Confessions of a ‘Lost’ dropout

Like a college student who slept in a few too many times, I was walking down the street to my final exam studying someone else’s notes in a frantic attempt to cram as much last-minute knowledge into my head as I could.

And that’s because I am a “Lost” dropout.

Somewhere between Ben moving the Island and the flashsideways alternate life stories, I stumbled off the path. Once a dedicated follower of the show, life got in my way — and “Lost”… well, she was a demanding mistress. With its intricate plot lines, inexorably slow emotional reveal of character motivations and perversely pleasurable system of treats and rewards for the most dedicated of viewers, the show necessitated – no, demanded — fetishistic devotion on a deep and uninterrupted scale.

But I was weak…

Maybe it was dinner with a friend… or a late night at work. Did the Tivo simply not work one night? Maybe I just got tired and went to bed. Whatever it was, I missed an episode. Not wanting to watch the show out of order (ironic for a show that reveled in jumping through time without warning), at some point last year I vowed not to watch the next episode until I got caught up. But I missed the next week, too… And the next week. And with three episodes to speed through, I didn’t want to hear about anything happening on the show until I was back in synch with its ever-shifting present… so I skipped a fourth episode.

And then it just snowballed…

Banning anyone from watching or discussing the show in my home until I got caught up, I somehow ended up a year and half behind.

So yesterday, I spent every waking moment reading episode summaries and peppering my wife with questions (lucky her: maternity leave let her get ahead of me in episodes…). From Zap2It to EW.com to WashingtonPost.com to About.com — I read obsessively… We even DVR-delayed watching the two-hour recap so I could keep reading someone else’s descriptions on my iPhone in one hand while I prepared the next-day’s baby bottles with the other…

But I didn’t make it.

Like the college student above, I finally took a deep breath, accepted my fate and sat down for my final exam knowing that I hadn’t read the last chapter.

It didn’t matter… well, it did, but it didn’t.

The finale last night was emotionally satisfying — and while I still have questions (did the flashsideways lives really happen? Why did Ben do the things he did? Where were Nikki and Paulo?) — I found its final message — the importance of searching not for rescue but redemption, connecting not with the world you think you lost, but the world and the people you have with you now — to be important, complex and bafflingly deep for a television series.

But I also spent those two hours ruing the way I frittered away my devotion to the show, the way I betrayed its quiet demands for fealty and intimacy with earthly pursuits and selfish desires.

I was happy during those two hours as I once again got wrapped up in the spiderweb of plot intricacies, but also chagrinned as I was reminded how rare a treat this show was — and how much I missed (and missed it) during my accidental interregnum.

Some shows gain dedicated followings because of the amazing acting… or the gripping plots. Maybe it’s the clever writing, the buoyant elation of laughter or the catch-in-the-throat drama, or simply the desire to close the door on real life for a few minutes and escape to some other reality. Lots of shows have some of these elements. But “Lost” hit them all. Every time you tuned in, you were rewarded.

And even when your devotion to the Island wavered, as mine did, its dedication to you didn’t.

Thanks, Jacob.