I don’t understand it. But I accept it. I find myself saying this more and more lately. It’s like a mid-life mantra. It was in my head when I was digging into Twitch and trying to understand why so many people like watching other people play video games when simple watching someone else work a mouse makes me want to punch them.
The phrase repeats over and over as my son tells me about Yu-Gi-Oh cards—Minerva the Exalted Lightsworn, Des Colstgalph or Blu-Eyes the White Dragon. It’s there when anyone explains tax law. It’s accompanied by a shrug when I sign rental agreements. And I whisper it quietly to myself when they cast some sparkly vampire as my childhood hero. It’s grown to be the perfect cop out for middle-aged me. I don’t know why it works so well. But it does. And I’m okay with that.