An aging writer with very opinionated ideas and a healthy dose of sarcasm to boot.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Northern Exposure in a Southern Town
Lately, I've been missing the TV show, "Northern Exposure." For those of you not familiar with the show, it was the story of a transplanted New York doctor assigned to handle a remote, Alaskan town's health care. While the central character was the doctor, I found the strength of this show sat squarely in the laps of the supporting actors.
There was the wealthy, Texas bred entrepreneur who flexed his influential muscle when confronted, the elderly grocery store owner who was no-nonsense with a penchant for being blunt, yet was one of the softest and kindest characters of the show. There were many characters I liked and the two who I just mentioned were just a couple of examples.
I have to say the characters that I resonated the most with was Ed, the part Native American twenty-something and Chris, the Radio DJ. It occurs to me that there are a little of both of these characters within me. I loved watching Ed. He struggled with social situations as well as wisdom with regard to his heritage. He was later groomed to be a Shaman and it proved to be quite the challenge. He was sweet, kind and unassuming. A bumbling wunderkind if you will. Where a Shaman is supposed to lead with wisdom and grace, Ed fumbles with these concepts and ideas. He is oh so human and I love that about him. Those who he is supposed to counsel, instead counsel to him in an unorthodox manner. If Ed were real, he would be my best friend.
Then, there is Chris, the DJ. He is a long drink of water who sees the philosophical tint to most any situation. In a town where the usual is surviving, Chris gazes through the glass window of the radio station and pontificates on air, the wonders of life lessons that citizens of this town might be struggling to understand while they hide away any evidence of angst from neighbors in this tiny, rugged northern town. He is a poet, a thinker and voracious reader of matters that plague the heart and man's psyche. His existence is meager, yet his understanding is massive. Chris is the sort of friend you want to either share a bottle of Chianti and discuss the matters of the world or belly up to the nearest sports bar to throw back a few beers and revel in the simplicity of rooting for the home team.
As I sit in my home snowbound from getting out; I find myself needing a little Northern Exposure in my southern town.