Jan 21, 2016 4 min read

I finally saw “The Martian” last weekend, and that was only because our other options for renting a movie on cable were so disappointing. It’s not that there aren’t good movies being made – it’s that none of them come to cable. And unless the movies actually come into my house at a reasonable price, I don’t see them.

When the Oscar nominations were announced last week, I watched with a sense of loss and cluelessness. With few exceptions, I hadn’t seen any of the films or performances. Some I’d never heard of. This is proof of one sad fact about life as we move through the middle years.

It all spins by so fast we can’t capture all of it any more.

There was a time, from my 20s through my early 40s, when nothing got past me. Current events, politics, local news, pop culture: I had a firm grasp on all of it. Although a bit of a social introvert, I never felt out of touch at parties. I may not have talked much, but I followed right along; afterward, I’d rest assured that 1) I already knew all of what others were talking about and 2) they were wrong about some of it.

Maybe this comes from years spent working as a journalist; we’re known for getting up to speed about almost anything, (while mastering nothing). News reporters are news junkies, so there you go.

But even after leaving that career in my mid-30s, I could still keep my hand on the pulse. Small children shifted my focus, but my head was still in the world outside. As the kids got older, they moved outside, too; it became more difficult, but I still had the sense I was driving the bus and not vice versa.

Now, at mid-50, someone else is in the driver’s seat. I am in a passenger seat about midway back. To extend the bus metaphor, I wish I could say I was in the back of the bus. That’s where all the cool kids sit.

This is not a mental decline. I’m smarter now (or at least wiser) than I’ve ever been. Maybe as we get older the world starts spinning faster around us. This might be related to our children growing up and moving into their own expanding worlds. It’s harder to count heads when the heads don’t need or want to be counted.

Too, technology has opened up the world, bringing new streams of information. There are 800-some channels on our cable. Who could possibly keep up?

I wonder if my grandparents felt this way when they were my age. It was the 1960s, a time almost as turbulent as 2016. Did they eventually let go and just watch it spin? I get that urge – every day.

Recently, I traded my newish Jeep Grand Cherokee for a smaller Subaru Forester. The Jeep just felt too large, like I wasn’t fully in control behind the wheel. My daughter, who’s on her driver permit, said it felt like the car was driving her. We’re both happier with the smaller car, because it feels like we’re in charge. I’d like the world to be a smaller model, so I can feel like I’m in control again. I’d like to be able to wrap my arms around all of it, like I used to.

“The Martian” was a pretty good flick, the story of an astronaut who is left behind on Mars, stranded there and forced to figure out how to survive. Think of “Castaway” with potatoes instead of coconuts.

I identified with the astronaut. We both have our heads down, trying to get by, while the rest of the universe just keeps swirling by, with or without us.

Beth Dolinar can be reached at cootiej@aol.com.