Lost in Translation

The plane took off from Manchester right on time. It was cloudy and the girl next to me immediately fell asleep. The man next to her looked disappointed because I think he was anxious to talk to someone.
"Are you going to Philadelphia or all the way to Orlando?" He asked the girl.

"Philadelphia," she said, browsing through her ipod. Soon she was asleep and he was browsing through a magazine. I stared out the window, the rise of the airplane in the New Hampshire sky was perfectly insynch with the Dom's soaring voice on their song, Poor Boy. Moments later the music broke and I could feel a build coming. I expected something tragic or chaotic to happen. I looked around at the people around me and wondered, who would survive? And if they did, is their a John Locke among us? A Sawyer? A Kate? Do any of these people possibly play bass in a washed up British rock band?
Lost has made flying nearly impossible.

John Edwards announced his intent to run for President in 2008 this morning down in New Orleans. Scott isn't sold and I'm waiting to see what Delaware Senator Joe Biden has to offer. Regardless, if we were stranded on a desert island, I wouldn't vote for either one of them. I would however possibly vote for the woman with the long brown hair who was sitting in front of me. She seemed like she not only possessed solid leadership qualities, but a good way with people and if Lost has taught us anything, it's that people skills are pretty important when creating a small community of plane-crash survivors on a small deserted island in the pacific.
I spent the first fifteen minutes of the flight, looking around at the people seated around me. I was sizing them up, wondering who would be able to contribute what and when if we crashed. And it wasn't even a matter of if we crashed, I was almost waiting for it to happen. Even before we flew, I was in the terminal watching other people react with one another. I was seeing how people would get along. I was in this for the long haul. I was committed.
But this is not the first time a television show has affected my life and how I live it. Most recently The Wire has had me more concerned with wearing a hood and sitting lower in my car as I drive around. Band of Brothers gave me chronic, war-related nightmares and every night another friend of mine died. Heather suggested I stop watching it, that maybe it wasn't good for me. I agreed, but nonetheless, still watched it every week. Rob & Big makes me wish I had a large, fun bodyguard and The Office, well The Office just makes me laugh. It doesn't really affect my life at all. Oh, and The Soprano's makes me swear a lot and Entourage makes me walk with more of a glide and drink beer cooler.
These shows are too real. They bring me in to such a point that after watching them, I have problems separating my current life from the life I had that I wished included these shows, more specifically, being part of these shows. I never wanted to be part of Seinfeld or Family Matters or Saved by the Bell. I was entertained by them, but never to the extent where I wanted to actively participate in them. These new shows are striving for such a level of realism, that for someone like me, it has become almost too much. Oddly enough, I want no part of reality television and refuse to even watch The Real World anymore. But fiction shows that are so steeped in reality, are something I can't get enough of.
What does this mean?
Not much. Only that I know have more things to do when I'm flying and ultimately, that's not that bad. Keeps me distracted from my ears popping.
And I hate that.

Album of the Day: Incubus Light Grenades
Potential Food of the Night: Brown Sugar & Cinnamon Waffles
Athlete of the Day: Jeff Garcia
Ohio State or Florida: Florida in an upset. Oddly enough, Ohio State will upset Florida in the basketball championships prompting Joakim Noah to leave school and then get drafted by the Cleveland Cavs. In a related story, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers will draft Ohio State wide receiver Ted Ginn Jr in this year's draft. Meanwhile, Michigan, USC and Notre Dame form a support group to help them cope with the ills of the BCS system.


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