Many years ago I attended a writers seminar on characterization, and one of the speakers was a fireman. He told us about his training at the academy and life at the firehouse. He shared some of his experiences providing emergency care and fighting fires. But his comment that has really stuck with me over the years was, "When we arrive on scene, whatever the situation is, things should get better." That was his goal.

He was, of course, talking about controlling a threatening blaze and tending to the injured, but I thought, what a worthy intention. What if every one of us subscribed to it? What if when we arrived "on scene," whether it was a meeting at work, or dealing with a surly sales clerk, or simply walking through the door at the end of a long day, all of us looked around and asked, "How can I make this better?"

Case in point: A few years ago, I was standing in a very long line at the post office. The man in front of me was sighing and grumbling. Curious, I asked if he was in a hurry. He looked surprised at my question (or perhaps that I was even talking to him), but answered, "No, I just don't like wasting my time standing in long lines." Now, I was thinking to myself, this guy is probably unhappy no matter where he's standing, but I started up a conversion and by the time we got to the front of the line, I realized the time had passed pretty darned fast. And he didn't seem so grumpy any more.  (You're welcome, postal worker who had to wait on him.)

Confession--not quite on point: Sometimes when I'm standing in long lines, I fantasize about everyone chatting amicably or someone (not me, praise the Lord) breaking out in song to entertain us.  It just seems so weird that we're of the same species, standing in close proximity, and no one is saying a word to each other. (Hey, what can I say, fantasies can help pass the time, too.)

There are a million ways to make a situation better. Telling someone you like their nail polish--like someone told me today--or holding the door for the person behind you, or really listening to what someone has to say. So many people just want to be noticed. It's a big, loud, distracting world out there, and sometimes we forget that we, one on one, have the power to make it better. 

Has anyone else noticed the increasingly graphic nature of violence on TV? It seems the human body can't get no R-E-S-P-E-C-T anymore. If you look at classic movies, a gun is pointed, a shot is fired, a body falls. You'd rarely even see the bullet hole. Today, a gun is pointed, multiple shots are fired, the body twitching with each torn piece of flesh, the body falls, the aggressor approaches the body, the aggressor stomps the victim's head in, brain matter splatters, etc., etc.


And then there is the callous attitude toward killing. People are murdered for barely a reason. Are you standing in the path of the gunslinger? Dead. Do you not answer a question fast enough? Dead. Fingers shaking? Can't get that safe opened up fast enough? Dead. In years past, people weren't murdered just for hanging out. Now, if you're anywhere near the scene of the crime, you're going down.

Case in point, I loved the first season of Vikings, a well-written series airing on the History Channel. Good story, interesting characters, cool hairdos. For some reason, by the second season the writers, possibly in crisis over their story-telling abilities, decided to up the violence. One episode contained a stomach turning five-minute depiction of an execution by torture that involved exposing the spine, breaking the ribs and pulling them back to resemble bloody wings. Trust me, the writers could have used four and a half of those minutes on character development and furthering the plot rather than sicken their viewers.

Is the quality of storytelling served by making violence more graphic? If character development is done correctly, I don't think so.  If the show is well written, I will find myself connected and caring about the dead guy or the conflict that drove the murderer to do the deed; the fact that the guy is dead will be disturbing enough. Seeing his body ripped to shreds won't make me care any more.

Last question: Is this a generational thing? Are younger audiences as disturbed by the escalating graphic nature of violence as I am? Are today's writers a product of an adolescence filled with violent video games depicting all manner of mayhem and resulting in desensitization?

Seriously, this really is the last question: Am I just wimpy?