I don't like blah. Or dreary, or humdrum, or boring. And I like it even less when it is applied to those little things that make life worth living: bunnies, sunsets, your baby's first words...
Ah, yes: DH strikes again. When you live within the narrow realm of "not bad" to "pretty good", almost nothing can cause you to so much as bat an eye. Worse, DH has been surfing baby development websites since Small Fry was nary but a blastocyst, and as such, nothing - nothing at all - about our baby's miraculous progression from tiny limp lump of unhappiness to 30-pound, walking, talking, toddling hurricane surprises him.
"Small Fry started saying 'hat!' today, honey!"
"That's normal. Babies his age should be saying six to eight words by now."
Translation? Blah.
But this has always been the downfall of overexposure - Another bunny nibbling your lawn? Meh. Sunsets? Seen one, seen 'em all. Baby milestones? I've already read about all the usual stuff. When is this kid going to start playing Mozart? Now that's interesting.
So what role do various media play in blah-ing our lives? Video games desensitize us to violence; TV to tragedy; the 'net to... well, probably damn near everything else. Even a generation or two ago I'll bet the first boob a teenage boy got to see completely knocked him on his ass. He probably never forgot that miraculous First Boob. Now, one hundred million boobs magically appear for your viewing convenience with a quick Google search (that's fifty million results x 2, since they generally come in pairs and all). And that's with Moderate Safe Search on.
Entire generations of Blah. Damn internet.
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