The Lasso of It All

Topics: pop culture, family, holidays

*Vague spoilers ahead for TV series that have ended*

I hate endings. Hate them. This is probably why I tend to watch TV series instead of movies and why I’ve never finished reading Harry Potter—I don’t want the story to end. Sure, there is a conclusion to [insert TV series], but in a very Schrödinger’s cat sort of way. Every day I am at risk of hearing or reading a spoiler, but without experiencing it, it stays a little ambiguous.

If I do make it to the end, like The Sopranos, I intentionally seek out the spoilers first. Yes, I am one of those monsters who needs to know how it ends ahead of time. Because, as I mentioned, I hate endings. 

Like almost all my core beliefs in life, the origins can be traced back to pop culture influences:

“Beginnings are usually scary, endings are usually sad, but it's what's in the middle that counts.”

• Screenwriters Steven Rogers and Forest Whitaker wrote that line for Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats (1998)

“The idea, you know, is that the sentimental person thinks things will last—the romantic person has a desperate confidence that they won’t.”

• F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise (1920)

“Here’s to the nights we felt alive

Here’s to the tears you knew you’d cry

Here’s to goodbye

Tomorrow’s gonna come too soon.”

• Eve 6, “Here’s to the Night” (2000)

Endings are sad. Romantics are destine for heartache. Tomorrow will come too soon.

This has only been reiterated (or I just want it to be) through current media. Game of Thrones left me feeling meh. I don’t know how Jim and Pam are doing. Barbie brings me to tears. And the Lions lost on Thanksgiving. Endings are the worst. 

Even promised feel-good favorites like Ted Lasso end on a…well, I don’t know. I haven’t watched it. I’ve heard mixed things and don’t want to risk another series hangover. 

Unfortunately, I don’t have a remote or app that can seamlessly save my life from reaching endings. I can’t avoid, ignore, or fast-forward through the unpleasant parts, and today I was prepared for a sad ending. For reasons both emotionally devastating and boringly pragmatic, it was the best choice. But it hurts. 

One of the things we said goodbye to was a TV cabinet. It’s my grandma’s. She couldn’t fit it where she lives, so we have been using it for the past few years as a cocktail bar. But…it doesn’t really fit at our house, either. It’s big, heavy, and not all that practical considering it was intended for a tube TV and VHS player, not Four Roses and a martini shaker. As much as we tried to make it work, today we surrendered that it doesn’t.

But I love this piece of furniture. I have wonderful memories of it being in the family room at my grandma’s. I remember playing with my cousins, watching Peter Pan, and sneaking too many peanut butter cups in the shadow of that TV stand. It’s a minor goodbye, all things considered, but still an emotional disappointment. I attach memories to things, and this thing holds many good, wholesome, family memories.

As we were cleaning it out this morning preparing to rehomed it, I found not one, but two green army men. 

Bizarre. 

We don’t have kids. We haven’t hosted our friends’ kids around our make-shift bar, and we don’t have any friends/family quirky enough to stealthily place army men around for funzies.

Whatever. I grabbed the army men and carried on with my day, trying not to wallow. 

While trying not to focus on the goodbye, I began ruminating on the army men. 

How did they get there?

Who brought them?

Why would someone put army men in the bar?

Are they Brett’s? 

Are they from a game—

Not a game, it’s a toy.

Instantly, I could smell the pot roast. I could feel the plush carpet under my elbows. I could hear Eric’s voice, Tyler’s laugh, and Jen’s giggle. 

My grandma had my uncle’s army men set. On Sundays we would go to the toy closet, get them out and play with them…in front of the TV stand. We would make forts and camps in, around, and on the cherry furniture. There would be elaborate stories and situations, heroes and enemies, victories and defeats. And then inevitably some annoying little cousin with a Barbie doll would tire of the war plotlines and try to insert something a little more fabulous into the equation. 

(It’s me, I’m the annoying cousin.)

Those army men are evidence of play. Of joy. Of fun. Of family dinners. Of Christmas afternoons. Of “MMMBop” music videos and Red Wings hockey games. Those army men are witnesses to my memories.

In Ted Lasso (the first few seasons, anyway) Ted gifts army men to people after significant moments of vulnerability and growth. The working internet theory for the meaning of the green men is similar to the sentiment of novelist Mario Puzo, “The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, lies in its loyalty to each other.” 

Ted is there for his friends, and their tangible reminder is army men. 

Over twenty years ago, Tyler, Eric, or Hunter put those army men in that spot. Then they were summoned upstairs, heading a call to come to the dinner table or help with the folding chairs. They quickly put the green men back in the rectangular box before scurrying to the dining room. Except they forgot two. A scout and a ranger were left behind on Ethan Allen Island. Forgotten. 

Until someone had a reason to clean out the TV stand—today is not an ending, it’s a recovery mission. 

Two days ago our family gathered around my aunt and uncle’s dining room table for Thanksgiving Eve supper. Nobody knows where the napkins are. The deer head is still above the fireplace. The dishes need to be washed before being dishwasher-washed. The humor is still dry. The laughter is still loud. The jokes are still funny. The folding chairs will still pinch your fingers. And all of it serves as living proof the best isn’t behind us, we’re still in the middle. We still have each other. We are the army men.

Hey guys, I got the men. All is well. Let’s carry on.

T’s Top Three Ted Lasso quotes:

• “It may not work out how you think it will or how you hope it does. But believe me, it will all work out.”

• “I’m cute as a button and I can rhyme my ass off, no wonder they want to destroy me.”

• “Boy I love meeting people’s moms. It’s like reading an instruction manual as to why they’re nuts.”