So Many Kinds of Breaking

A number of autumns ago, I had a college professor who would lean back in his chair and imagine how delightful it would be to teach a course called, “Great Books I’ve Never Read.”  Right here and now, I have the nerve to write about, or at least use as a jumping off point, one television show I’ve never seen — ”Breaking Bad.”

Now if my husband and I could figure out the order of the channels and know what’s on when — we have a new cable company that’s taken over the innards of our TV – then maybe we actually would have watched the show that everybody’s talking about.  I’m happy to accept the general word that it’s dynamite (some critics say maybe the best television drama EVER) and just jump right to my main topic here:  the title of the thing and why I identify with it, strangely enough, at this particular transition time for me.

From what I understand about the substance of the show, it’s about a chemistry teacher who gets a diagnosis that starts him on a descent into evil, if we can agree that making meth is pretty bad.   Of course I’m way simplifying here, and remember I haven’t seen the show, but apparently the character – Walter White – does what he does ostensibly to take care of his family financially.  Or at least that’s the impression we get early on; I understand it was blown apart by what he acknowledged in the last episode.

The creator, Vince Gilligan, apparently was interested in making a protagonist who becomes an antagonist.  He must have known about television viewers like my father, someone who would come into the room where a show was in progress and ask, “Good guy or bad guy?”  Gilligan knew that TV watching becomes more interesting for all of us when we are forced to squirm about whom we’re rooting for, and why.  Tony Soprano, rest his soul, led the way into this territory, or at least brought many more of us there, transfixed by the either-way-ness of the drama.

So what about the choice of the word “breaking”?  The more I think about it, the more fascinating it becomes, just as a concept.   It has so many different meanings, partly because it’s all about change:  something new popping on the screen or crashing on the shore; something once intact, like a heart, absorbing hurt; an animal needing training or a human spirit crushed; a team just running down the court.  The change can be very good or equally bad or somewhere in the middle.  In the case of this wildly popular show, the one I’ve never watched, the implication is that the main character could have chosen to grab firm hold on the good and stay there, but he went barreling the other direction instead.   He paid, and we were glad he did.

While the name of the show doesn’t include any prepositions, here’s a look at how that part of speech can affect the breaking action:

• Breaking up
• Breaking down
• Breaking away
• Breaking through
• Breaking out
• Breaking in

Each of these, in turn, can have dual meanings:  “breaking out” can either be the dreaded fate of a teenager’s face or the phenomenon of a ballplayer getting out of a slump; “breaking down” might be the way to describe somebody who has a nervous collapse or it could be what scientists do with substances in their labs, advancing the frontiers of knowledge.

In my case, there’s a kind of double-ness to what I’m doing – or at least what I need to be doing — here in a new home.  And each of these terms themselves can go either way:  I’m both “breaking in” and “breaking away.”   The kind of “breaking in” that’s underway for me is not the nasty activity of burglars but rather the kind that enables us to get comfortable in an unfamiliar place.  We probably think of it most often in terms of how our feet get adjusted to a new pair of shoes — gradually.  My husband’s Redwing boots, for example, are well-worn after several years and therefore more beloved to him.

Anyone who has ever moved knows that the initial period is one of getting acquainted, identifying possible new friends, finding out where things are, and learning the lay of the land.  Discovering where the trails are for running, meeting the new neighbors, joining a team – these activities are pleasant enough.  On the other hand, working my way through the bureaucracy of getting a teaching certificate in a neighboring state from the previous one, where I already went through something similar – now that will take some patience.

The flip side of the “breaking in” is also the “breaking away.”  This could describe what cyclists do when pulling away from a pack of riders or how people might succeed in wrenching themselves free of destructive relationships.  In my case, it will be the necessary letting go of key features from my previous daily life—especially the friends I’ll see infrequently now.  It’s bound to be a gradual process, tinged with sadness, but the more it can be balanced with the “breaking in” side of the equation, the reaching for new comfort part, the better.

At least I hope I won’t be lying on the floor with all the cameras on me when it’s over.