Friday, February 1, 2008

My review of LOST from last night?


Of all the season premieres of LOST, this one was the least season-premieriest. It amounted to all the old structural devices seen in previous episodes, plus a full hour of recapping to boot. This Recap Syndrome. Unfortunately for all dedicated viewers, LOST seems to have invented the art. What was advertised as a "two-hour season premiere" was actually one hour of recap and one hour of show, so you had time to do the dishes after dinner. And it's not just the writer's strike to blame, because they were doing this all along -so oh well. A friend called yesterday afternoon and jokingly asked what he should bring to the LOST party. "Low expectations," I quipped.

Anyway, they killed off somebody, but then they came back to life, and then people were seeing ghosts and not dying even though they had knives in their backs -the typical convenient plot devices that all LOST fans are used to. Did they get off the island? Not when there's three seasons left they don't. Will they ever get off the island? Evidently some do. Just who exactly, may, (or may not) be revealed in 3 years or so.


Why do I bother? I'm not even sure anymore. Routine, I guess. My six-year-old niece was over and I explained to her that the show had to be watched, that there were no other options, that I'd waited months and months for this. "What's it about?" She asked. I gave her the short version: "All these people survived a plane crash on this tropical island and they're trying to get home." She promptly went to sleep on the couch.

So, it's Friday. Very little was accomplished this week. I had such high hopes for the thing, too. Perhaps I need to alter my list of daily goals. "Raise daughter" is now at the top of the list. (How horrid! It was down at 8 or 9, before!) I used to think I was busy before I had a kid. I was wrong. I was never busy. I also used to think I worried a lot, but I'd never even began to worry until Mrs. Ditchman got pregnant. And I used to think I would be the best Dad ever, without any clue as to how hard the job would be. I used to think I knew what sacrifice was. I didn't.

I also used to think I was at least moderately happy and fulfilled in life.

Wasn't anywhere near it.