ever again if I choose not to.
But in the meantime I can't help feeling sad. Not for myself exactly, but the people who live that way their whole lives and never, ever, understand that they don't have to. That out of all of the things about their lives that seem to hold them down, what they really need to be saved from is themselves.
posted by Artemis at 5:32 PM
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