Saturday night in Boise. 9pm to be exact. I’m on the sofa, in my favorite sweats, Northern Exposure on in the background and my computer in my lap.
I’d like to lament that I’ve come a long way from raucous Saturday nights that I used to have in my youth. But for as long as I can remember, my idea of a fun Saturday night has always been a cold evening, a beverage of choice at hand, whatever song is inspirational to me at the time playing in the background, pen and paper under my nose, and an itch to write and disappear from the world engulfing me.
I was never a big party goer, sure I am an extrovert and I thrive on the energy of others, but the writer in me is a strange dichotomy: a mix of an introvert who doesn’t need anyone and an ego-maniacal maniac who is desperate for acceptance, validation and celebration. But aren’t all writes a little multi -personality oriented? (to put it politely).
So here we are, Saturday night, me in the midst of my favorite pastime. The drink of choice is sparkling water, the music: Pandora is set to Chamber Music, and the world is slowly disappearing into a fog as I write.
My sister was sick this week and mainstreaming the TV show Northern Exposure. I started watching that show again too. I love that show. I remember watching the pilot and thinking, ‘Holy crap, I want to live that life!’ I wanted to be in a small town, with a crazy cast of characters; a philosophic DJ, insightful aboriginals, and where even the mundane of occurrences became important introspective moments. Oh, and living amid the Alaskan wilderness, hiking, snowshoeing, and owning a pet moose greatly appealed to me as well.
That idea itched at me from the moment I started watching Northern Exposure, and several years later, I found myself in the small town of Silverton Colorado. Elevation 9,318ft, population of about 500 in the winter, 1000-ish in the summer, and winter 9 months out of the year, and it’s own radio station complete with an ‘Oldies at 8’ show hosted by a quirky DJ from Mississippi.
In that small town, I lived the Northern Exposure experience. I found friendship and love. I had my heart broken. I learned about the good in people, and the bad in them. I found what the human experience is about. And most of all I found myself and I found inspiration.
Watching reruns of Northern Exposure has taken me back to that frist time I saw it. But what is great about that show, is that I am finding new wisdom in it now. The voice that propels the show forward, the narrator if you will, is the character Chris. played by John Corbett. He’s a DJ for the show ‘Chris in the morning on KBHR’.
Tonight, as I watch this particular episode, one of Chris’ monologues tickled my inspiration sensibilities. Here it is:
“(My brother) is out there in the motherland, hugging the curves down life’s
highways and Yours truly creeps along here at his petty pace, day to day, full
of sound and fury…Truth is folks, I’ve been dragging my psychic feet lately. Probably nothing more than your usual bio rhythmic peaks and valleys, but there’s no getting around the fact that we all need a pump. Something to make us jump up out of bed in the morning and greet the dawn with a big old cosmic howdy.”
Good lord, if that doesn’t give me a creative fever this Saturday night I don’t know what will.