Washing the Brain and Coming Clean With You

I had promised in my last post to talk about my addictions. First you need to accept that all addictions are by definition compulsions you cannot control based on the rewards that your brain receives from them. But, with the exception of drugs and certain weaknesses in personalities, there are varied degrees of addiction and sometimes the addiction is strong on one day and weak on another.  I will not dwell on to what extent all addictions can be bad.

Years ago, when I was young and surrounded by diapers and baby food and bills and long days at home, I started watching a few soap operas on television during baby nap times. As I look back I realize it was truly escapism because my life was boring and the over-the-top adventures of Audrey and Mike and Dr. Whats-his-name with their perfect hair and breasts and shoulders kept me distracted just long enough to be willing to face dinner.  Eventually soap operas seemed repetitive, and predictable, and boring, and as my life was no longer tied to the house, I said goodbye to Barbie and Ken and their trials and tribulations.

Recently as my life has now slowed and I spend more time in my house once again, my entertainment addiction has become British mysteries. I love trying to solve them alongside the expert and befuddled detective, or in other cases the unofficial detectives Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot. If I watched an episode three years ago I may re-watch it because I have forgotten most of the details and the brain reward is the same. Hubby is most generous in sitting through these with me but usually he cannot understand half of what they say with their chin wags over a half-pint at the local "Swan and Blind Beggar" pub.

About two years ago I began to fold laundry, plan dinners, prepare food or pay bills in front the TV in the late afternoons and I returned to my former addiction.  Low and behold I came across a soap opera, one of those that fed my elder brain nicely. If you research the title of the show a description reads "An English Priest is transferred to a small Irish village." The show is called "Ballykissangel" which is the fictional name of the village in the show, and it is, of course, in Ireland. In the first episodes a very young and naive priest struggles with an overbearing Parish priest and a bunch of quirky parishioners. Eventually sexual tension between the priest and the pub owner surfaces, and while a soap opera trick, it really is done nicely and without lots of prurient plot scenes. (My opinions about Celibacy among the people of the cloth is a whole other post!) This soap opera moves beyond this priest as new priests arrive to replace him and the yearly episodes involved each of the quirky characters in amusing and sad adventures and I loved each and every odd villager, and the Irish culture and scenery was so addictive.

Yes, I will FINALLY get to the reason for this post, and it is not to show that I know how to waste time watching TV AND do work OR write wordy posts about nothing.  The real name of the Irish village where this soap opera was filmed was Avoca in Ireland. One of the reasons, and probably the primary reason, I selected Hunters Hotel for our first night, was because it was about 10 miles from the small town of Avoca! This is what addictions do...enforce you to make arbitrary and illogical decisions for that brain reward.

I dragged everyone traveling with me to that little village as a bypass on our way to a national park. I immediately found the famous pub, and just up the hill the Catholic church and crossed the bridge where many a plot point had been revealed. We pulled into the nearby parking lot and I spent about two minutes taking quick pictures and giggling. No one with me understood a wit about my school girl reaction, except for my DIL who had visited the house in the movie "Goonies" just a few months ago and posted her giggling self in front of that same house.  My intellectual mind knows that this is 'scenery'...a 'location shoot' because I was a drama minor in college.  I understand the smoke and mirrors part very well.  I also know that the little town made money for some time on this series.  I am guessing the actual name of the village in the TV show is copyrighted and that is why the name of this gift shop in the photo below is a little odd.

And, of course there was that magnificent and powerful and important character that had no lines in the series...the church.

But I also understand the magic of a storyline and how it captures you and compels you and makes you reminisce and puts you there in the lives of the characters.  And when it all comes together at the right time, it is magnificent.

Now aren't you glad you followed me all the way to the end? ( It is too bad for those others that stopped reading and went to get the mail.)  Do I not seem more human?  No? OK.  Go ahead and see if the re-runs of this show are in your TV schedule on PBS or BBC .  I won't tell anyone.  Try to start from the beginning or you will not get the full soap opera effect or addiction.