You Had Me at "Lost"

I used to not watch any television. Now I watch far too much. But all of that mind-pulping, eye-glazing time is well spent because it brought me to "Lost."

What a brilliant show! Not since Twin Peaks has there been a more convoluted, non-linear story arc on television. The writing is impeccable. The characters are well-developed and engaging. The tension from episode to episode can be sleep-disturbing. And the story depth is unmatched. After the second season I was terrified that maybe the writers were just throwing in new story elements willy-nilly, with no thought to pay-off or narrative development. For the most part that's proven to be completely untrue. While there are a few details that seem to have been abandoned, most things have managed to tie into what is becoming a masterful twine ball of a story.

I'll sum up the story for those of you that haven't started watching without giving anything away. Something happens to a bunch of people, and after a time they think they have it worked out. They don't. A whole mess of crazy stuff happens to them. They process it and think they have it worked out. They don't. They break into smaller groups, hoping to mull over and work out their new circumstances. This fails miserably, leading them further down the rabbit hole, deeper into confusion and crazed in-fighting. Then, a Eureka moment! Something makes sense. A light in the darkness. They finally understand what's going on!

Except they don't.

That's the sort of ride you're in for once you plug your brain into the "Lost" universe. It's a frustrating, aggravating, and delightfully confusing experience interspersed with epiphanous periods of deep understanding. If you're a TV junkie, you need to add lost to your roster. If you don't watch television, make an exception for this show. If you don't own a television, break into your neighbors house while they're on vacation and watch the series on DVD. Do whatever you have to do...knock over a Best Buy if need be. Just watch the show.

It's the best 46 minutes (skipping commercials) on television.

I Love the Amish...or at Least Their Markets

I'm sure if I got to know a few Amish people I'd find them to be very pleasant, agreeable people.  The few that I've met seemed to have big hearts and friendly natures.  But I've never had the opportunity to chat with them.  My interactions are usually far less social, restricted to requests for extra ketchup on my bison burger.

And that's really enough for me.  I love the purely financial, consumer relationship the Amish and I share.  The Amish market is a wonderland.  You need pie?  How about the greatest blueberry pie mankind has ever seen?  French fries?  Pah!  Try seasoned fried new potato slices slathered in some sort of delicious animal fat.  And the bison burgers?  Forget about it.  It's no wonder the early settlers nearly hunted the beasties to extinction.

But it's not just food.  Furniture, housewares, holiday gifts, and most other categories are represented (automobile accessories and electronics being the obvious exclusions.)  The Amish have the ability to take any given thing, and make it better than it's ever been made before.  It's seems almost compensatory, like a blind person's heightened other four senses.  By swearing off modern technology and simplifying their choices, they've developed the technology they do have into an immensely efficient toolset. "Aiy", they say.  "We may only have a handsaw, a pair of tweezers, and a grinding wheel, but we'll make you a chair better than anything your 'Herman Miller' could ever make."

The only downside is the hours, at least at the Amish market near us.  They're open Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.  That's it.  How can they do that to us?  That's like Chuck E. Cheese telling kids they can only come in on Mondays after 11PM, or ABC airing a new episode of "Lost" every seventh odd-numbered Wednesday only.  Torture.

So, Amish god, consider this a formal petition.  I, and the millions of others who live for your macaroni and cheese and meatloaf sandwiches, hereby affix our names and beseech you to allow your children to do what they do second best.  Sell us great stuff.  Please grant them more time to sell us what they do best; they take the mundane and make it great.

Thanks, Amish god.  You rock.