"i used to be with it"

shitposting about the simpsons like a true millennial

It’s the late 90's or early 00's. 

The house is full; all four of us kids crammed into the living room, ages ranging from 11 (me) to 18 (my eldest brother), positions ranging from on the floor (also me), to draped over couches and tucked into corners. My Dad is there too, and he's tired, because he starts work at 4am, a mechanic at the local golf course. His hands are always faintly blackened at the fingertips, and the scent of residual axle grease has permeated the layers of his skin until it's simply a natural part of his scent. 

Mum is in the kitchen, starting to prepare dinner - let's say it's one of the staples. The tuna spaghetti pie, a meal borne from the mere fact that Mum and Dad were a single income family with four kids, and two of them were fast growing, bottomless pits known as teenage boys. And so - tuna spaghetti pie, made from potato gems, layered with tinned spaghetti, tinned tuna and smothered in cheese. A delicacy, to be sure.

But the food isn't ready yet. She's still cooking. There's time to kill before dinner and it's being filled with our evening ritual. Flick to Channel 10, the fading notes of the news broadcast wrapping up, and then those opening credits, the blue sky, the white clouds, the yellow title.

I'm talking, of course, about The Simpsons.

If I had to pinpoint a show that defined my childhood, that is ingrained in the very rituals of my life, it's The Simpsons. Every weekday evening, Channel 10, until Mum went back to work when I was in high school and we managed to get Foxtel - then it was Fox8 The Simpsons marathons every weekend, episode after episode, usually watched by my sister and I, in pyjamas on the couch, crunching cereal and milk. A tentative peace between us, one of the few moments we were still, we were getting along, we were together. 

There was something about the four-fingered, dysfunctional family that appealed to each of us kids and our Dad, as vastly different as we all were. Our senses of humour ranged from slapstick comedy to dry sarcasm, and The Simpsons covered it all. 

To this day, it's a unifying language between us, quotes thrown into conversations easily and without missing a beat, confusing new spouses who aren't familiar with this particular vernacular. "You have a “Simpsons voice”," my partner told me, "all of you do. You can immediately tell when you guys are dropping in a quote."

My Mum often laments that she was cooking dinner and missed the bonding time over this show. But she also often laments how widely and voraciously we consumed it. Once, when I was in my mid-teens, the conversation turned to The Shining. I volunteered my familiarity with it to be met with surprise. "You've heard of The Shining?" She was suspicious.

"Yeah, it was on The Simpsons" I replied. And cue her eye roll.

"It was on The Simpsons" was a common refrain from me. "I learnt it from The Simpsons," was another, given the television show's predilection for weaving history and pop culture (usually American) into episodes. I picked up references and contextualised them. I absorbed like a sponge. I would joke "everything I learnt, I learnt from The Simpsons."

It's not entirely wrong.

The show isn't without its flaws. without problematic themes and episodes, and recent series leave a lot to be desired for us old millennials. But in those early days, watching with my family, I learnt a few things.

I learnt, "You are Lisa Simpson" - well, I learnt "I am Shaeden Berry”, and that meant I should be myself, even at times when it felt particularly hard and lonely.

I learnt that laughter can take the power away from scary things.

I learnt "money can be exchanged for goods and services" which more or less means that capitalism rules everything.

I learnt about quiet quitting from Homer Simpson's work ethic before the rest of the world cottoned on to the fact that you don't owe your job your entire life.

I learnt that shared experiences make a family, not just blood.

I learnt that sometimes you make sacrifices for the things you love, whether it be your newest child or your spouse.  

I learnt the quiet and consistent labour that mothers’ do each and every day; the physical and emotional burdens that they carry out that go underappreciated.

I learnt that you don’t have to follow in your parents’ footsteps, whether it be career-wise or religion.

I learnt that being smart is hard, but worth it.

I learnt that: purple is a fruit, because food rules are arbitrary and ridiculous. Siblings can be vastly different and still love each other deep down. Sleep when you can and don’t feel bad for taking time for yourself. Admit when you're wrong. A creative mentor can change your life. Buy the trampoline/guitar/motorbike/snowplow because trying new things is fun.

And that sometimes a ridiculous cartoon show can form a bridging point for four very different children. That it can lead to your brother announcing his wife’s pregnancy in a Simpsons meme messaged to your phone. That you can try to out-do each other every year with more and more obscure references on each other’s birthdays.

That it will become a comfort to fall back on for the four of you, the unifying factor, when life’s natural trajectories set you further adrift from one another.