It Took a Pandemic to Appreciate NCIS

By Claire Booth

I’m sure we’ve all had guilty viewing pleasures during the pandemic. Now that we’re really, honestly coming out of lockdown and getting back to some kind of normal, I thought I’d fess up to one of mine. Pre-Covid, I wouldn’t have been caught dead watching NCIS. There was so much other – better – stuff to watch with my limited time. And then time was suddenly unlimited and every entertainment option but TV was impossible.

I watched everything I’d been meaning to on Netflix and we were still under stay-at-home orders. I watched a few episodes and then it was just on. On in the background, on while making dinner, on when I didn’t have the brainpower for anything that required thought or engagement.

And that’s not a dig at the show. At all. There is a huge solace in comfort food – whether it’s eating chocolate cake, or rereading Agatha Christie, or watching Mark Harmon. Familiar, satisfying, easy.

NCIS checks all the boxes. It has a consistent rhythm and a fairly steady cast, so there are no developments that are too jarring or uneven. It has enough death of key characters to keep things interesting. You don’t have to pay close attention to pick up on the plots. It never takes itself too seriously (I’m talking to you – self-important, pseudo-philosophical Criminal Minds). And it’s endless. Eighteen seasons and counting. 

That rare longevity on broadcast TV has been fueled in large part, I think, by viewers old enough to remember watching Harmon as quarterback for the UCLA Bruins. But I don’t think it’s senior citizens who catapulted the show to the top of 2020’s most streamed list. It came in fourth, with more than 28 billion minutes streamed. I have to think that many of those minutes were watched by people like me. In search of a little comfort food.

Director Vance and Gibbs, probably saving the world or something.

 

Puzzling It Out

By Claire Booth

A while back I wrote about the power of rote work. I was building a brick planter in the yard and it became a meditative assignment that helped my mind to wander in directions that benefited my writing.

Lately (and by that I mean since mid-March, when—you know—stuff happened) I’ve needed something that will work twofold. First, just like before, I need a task that’s engaging enough to use part of my brain but not all. I’m still writing a book, and I still have plot points that need working out in that free space my mind get when doing the right level of task.

Second, though, I needed something to do. In the house. All the time. And since pacing the floors was starting to freak the dogs out, I turned to something I hadn’t done much in years. It’s something quite a few of you mentioned in response to my question with last year’s post.

What do you do to keep yourself occupied just enough to let your mind roam free? And use (in today’s Covid world) to keep from going crazy?

Puzzles. Lots of them. And I’m not the only one. Sales have gone through the roof since the pandemic started. I pulled out my old ones and got some new ones. An order I placed three months ago is set to arrive this week. I’m very excited. So are the dogs. They’re tired of the pacing.

Ordinary and Loving It

By Claire Booth

I went to a bookstore yesterday. Such an ordinary sentence. Once. Such an ordinary act. Before.

Now it was like a rock concert, a hug from a friend and dinner in a restaurant, all rolled into one. Hopefully we’ll get back to those three someday, too. For now, though, I’ll take my bookstore and be damn grateful for it.

California is slowly loosening its coronavirus restrictions, and retail businesses are now allowed to open their doors to limited numbers of people at a time. My happy place, Face in a Book bookstore in El Dorado Hills, Calif., decided on a maximum of four customers at a time. They’d been offering free local delivery for a while, which was great—but not a lot of browse-able fun. So yesterday, I was there, my masked nose pressed eagerly against the glass as I waited my turn to get in.

Once inside, two other customers and I kept our distance and soaked in everything on the shelves. Cookbooks, gardening, the new Mary Kubecka, a biography of Billy the Kid, the Hunger Games prequel, so much more. After restraining myself from actually touching every book in the store, I was rewarded by getting to talk to a friend. She works there and we were able to catch up. What would have pre-Covid been a nice chat became, now, a meaningful, wonderful conversation.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve been places since the pandemic started. I’ve gone to the grocery store and the hardware store. I’ve gone into work a few times when I couldn’t do an office task from home. But this … this was a place I wanted to be. Those other outings were getting on with living; this was getting on with life.