Countless reality shows have aired in the last ten years, but none of them seem to have any relation to the reality that is my life. The program that best reflects how I live ran from 1989 to 1998 but its impact has been magnified many times because I see it so often in reruns.
In recent days I have been reminded of these specific Seinfeld shows:
Our vacation began with cramped seats on a cross country airplane flight. Who could endure such torture without remembering the episode showing Elaine flailing about in coach while Jerry luxuriated in first class?
The rental car we picked up when we landed overwhelmed us with the smell of cherry, which was obviously there to mask something much worse. After one day, we had to return it for an alternate car, all the while thinking of Jerry’s car with the body odor problem brought on by the restaurant valet.
My son is temporarily vacating the house in which he’s renting a room so the owner can set off a bug bomb to attack a pest problem. Remember the episode centered around the bug bomb in Jerry’s apartment, necessitated by fleas from Newman’s apartment?
During a supermarket run, I bypassed my regular parking spot, opting instead for a location more convenient to additional stores I needed to patronize. When I emerged from the market, heavy laden with groceries, I crisscrossed the lot four times in search of my vehicle. The parking garage episode, complete with Kramer toting around a carton containing a television set, is a classic.
And finally, consider the episode that started me on this line of thinking. Elaine is tasked to pen Mr. Peterman’s memoirs. She sadly discovers he has little of interest to offer, so they resort to buying stories from Kramer to add a little spice to the saga. Hilarity ensues. As I mull over material to write about in my own life, and find the subject matter somewhat mundane, I consider whether I need to add some excitement to my existence. Or maybe I just need to adjust my approach to the life I already have. Because in a way that’s the point of the whole Seinfeld series–a show about nothing. Finding humor–or drama or romance or adventure–in the minutia that is our lives.
So, with that in mind, let me tell you about my experience with cleaning the cat’s litter box this morning. Ha, ha…(to be continued)