I know what I’ll be doing this summer. I’ll be watching 2 1/2 seasons worth of Lost episodes. I am completely hooked on this show. I only started watching it in January, so I’m not hooked like the bazillions of people who flooded ABC.com’s message boards with updated plot theories after Wednesday night’s Season 3 finale…just hooked enough to spend 2 hours last night scrolling through messages on said message boards. And now I’m writing this.
What can I say? The characters are imperfect, which makes them more interesting. The sci-fi/other-worldly twists add enough to the plot without being too hokey (although I missed the smoke creatures in the early seasons, so I may have to re-evaluate). The castaways include a bunch of hot guys. What’s not to like? The writers may have the remaining 3 seasons all mapped out, or they may be making it up as they go along. I don’t care. The show is fun to watch.
So I thought what if I were one of the castaways? Despite their shortcomings, all the surviving characters possess an inner strength or talent (or delusion that they have an inner strength or talent) that is used to help the group’s cause, as evidenced in the season finale. But I can’t snap a bad guy’s neck with my legs (or any other body parts), I don’t know how to jump-start a 30 year-old VW van, I’m horrible at lying, I drop practically everything I touch, and I couldn’t tiptoe through the jungle to sneak up on the bad guys without tripping on a vine and falling flat on my face.
Season Finale Bye-bye Castaway Spoiler Alert: BTW, note that while I may not be able to play the Beach Boys’ Good Vibrations on a keypad, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to fulfill my crackpot pal’s vision of me dying by locking myself into a chamber filling with water, even after I’ve done my part to save the group, and could use the time it takes to shut and lock the door with me on the inside to run out of the room and shut the door from the outside.
So how would I contribute to the Lost cause as a castaway? This is what I could come up with:
1. I would use my innate ability to pull useless celebrity trivia (is there any other kind?) out of the dusty recesses of my mind. I could confuse and distract Ben and The Others by reminding them of little known facts captured on Vh1’s I Love the 80’s series, or People’s list of 100 Most Beautiful People. Alternatively, my celebrity trivia would entertain my companions around the campfire each night. We could guess the names of celebrity babies, how many times J. Lo has been married or the age of Katie Couric’s boyfriend. Katie: back off and leave the 30-somethings for those of us WHO ARE ACTUALLY IN OUR 30’S.
2. I could use my decorating skills to enhance the living experience on the island. A little bit of berry stain to liven up those gray tent walls, artfully arranged shells and the fragrance of coconut oil would more than compensate for the fact that not one soul off the island has a clue how or where to find us. But fresh flowers always add a little something extra, don’t you think?
3. I could write memos to The Others using disturbing corporate venacular (i.e., utter gibberish) and passive, long-winded language to communicate our demands, negotiate peaceful solutions (bad for ratings) or, again, to confuse and distract:
Per your request, please find attached an initial draft of demands, as developed by the castaway team in conjunction with Acme Consulting, who facilitated recent brainstorming and story-boarding sessions designed to outline proposals, key considerations and recommendations on potential solutions for getting off this damn island. (Please refer to Attachment A for a detailed review of the selected story-boarding methodology.) … P.S. We used up our remaining supply of Post-its during the brainstorming sessions. Could you send some more over?
4. I may not be stupid enough to lock myself into a chamber filling with water, but I’m certainly stubborn/stupid enough to test my limits of handiness. Back on the mainland this may have meant that I’d push a 90 pound wood desktop up a flight of stairs so I could assemble the desk by myself. Or I’d try to move my old 100 pound TV on my own. Or I may have been inspired to paint the tippy-top corner of the wall in rooms with vaulted ceilings on a ladder that could use another six inches. (Note that I did NOT stand on the step that says “Do not stand on this step.”) You get the idea. I’m not sure what this means, but it could help. Maybe my castaway friends would let me build something cool to help get us off the island?! Maybe we could do a Trading Spaces kind of episode?!
I’d sleep with a hot castaway guy. On second thought, there’s that unfortunate vibe on the island kills off pregnant women. Scratch #5. I’m not that stupid or desperate. Yet. It’s only Season 3. Talk to me during next year’s sweeps.
That’s all I’ve got.