The later portion of the year 2004 was a strange time for myself. I had graduated from college, so that alone was a weird state of affairs. I was basically working and had nothing else going on in my life. Hollywood Video was pretty much fueling my energy (yet sucking it out at the same time), and I had the sleaziest boss who made the working environment extremely difficult. I was making $8 an hour and working only twenty hours a week, so the paychecks were small, and I couldn’t even claim the credit that I was living off of paycheck to paycheck because I was usually in debt and one whole paycheck would go to rent and then I would have $11 for the next two weeks.
My living arrangement was a bit surreal; the two-bedroom apartment I moved into seemed decent at first and then the community slowly revealed its true colors once I settled in. The four-plex I lived in was full of the stereotypical Santa Cruz locals who don’t do anything in this community besides party every night and complain about the college students. They developed a liking to come by my place because they wanted to talk to my housemate Christy due to the fact that she had a pair of breasts.
Of course, aside from the slacker neighbors, there was my next-door transgender neighbor. He/she alone will get a blog entry, I guarantee it.
On top of all the living and working arrangements, it was an election year. This was the most cutthroat I had seen politics. Kerry vs. Bush. I wished I had lived in a different region to get a more broadened look on the elections since this town pretty much advocated for Kerry. I wanted to see more people “on the other side of the aisle” so I could at least debate with them about something.
While all this was going on, something had spawned on television. It wasn’t a new reality show, or a spin-off of CSI or Law and Order. It was a mixed genre show called Lost. I was at my friend, Darren’s house and he tuned in at 9pm when the show was starting and gave me the lowdown about what this show was all about. When one describes the premise, the person listening can only be more curious. Darren went on about a plane crash, polar bears, some invisible monster, a man who was in a wheel chair and then could suddenly walk, and much much more. I started picking up on the show, finding reruns and tuning into the new episodes. I became addicted to a television show.
The first season ended; that summer the season was released on DVD and then the next fall, season 2 began. Like clockwork, I was there in front of the screen checking in. However, as the second season progressed, I found myself in a small state of frustration. The show just kept revealing more and more mysteries and not resolving the previous ones. It was starting to become a bit ridiculous and sloppy. I felt there was a lack of responsibility going on, as if the writers were just doing this to simply be weird and unpredictable. I imagined the writers in a room with a box full of random words written on small pieces of paper; they pull a few out and those words would be plot points for the next couple of episodes.
“Alright guys, we got South Dakota, pocket knife, Captain Marvel, and Wild Boar. Lets see what we can do with these for the next two episodes.”
By the time season two ended, there were many things left unexplained. That summer I declared I was not going to watch season three. I lied.
Season three started in October (I think), and at that point, the world of Lost had gotten bigger. There were all kinds of multimedia experiences one can take part in. There were books written by characters within the show that gave insight on many of the “mythos” of the program, there was a video game, and many websites that were based on organizations and characters.
Fall came and the show had started. Each Wednesday arrived and there I was, on the couch watching the show and not feeling any fulfillment once the show ended. All I know is that I got my fix for the week.
The show then decided to do something different; instead of wasting everyone’s time with reruns, they started the season with seven new episodes all in a row and then went on hiatus for two months (or maybe longer) and then start back up again with sixteen episodes (all new) back to back. So, now I am back in routine, at the front of my television screen watching each episode, wasting my time. No answers have been explained, new mysteries pop up, and my guaranteed let down never fails.
I talk to friends and colleagues who say they just rented the first season of Lost on DVD and are in full intrigue. I then find myself giving them a lecture about why it’s important not to watch Lost. I feel I am some motivational speaker about why one shouldn’t do drugs. I’ll give my past experience about doing drugs and what kind of life that led into, and how addiction is hard to overcome. Just substitute drugs with watching Lost.
My living arrangement was a bit surreal; the two-bedroom apartment I moved into seemed decent at first and then the community slowly revealed its true colors once I settled in. The four-plex I lived in was full of the stereotypical Santa Cruz locals who don’t do anything in this community besides party every night and complain about the college students. They developed a liking to come by my place because they wanted to talk to my housemate Christy due to the fact that she had a pair of breasts.
Of course, aside from the slacker neighbors, there was my next-door transgender neighbor. He/she alone will get a blog entry, I guarantee it.
On top of all the living and working arrangements, it was an election year. This was the most cutthroat I had seen politics. Kerry vs. Bush. I wished I had lived in a different region to get a more broadened look on the elections since this town pretty much advocated for Kerry. I wanted to see more people “on the other side of the aisle” so I could at least debate with them about something.
While all this was going on, something had spawned on television. It wasn’t a new reality show, or a spin-off of CSI or Law and Order. It was a mixed genre show called Lost. I was at my friend, Darren’s house and he tuned in at 9pm when the show was starting and gave me the lowdown about what this show was all about. When one describes the premise, the person listening can only be more curious. Darren went on about a plane crash, polar bears, some invisible monster, a man who was in a wheel chair and then could suddenly walk, and much much more. I started picking up on the show, finding reruns and tuning into the new episodes. I became addicted to a television show.
The first season ended; that summer the season was released on DVD and then the next fall, season 2 began. Like clockwork, I was there in front of the screen checking in. However, as the second season progressed, I found myself in a small state of frustration. The show just kept revealing more and more mysteries and not resolving the previous ones. It was starting to become a bit ridiculous and sloppy. I felt there was a lack of responsibility going on, as if the writers were just doing this to simply be weird and unpredictable. I imagined the writers in a room with a box full of random words written on small pieces of paper; they pull a few out and those words would be plot points for the next couple of episodes.
“Alright guys, we got South Dakota, pocket knife, Captain Marvel, and Wild Boar. Lets see what we can do with these for the next two episodes.”
By the time season two ended, there were many things left unexplained. That summer I declared I was not going to watch season three. I lied.
Season three started in October (I think), and at that point, the world of Lost had gotten bigger. There were all kinds of multimedia experiences one can take part in. There were books written by characters within the show that gave insight on many of the “mythos” of the program, there was a video game, and many websites that were based on organizations and characters.
Fall came and the show had started. Each Wednesday arrived and there I was, on the couch watching the show and not feeling any fulfillment once the show ended. All I know is that I got my fix for the week.
The show then decided to do something different; instead of wasting everyone’s time with reruns, they started the season with seven new episodes all in a row and then went on hiatus for two months (or maybe longer) and then start back up again with sixteen episodes (all new) back to back. So, now I am back in routine, at the front of my television screen watching each episode, wasting my time. No answers have been explained, new mysteries pop up, and my guaranteed let down never fails.
I talk to friends and colleagues who say they just rented the first season of Lost on DVD and are in full intrigue. I then find myself giving them a lecture about why it’s important not to watch Lost. I feel I am some motivational speaker about why one shouldn’t do drugs. I’ll give my past experience about doing drugs and what kind of life that led into, and how addiction is hard to overcome. Just substitute drugs with watching Lost.
1 comment:
P
I AM ONE OF THOSE FRIENDS WHO JUST GOT INTO FIRST SEASON ON DVD. I JUST WATCHED THE WHEEL CHAIR EPISODE, TOO. IT IS SAD TO SAY THAT ONE MUST EXPERIENCE THINGS FOR THEMSELVES, EVEN IF IT IS JUST TO BE LET DOWN.
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