a weekly series and recently my husband and I have found a lot of titles at the library. Britsh shows like Foyle's War, Swedish programs like Hollander, and even sitcoms like Curb Your Enthusiasm. All good entertainment for the right mood. And at a great price. Free! What could I lose? If I didn't like it, no worries - just pop it back in the return bin. All good.Little did I know however, that I would become addicted to the plight of 48 survivors of flight Oceanic 815.
My journey started out reasonably enough. I rented the first disc with four episodes on it, thinking that would provide a few evenings' entertainment. My husband watched the first two with me and agreed that it looked interesting. I, however, went ahead one episode more, thinking that I would wait for him to catch up to me. Alas, he couldn't catch up to me because the next afternoon I watched the last episode of the disc. I never watch TV in the daytime, but I reasoned I was on a mission. Before the credits rolled I had reserved disc two. Then, down at the library, I noticed disc three was also available. And thus, I descended into television enslavement.
I became obsessed with the show. Fascinated by each character's back story and hooked by the twists and turns of each forty minute show, I calculated that I wasn't really watching as much as it seemed because the commercials were cut out. I figured that watching, say three, or even four, episodes was only really 160 minutes. It was like going to a movie, right? A really long movie. Every night. Day in and day out.
But, as I said, I was on a mission. I had to essentially watch 75 episodes back to back to be ready for the launch of the new season on February 2nd. I didn't make it, but gosh I tried.
Once, when I couldn't get an episode, I took the advice of a friend and saw it online. On February 16th, I am proud to say, I watched the show on TV! I had achieved what I set out to do.
Just the other night, my husband and I went out for dinner. We decided that it was time to leave the house and pay four times the retail price for a bottle of wine. We needed to break out of the routine. Leave the kid at home. Talk about something other than new gyprock and tiles for the bathroom, the fact that our cat doesn't seem fond of the new kitty litter we bought on sale, and that taxes were due.
When the waiter arrived, he asked if there was a special occasion. We told him the truth. That we were fighting against the advancing middle-aged inertia and boredom of the mid-40's. He listened politley and, after lending me a pair of restaurant glasses for people in denial like myself, he said, "Well, guess what me and my girlfriend did last nigfht?"
Imagine how my eyes lit up when he mentioned they had taped the last three episodes of Lost! Imagine my husband rolling his eyes. Imagine the fat tip we left.
I asked who our waiter's favourite character was. He liked Sayid. I like Sawyer and Kate and the Kwons and Hurley, but my all time fave is John Locke. The waiter said he thinks John is the devil. That is soooo obviously totally wrong. If anything, John is Jesus. The Messiah. He has faith. He died for the island. He was resurrected. Geez! (I even went so far as to recently google 'Locke' and 'Rouseau' - benefits of a classical education... they were both philosophers! - you see how deep I can go here?)
The other day I caught sight of a tag line for the series : Lost. The most addictively awesome television show of all time. The end is near.
Thank God. I can't take it anymore.
