No, You Bring it On

All day, I planned to watch a movie when I got home tonight.  The movie I planned to watch? Becoming Jane.  This is a “biographical portrait” of Jane Austen.  It’s generally based on historical fact. The movie I actually watched?  Bring it On.  This is a story about cheerleaders.  It’s based on audiences’ enjoyment of watching cheerleaders.

I’m really not even sure how that happened.  I don’t even have that movie!  I just glanced at it on Hulu for a moment, and then 90 minutes went by.

In college I formed a theory I dubbed The Conservation of Mental Abilities.  During the summer, or at the beginning of the semester when work was light, I found myself reading mostly non-fiction, with a mix of notably long or verbose novels (e.g., Lord of the Rings).  Then, as the semester progressed and the workload got heavier, my recreational reading grew simpler, favoring simpler novels and even magazines.

Once, near the end of a particularly grueling semester, I caught myself rereading Roald Dahl’s Matilda — a book I first read at the age of nine.  Ostensibly, I’d stumbled on the 1996 movie starring Mara Wilson and wanted to read the original story.  Realistically, my brain was exhausted, and a children’s book was all the supplemental reading it could manage.

It’s the Conservation of Mental Abilities.  I (i.e., we all) have a certain capacity to absorb and process information — malleable over a period of several years, but fixed over shorter periods.  After a light day, I crave knowledge and self-improvement.  After a long and difficult day, I watch Bring it On.

And I’m not ashamed to admit it.