The Joy of Rediscovering Forgotten Treasures
One of the more recent bouts of joy of rediscovery that I've experienced came from watching my nine-going-on-ten daughter as she witnessed the chocolate-factory episode of I Love Lucy. My own introduction to this gem of a show is forever enmeshed with a summer vacation spent at my aunt’s house, but I also recall it gracing weekday TV both in the morning and afternoon. If I found myself at home with a fever, wrapped in the embrace of daytime cold medicine and insomnia, Lucy and her antics were a reliable balm, a cozy blanket that never failed to lift my spirits.
When I discovered I Love Lucy was streaming, I decided to take a gamble and introduce my daughter to the infamous chocolate factory scene. My expectations were tempered by past attempts to share black-and-white classics with her, which had been met with a spectrum of responses from “this is boring” to “why didn’t they pay to film in color?” to “why do we watch old things?” Still, I went ahead, bracing for potential disinterest. Much to my delight, my gamble paid off.
First, she started questioning why the husbands were incapable of doing any housework, her little face scrunched up in genuine confusion. This led to a series of follow-up questions about why the wives didn’t have jobs and seemed perpetually “stuck” at home. “Why can’t they have jobs and do whatever they want?” she asked, “And, why do they smoke so much?,” her tone suggesting that the 1950s were some distant, barbaric era, which, in some respects, they were. In my heart, I was so proud of her for recognizing this imbalance. I don’t think I caught onto this disparity until much later in my life.
I took a deep breath and launched into an explanation about how times were different back then, how gender roles were rigidly defined and women were often expected to stay at home. I felt like I was explaining some ancient civilization of starch, nylons, red lipstick, martinis, and night clubs (“What are those?,” she asked). I reassured her that things have changed significantly and emphasized that she has the power to choose her own path, whether it involves wrangling chocolate on a conveyor belt or something a bit more modern. She understood, but felt that her grandmothers and for the women who had come before them had been dealt an unfair deal.
But, then came the real joy as that conveyor belt started and as it started to go faster and faster, she could hardly contain her laughter. There is something so special about seeing the episode again through fresh eyes. Lucy and Ethel are in a silly, desperate situation, trying their best not to fail. And while we’re all rooting for them not to fail, we’re laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of their situation.
Of course, Ricky and Fred are in over their heads, with housework as well, but it’s arguably a little less funny because they’re not trying as hard - somehow the stakes aren’t as high. I just hope they really do clean up all that rice and chicken in the kitchen. Lucy and Ethel deserve nothing less.
So, here’s to finding joy in re-discovering old things that you once loved and sharing them with others. There’s something irreplaceable about the joy and relief that washes over you when something you adored 10, 20, or even 30 years ago remains funny, relevant, and appropriate. I encourage you to keep those treasures in your back pocket, ready to be picked up, dusted off, and savored with just yourself or with others when you need a dose of joy.
