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As part of the effort to live without cable, using only TV-on-DVD and downloadable television, I picked up the first season of X-Files for about twenty bucks.

Wow, was that show ever Canadian!

I can’t decide whether the opening credits are very low budget (ie. Canadian) or just typical of the early 90’s. The post Se7en world has spoiled us with engrossing, AfterEffects-produced opening sequences. I remember I used to keep the TV on after one of my shows just to watch the opening for The Practice, even though I had no intention of watching the episode.

Glacing back to this early-90’s relic is great. Newer shows with high production values can successfully disguise Vancouver as anywhere else, but the early X-files episodes managed to do so with clever framing. However, one of the first things I’ve noticed about the series is that about half of the episodes throughout the first season take place (at least to some extent) in the woods.  Western United States, mid-west, New England, anywhere that there’s trees, that’s where Fox and Scully are likely to find their next case. I never noticed it before, but when you watch a half-dozen episodes over a few nights that kind of repetition becomes apparent.

There were also a surprising number of themes introduced in the first season that were spread out through the series.  Super Soldiers, Lone Gunmen, Smoking Man and even the device implanted in Scully in a later season are all introduced. Those last two are actually featured in the pilot episode.

I was a bandwagonner. Although I didn’t jump off when David Duchovny left the series (as many did) I didn’t get into the series until after a few seasons. One of my earlier memories at University of Waterloo was how empty Fed Hall (the on-campus club) was on the night of the X-Files season premiere (”is Fox really dead?” asked the previous season’s cliffhanger). No one in the club at 9:59pm, and a long lineup by 10:30. That’s about when I started watching it. 

So, for me at least, these episodes feel somewhat new if only in the fact that I have not seen many of them. On the other hand, I also feel nostolgia in watching an episode introduce a multi-season story arc whose conclusion I already know.

John made the point that the Fox Channel wouldn’t let a show like X-Files survive now.  It didn’t show a healthy Neilson Ratings until the third or fourth seasons. Had it been cancelled, it would have drastically changed television as we know it. X-Files was one of the landmark shows of the 90’s, and the storytelling style can be seen today in shows like Lost and Heroes.

On a related note, Simone and I watched the last episode of jPod last night. Whoever thought it was a good idea to move a TV show aimed at twenty-somethings to a Friday night should be dragged out into the street and shot. There’s no way a show aimed at that age group could survive…

…well, except X-Files.

Edit May 1, 2008: I wrote the above entry very quickly over a shortened lunchhour. After reading it again, I decided to fix some grammar, put in some context, and add a friggin’ point to some paragraphs where I completely forgot to do so.

Life is full of little changes, and I’ve always been able to handle them with time. My move to Toronto without a secured job was a bit of a big step, but I had the resources - friends and family - to handle it. Change helps keep life new and exciting.  My engagement to Simone is an excellent example of throwing caution and logic to the wind for the sake of something I’m confident is a good idea. Planning a wedding is, at the least, interesting. Lots to do, and lots of bashing heads with those you’re related to (or soon to be).

There are still parts of my life that feel stagnant, like I’ve peaked in what I can do and learn. That’s what I’d like to work on next.

In the meantime, I want to catch up on a few meandering thoughts I’ve had. Many of my lunches have been non-existent in the face of work. Others I’ve taken advantage of the fresh, spring weather and gone on walks to start reducing my pudge before I have to fit into a tux in September.

This weekend is Passover with Simone’s parents. Last month we had Easter. Before going out to see my family, I looked around for the nearest Anglican church to attend on Sunday morning. The one I went to last year was St. Chad’s, and I was planning to go again this year. However, when I Googled them to see when the services would be, I found an article about how it is one of the churches whose congregations are split over a whole host of issues, including gay marriage.

The church locked the doors to the congregation once, and I didn’t want to risk being locked out of a place of worship on Easter morning. It’s too bad. As a smaller church in a lower-income area, it was very open and friendly, and I would have liked to go back again.

The next closest Anglican church was Grace Church on the Hill in Forest Hill. Just driving up to this place, I could tell I wasn’t in Little Portugal anymore.  Very WASPy and huge homes with German cars in every driveway. Inside was certainly different from St. Chad’s as well.

Almost cathedral-like, it’s an elaborate church. Beautifully decorated and huge. Before the service started, I noticed that every man, every single man was wearing a black suit. I was worried that I was dressing down too much for an Easter service by wearing a white with tan and blue shirt, and brown cotton pants. As it turns out, I was one of the brightest-dressed in the congregation!  I estimated that about 1-in-10 were wearing a bright, Easter-like coloured outfit.

A non-specific comment about stuffy Anglicans entered my head in my Baptist mother’s voice.

When the service started, a very large choir entered. The procession circled a few times up and down the aisles as the first hymn was sung. I was new at this, but everyone else around me (aka. ‘the Regulars’) didn’t react as much as I did.  I quite enjoyed it and watched with interest.

Some of my favourite hymns are sung on Easter.  Lord of the Dance (not Michael Flatly) wasn’t played. That’s not a common one, especially for more traditional churches like this one so I wasn’t surprised. Christ the Lord Is Risen Today was also played, but to a tune I had never heard before.  It certainly wasn’t as celebratory as the version I’m used to, and sounded very “Anglican”, to use my mother’s voice again. There were some other hymns I recognized, but they were also played very down-tempo. Also, it may have been my imagination (or opinion), but it also didn’t seem like the congregation were singing with the enthusiasm or volume that would befit Easter morning.

The most enlightening moment happened during the sermon. Not so much spiritually enlightening as much as gaining insight to the congregation. The minister was discussing bullies, and proceeded to illustrate the example in a way that would appeal to the congregation.

“The bullies in the schoolyard. The bullies at the law firm. The bullies at the ad agency. The bullies on the hospital floor…”

So, clearly the majority of the congregation, as with the neighbourhood, is populated by lawyers, ad execs and doctors.  Not a surprise or anything, but it was the clearest difference yet between my Easter service this year and the one from last year.

The biggest concern I had was when the kids came back from Sunday school, many of them were (excuse the pun) holy horrors! Running around, yelling, and generally being disruptive. Nearly every parent responded with a finger-in-front-of-lips “shh”.  No “SHUSH!”, no yanking them out and giving them a lecture at the back of the church, not even a stern look.

If I or my brothers pulled even half of what these kids were getting away with, we’d be taken home and not allowed out of our rooms until school on Monday. There was no discipline for these kids, and when I told this story to both John and Paul (my brother and friend, respectively, not the guys mentioned during the sermon), as teachers they independently told me, “you see what we have to put up with, teaching these kids?”

Overall, it was a good service, and I’m glad I went. I never perceived even an unwelcome glance, but I did feel a little out of place with a five-digit income. Many young urban professional families at this Grace Church on the Hill, and it might be a nice place to go back to from time-to-time. But I don’t think I’ll make it a regular place of worship.

Not that I technically have one.