We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of someone, who
for so long, was near and dear to my heart. We all knew him, and most of us
loved him- yes, I’m talking about the former “King of Pop Culture”- Young Scott
Bartley. (Wait a minute, you’re asking, aren’t YOU Scott Bartley??) Yes, dear
friends, I am. But I have gone through a startling metamorphosis- a
transformation that I thought would never take place. I went from the
freckled-faced young lad who immersed himself in everything pop culture-
movies, music, TV, books, and the like- to a soft, middle aged man who now just
has a mild, passing interest in all of those things which once consumed me.
Allow me to splain.
To
really delve into this issue completely, we have to look way back into my
childhood. During my formative years of grade school and junior high, I was a
chubby, nerdly young fellow, who spent a lot of time alone. My siblings were
all much older than me, so I had no built in playmates. I spent countless hours
reading books, comic books, watching TV (often unsupervised, which was ok until
we got HBO), and going to movies. I slowly started to realize that I had quite
a bit of knowledge when it came to the entertainment aspects of society, and I
would amaze and astound my other nerd friends flashing displays of said
knowledge. This interest in all things entertainment stayed with me all the way
through high school and into college. I remember as a high school student often
going to the movies by myself. This was not because I had to- by this time I
was wicked cool, with a much thinner body and an awesome perm- but because I
just liked to. I remember my niece Shannon telling me not to, because she just
thought it was so sad. But I loved it, and continued going.
Off I
went to college, which took me several years to complete, primarily because of
my hiatus when I moved to Southern California to be an actor (which is a whole
other story), but I finally finished in the early 90’s. I also met the love of
my life, Cindy, and we got married in 1994. But it was about this time that I
met the second love of my life- I discovered the periodical “Entertainment
Weekly”- and my life would never be the same. EW had it all, and on a weekly
basis- movies, TV, music, books, and even occasionally, theatre!! As Cindy and
I settled into our life together, she observed how when on Saturday morning,
when the new EW would arrive, I would immediately devour it from cover to
cover. She started referring to it as my “bible”- which is, of course, absurd,
because I didn’t WORSHIP it. Geez.
I
became a little obsessed, I’ll admit it. I would pride myself on knowledge of
obscure pop culture references or facts. There was a game we would play called
“Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon” where you would try to link two actors together
through films that they had appeared in with other actors. I found myself often
competing against my old college roomie, Shawn McEvoy, and I would try to stump
him with very obscure actors. Sometimes this worked, but Shawn was also strong
in the pop culture “force”, and he often made for a worthy opponent. Then in
the early 2000’s I finally got to put my useless knowledge to the test. There
was a new TV game show that was sweeping the nation called “Who Wants to be a
Millionaire”. It was hosted by TV personality Regis Philbin, and contestants
would answer general knowledge questions, many of them pop culture based, to
win money. The questions would get gradually more difficult as the prizes got
larger. I would watch often, and found myself knowing the answers to many of
the questions. I will confess- I didn’t think I could win a million dollars.
But I felt like I knew enough to win a nice chunk o’ change. Now I just had to
get on the show! There was a “hotline” that you would call and answer
questions, and if you got them a computer randomly selected who would be
invited on. I tried this for weeks, but to no avail. Then they made a stunning
announcement- they would be holding live auditions! For someone as smart and
immensely talented as myself this should be easy- right?!? The closest they
were holding auditions was in St.Louis, so I quickly called in and got myself a
slot. They took the first one thousand people at each location. When we arrived
there, we were given a written test, with many of the types of questions they
ask on the show. Then we all sat around while these tests were scored. They
finally came out to announce the results- those that passed the test would be
invited to stay for a live audition on camera, but there were fewer than 100
people that passed. And guess what? I passed! I was a little surprised, but
mostly just impressed with myself. The producers then took us remaining
geniuses in groups of four to a separate room, where they would interview us on
camera to see what kind of personalities we had. They told us before we went
in- “make us remember you”. So I did. It’s somewhat of a blur, but I’m pretty
sure I made a total ass of myself. I remember a variety of facial contortions,
a demonstration of my double-jointed fingers, and just a whole heapin’ bunch of
general obnoxiousness. I came out of there thinking that I either nailed it, or
was a colossal fool. I would have to wait a few months to find out which one it
was.
About
six weeks later I got the call- I was in! They were flying me and a guest out
to New York City for 3 days and 2 nights to appear on the show. I won’t go into
great detail, but I will tell you this- I did not win any money. You see, to
answer the money questions you had to get in to the “Hot Seat”, and to do this,
you had to win the “Fastest Finger” question first. I always came in second- one
time by less than a second. So I sat there watching a few other buffoons try to
win money, but they kept striking out. And I knew the answers!! But alas, the
show was over, and as we were all walking out, my fellow contestants were all
talking about what fun they had- but not me. I was furious. I had come so close
to actually using my vast pop culture knowledge to win money, but I was denied.
So other than the nice free trip to NYC, Cindy and I returned home empty
handed.
My
self-education in all things pop culture continued into the 2000’s. Then in the
middle of the decade, a new show popped up on VH1- “The World Series of Pop
Culture”. This was made for me! Contestants came in teams of 3, and they had to
answer questions over all aspects of pop culture. As I watched at home,
answering a majority of questions, I realized I should try to put a team
together and get on there. But my plans never took shape, and the show only
lasted two seasons. Denied again.
Flash
forward to the past few years. I have noticed that my interest had begun to
wane in all things pop culture. I still read Entertainment Weekly, but more and
more I realized that much of what was in there I had less interest in.
Especially in music- most of the artists I did not even know. What was happening
to me? Where was my edge going? And it finally hit me. You see, a few decades
back, after Sting had left The Police and was recording music on his own, I
remember complaining to my friend Alex Greenwood, who was a Police and Sting
superfan. “The new stuff is OK”, I complained, “but he’s gone soft. He’s lost
his edge”. Now I know. I’m there. I think it’s not really losing your edge,
it’s just simple maturation. As you get older, your tastes evolve, and what
once seemed oh-so-important, no longer is. That, my friends, is what I am going
through. I still love movies, but I’m a little more picky, and not as obsessed.
I still love Star Wars and Batman- some things you NEVER give up. But my
musical tastes have not moved forward- there’s not many newer artists that I
care to listen to. My once busy weekly TV viewing schedule has been reduced
dramatically, and I only watch a few shows now. And my comic books? I had
collected since I was in first grade, and had amassed almost 5,000 comics- and
I sold them 2 summers ago. Shocking.
At
first, when I recognized myself slowly slipping into a tepid pool of pop
culture mediocrity, I was a little disturbed- and sad. But I have slowly come
to accept the fact that there are some things I just don’t care about anymore-
which would be totally foreign and shocking to 30 year old Scott Bartley. And I
will confess- sometimes I feel a little left out. When most of my friends are
raving about the most recent episode of “Game of Thrones”, they notice the
somewhat blank, disinterested look I have on my face, and with dismay they ask-
“Don’t you watch it??” I feel like an outcast, a pariah- but doggone it, I just
don’t really have much desire to try it out. (Plus it’s on HBO, and for decades
I have steadfastly refused to pay extra to watch shows. My self-righteousness
will end next year when the new “Twin Peaks” comes on Showtime. I’m such a
hypocrite. Look away- please don’t stare.) But I do watch “The Walking Dead”-
so I feel that earns me back a smidgeon of street cred. So here I am-
middle-aged Scott Bartley, closing in on the magical age of “Fitty” (that’s how
we used to say it back in the hood). I
let my subscription to Entertainment Weekly end a few months ago. And I am no
longer a Pop-Culture addict. And that’s OK.
