LOST

No, not the way I feel, but my newest obsession. I know, you watched LOST live when it premiered eight years ago, and I remember catching parts of a few episodes, but it never quite stuck. Maybe it was the late (for me) time slot, maybe it was that then, as now, I hate shows interrupted by commercials. Maybe it was we had a crappy 19 inch Sony.

But this past summer at a yard-sale I found the entire first season DVD set, still wrapped in shiny cellophane. For a buck. So every night as a family, we watch it, never able to stop at just one episode, inhaling at least two every night.

I have pondered why I am drawn to the show. The plot twists and turns, filled with survivor-type action, as well as mysticism: monsters, the Others, the way compasses don't really point north. Fascinating characters, presented in a perfect blend of present-time action and flashbacks. These folks are FLAWED, and endearing because of their flaws. And eye candy galore, both scenery (shot in Hawaii) and, ahem, the actors themselves.

As a writer, these are all characteristics to emulate.

Last night, Boone Carlyle died. He is, er was, my favorite character. A callow, privileged youth, hobbled by his infatuation with his step-sister. I like him, he reminds me of Ben, one of my own callow young male characters. My daughter and I wept, at the loss of our favorite character, at the sacrifice the island demanded of him, of Locke's duplicity, at the unfairness of it all. Tonight, perhaps we will discover why the window  to the hatch found deep in the jungle began to glow, whether the Others will come out and play, find why those blasted numbers--4 8 15 16 23 48--are part of the hatch's structure, and what they mean.

Thank God huluplus has the remaining seasons!

Peace...