The day had been long, as they all seem to be with young children.
We spent the morning hours at the baseball field, enduring watching E’s double-header baseball games in the bright summer morning. His team was blown out in the first game and lost a heartbreaker of a second game, giving up a two-run lead in the final inning. The team might have spent more physical energy than we did, but T and I definitely expended more emotional energy, hanging on every pitch and cheering for E and his teammates. Then we went straight from the ball field to a soccer birthday party for one of E’s friends – indoors, thank goodness – and finally arrived home sweaty, exhausted and ready to crash. After an early dinner, quick baths and bedtime stories, both children were fast asleep.
Noting that it was earlier in the evening than usual, T began the search for a movie to watch. After a half hour of vetoing each other’s suggestions, however, the familiar feeling of futility had begun to set in. We hadn’t come up with any other options at that point and I knew that T was in between series so I figured it was as good a time as any to make the suggestion.
“Do you have any interest in starting Game of Thrones?” I asked.
I grew up reading fantasy novels like the Wheel of Time, the Lord of the Rings and other similar series. I had never read the Game of Thrones books but I knew that the show was right up my alley once the television show took off. I also knew, though, that it was not T’s usual cup of tea. Even without knowing much about it, the facts that the show was set in a fictional land, had something to do with magic and included dragons meant that it would take some work to convince her. A few friends of ours joined in the effort, though, including one couple that had negotiated a deal among themselves: the husband agreed to watch both seasons of Marvelous Mrs. Maisel with his wife if she gave him one season of Game of Thrones. Their deal ended up being a true win-win; they were hooked on both series, despite the wife having similar hesitations about Thrones as T.
I was fully prepared for another rejection when I asked. We were both exhausted and GoT was the kind of show that demanded one’s full attention. It would have been perfectly reasonable for T to say that she didn’t have the drive to learn a slew of new characters’ names and get accustomed to a completely new universe at that time of the evening.
But she thought for a second after I asked and then said, “Okay, sure.”
“Really?” I said, my face lighting up.
“Yeah,” she said with a laugh. “Now put it on before I change my mind.”
I grabbed the remote immediately, found the listing and began the first episode.
During the first few minutes, T asked me if I was tweeting about finally being able to watch. I laughed and said no but I did text my coworker who had been pushing me to start the series so she had someone with whom she could process it. She watched the show when it was live but had told me that she did not know many other people who had. Her anticipatory giddiness about T and me experiencing the GoT phenomenon probably exceeded my own excitement about actually watching the show. I understood the feeling; it mirrored my emotions about introducing my son to Harry Potter.
We watched the first two episodes of the series that night, pausing every once in a while to clarify characters’ names and comments we had misheard. I was hooked from the start, though, as I said, I had expected to enjoy the show. More importantly, T admitted that she was intrigued enough to continue watching. We finished episode three a few nights later and were on our way.
I thought later about why I had been so interested in starting the show. It couldn’t just be that I liked the genre; if that were the case, I’d also push to see every new Marvel movie (the last one I saw was the first Iron Man) and to watch Cubs games more than once a month or so. And it certainly couldn’t be that I felt left out of conversations about popular culture; that might have been the case over the last few years but, since the series ended in May of this year, that argument no longer applied.
I decided that the key was in what the show represented for me. Even if the show is no longer on the air, GoT was a significant piece of American culture for the last few years. Its reach extended from that of “just a television show” to the realms of politics, sociology, women’s rights and familial relationships. It is a show that makes its viewers flex their analytical muscles, judge human behavior and consider the consequences of people’s actions. When so much of television is taken over by repetitive storylines, mediocre reality shows and politicians who treat their jobs like a reality show, I had been looking for something to push beyond the lowest common denominator of popular shows. I needed a show to occupy my attention, rather than just serve as background noise.
I needed a show that was going to make me think.
