After enduring months of mocking from my family for my moderate-to-severe Lost obsession, I finally succeeded in getting my mother sucked into the show, much to my brother's dismay. Upon discovering that I had started our mother watching Lost, he sent me a very disgruntled text message--something along the lines of "NOOOO!" But it's too late now; she's already on season two. MWAH HA HA!
I am reveling in my second rewatch of Lost. Watching with first-timers is great because you get to witness their every revelation, and their fresh confusion at every seemingly-ridiculous plot turn. (Example: "Why the hell is there a polar bear on this island?!") I swear, if I could erase Lost from my memory and watch it anew, I would do it in a heartbeat. That may sound crazy, but if you watch the show then you understand what I mean.
Since the first episode, my mother keeps asking me about all the castaways, "Is he/she a bad guy?" What a loaded question, Mom. How can I put this...? If John Locke was a facebook status, he would be "It's Complicated." And don't even get me started on "Henry Gale."
I'm finding it difficult to control myself, trying desperately to keep from saying things like, "Don't worry, Mom. Shannon won't be annoying you for much longer," or, "Don't get too attached to those Tailies." And when she says things like, "This whole thing is obviously purgatory," I can't help but giggle in my corner and say, "That's an interesting theory."
Really, I think this whole exercise is just a result of my refusal to accept that this beloved show is really, truly over. So rather than move on, I'll continue to vicariously experience the thrill of that first viewing of Lost. All I can say is, thank God for DVD.