Mad About Me

About five years ago I did something I will always regret and I'm afraid I may have done it again. On a day very much like today, it happened. I was surfing and came home to lie down because my back hurt. Countless fruitful hours of my life were thrown away by me because of what I did next. At the time I didn't think it was a big deal, but in hindsight I can clearly see it was a pivotal moment in my life. And, in truth, a tragedy of unrivaled proportions.

I am, of course, talking about the day I decided to watch episode one of the first season of Lost. At first I thought I could handle it. "This is good," I thought. There was the smoke monster thing and the polar bear really got me hooked. Little did I know then that those were just whimsical plot elements that really never went anywhere. At the time I was intrigued. I didn't know then that the writers were just making it all up as they went along. I thought there was a purpose to it all back then. I thought all people were good before Lost. But those writers took something from me. They took my dreams away and my belief in the goodness of man. What was magical quickly turned into a nonsensical haze of confusion and disappointment. Who did those writers think I was, a fool? Well, they were right. I watched every episode of Lost. From the polar bear, to the three-toed statue, to the time traveling. What a fool I was! And for what, I ask you? For years I tried to take back from ABC what they had stolen from me--about 80 hours of my life. But no lawyer would take my case. They all said, " You're crazy." Well maybe so. But I vowed that when Lost was over, I'd never let it happen again.

But--the other night I did something awful. I am so afraid that my very life will be ripped away from me again. I had been avoiding it for a very long, long time but last Sunday curiosity got the better of me. I am embarrassed to say that I watched all of season one of Mad Men in one night. The storyline just seemed believable and the early 60's motif really felt right to me. I was attracted to the aesthetic. But my past haunts me. At any moment I am afraid a lurking polar bear will leap out and devour Don Draper! Or that the secretaries will start time traveling or find a hatch near the copying machine. What if the Others steal Betty and the kids? I will be forced once again to endure years of pointless episodes in an aimless search for meaning. I guess it's like Don Draper says: "Our darkest fears lie in anticipation."