Lost, parenthood, poop, Sam

Random Thoughts On Parenting: Week One

1. Before we were parents, we figured that parenting a newborn was something like Desmond Hume pushing the button in the hatch every 108 minutes. You are bound to a few straightforward tasks — breastfeeding, changing dirty diapers, etc. — that must be completed, day or night, with steady regularity. The trick to being a good parent, we supposed, was disciplining yourself around completing these tasks and not going insane.

This turns out to be a flawed analogy. Speaking from six days’ experience, parenting is not like pushing a button every 108 minutes. It is partly about button-pushing — those diapers do need to be changed, and he does need that breast milk to keep chugging along — but we assumed that in between pushing the button we would be free to do other things, like eat or sleep or read for pleasure or pay the bills and water the flowers.

You can do those things, it turns out. But you don’t get to do them when you planned to do them. The day we came home from the hospital (Thursday), Sam pulled a brutal one-two punch on us: He stopped feeding, and he wouldn’t sleep. Take those two activities off the table, and all that’s left in a baby’s repertoire is “Cry His Little Lungs Out.” We didn’t sleep Thursday night, and we wondered if we’d ever sleep again. That’s not hyperbole. We were up to our chins in exhausted, exasperated misery for twenty-four to thirty-six hours there.

Things got better. Eventually Sam started feeding, and eventually he started pooping, and after six days our m.o. is something like push-the-button-every-108-minutes (the exact time length being flexible as it is controlled almost entirely by the baffling whims of a seven pound, six ounce creature who still has a gross nub where his belly button should be).

But the real flaw with the push-the-button analogy is that it misses the scope of parenting. It implies your job is task-oriented. What we’ve discovered after six days is that parenting is (to borrow from Eugene Peterson’s The Message) your sleeping, eating, walking-around life. Everything you do is parenting. Your thinking starts to change. (Erin: “I do not think I can watch ‘Law & Order: SVU’ ever again.”) Your habits start to change. (We overhauled our budget in June.) You see how the totality of bringing a new person into the world shifts everything a few degrees this way or that way — sometimes not the way you expected.

This is, we’re discovering, thrilling. Even with the sleep deprivation. But it’s also overwhelming. When we look up from what we’re doing, Sam is there. He’s not going anywhere. He’s the button that always needs pushing, and he’s the button we can’t stop thinking about or fussing over or taking pictures of in between.

2. Words of wisdom from friends: “The first three to six months is just surviving. Your job is simply to keep your baby alive.” And, “Patience and resilience. Babies make us better people.” Words of caution too: “Ben, are you going to raise him to be a Bucs fan or are you going to be nice to the kid?”

3. We’ve been tracking every wet diaper and bowel movement of young Sam’s life. During those twenty-four hours last week when we had only two wets and no stools, we asked ourselves every question that harried first-time parents in a similar situation could ask. What’s wrong? Are we not doing something right? Is he constipated? Is our milk bad? Is it even coming out? Is he only pretending to feed? WHY WON’T HE POOP???

Our lactation consultant — her name is Charla, and she is nothing less than a saint — told us that we might need to supplement his regular feedings until his “output” increased. This is a step we would’ve certainly taken for Sam’s benefit, but with the genetic disposition of parents such as ourselves, how long could he really go, honestly, without his number one friend number two? She gave us a deadline: If Sam doesn’t poop by such-and-such a time, we need to supplement. We missed the deadline. She gave us a second one; we missed that as well, but won a small reprieve with a wet diaper. Please, we thought, just give us a little more time. It’s got to happen any moment!

When it did, it was a dam bursting open. Poopy waters breached the levees. Fecal floodgates saturated Pamper after Pamper. The heavens opened and liquidy, mustard-colored rains poured from the skies. Never in our lives had we been so happy to see so much shit.

4. Charla was just one of many remarkable nurses at Christ who ministered to us. A good nurse makes a world of difference. We had only one bad experience. She was a nurse on the night shift with a brusque bedside manner. It was the last night in the hospital, and the first time Sam got fussy about feeding. After trying unsuccessfully for most of an hour, Erin, tears streaming down her face, called the night nurse. “Oh, you’re just getting the blues,” she said right off the bat before launching into a definition of postpartum depression. No, Erin thought, I’m not getting the blues — I just can’t feed my poor baby. The nurse did help with the latch, but left behind an assumption — almost an accusation — that we didn’t want.

5. Baseball fans are notorious stat geeks. So, it turns out, are parents. “Height and weight?” a friend asked on Facebook. “I never knew why people asked this until I had a kid, now I MUST KNOW.”

Why, then, has no one invented baby baseball cards yet? Parents would trade these things like nuts. On the back you could also list things like Interests (“pooping”) or Hobbies (“tummy time,” “pooping”). And if and when your kid one day became famous, imagine the value! A ’61 Obama, say, or a ’64 Cage Rated Rookie — that’d be worth both McCovey and Mays, with Don Schwartz thrown in there for good measure.

6. Your relationship with your parents changes once you become a parent. It’s almost like you can start speaking a new language with them.

Our parents have been amazing helping us through week one. We can’t imagine doing this without them. The Beers have rescued us with meals and caffeine, as well as cleaned our dishes, laundered our clothes and spelled us to take naps. (Never in Erin’s life did she think she’d talk about her boobs with her dad. Or that her mom would help her breast feed her baby. It seems a little normal now. Sort of.) The Vores have provided long distance support via steady encouragement and medical expertise. (Ben’s dad is a pediatrician and his mom is a nurse.) This is the first grandchild on both sides. He is going to be one stinkin’ spoiled kid.

7. Your relationship with your spouse changes as well. Though we always knew we’d one day be parents, it’s something else entirely to see your wife breast feed your son, or your husband burp him at four in the morning. It’s like your spouse’s secret identity has suddenly been activated when baby appears on the scene; your husband or wife surprises you with superhero powers of milk production or unrivaled reservoirs of patience and compassion. It’s a little like falling in love all over again.

8. Scooter Thomas has greeted Sam with a mixture of curiosity and mild disapproval. He sits in the doorway during crying spells with a look that says, What exactly is all the fuss about? Sam’s Pack n Play is a couple feet from our bed; when he’s inside it, Scooter Thomas sits on the edge of the bed watching, calculating. (Or is that a look of maternal concern?) He is certainly not pleased with the baby gate restricting him from moving freely about the house. We suspect he knows he’s not king of the castle anymore.

9. We have been blessed with an incredible community of support. From day one, Sam had a fan club waiting to cheer him on into the world. Besides Sam’s very excited extended families, Crossroads’ friends and Erin’s Bible study stopped by to ooh and ahh at him. We received droves of texts, calls, emails, and Facebook and blog comments. Before, when friends had babies and we sent a quick text of congratulations, we were genuinely excited but had no idea how each tiny relay of communication would be a source of encouragement and excitement. We’ve got a Luddite streak in us (this Gary Shteyngart essay is marvelous), but one benefit of technology is that it can communicate love in a big way when you’re holding something so small.

10. The rhetorical question every parent since the beginning of time has asked: Who couldn’t love a face like this?

friends, Lost, Uncategorized

Meet Mrs. Sayid

More Sam updates to come, but we had to share the following with our readers: Katie Stratman, world traveler and pizza chef extraordinaire, ate at the same restaurant had dinner with Sayid while traveling abroad. She’s only seen two seasons of “Lost,” but who cares? It’s Sayid!

Katie to Sayid: “I really liked your character even if some people didn’t.” (Yes, she really said this.)


Guest bloggers, now accepting any and all parenting wisdom and reflection you’re willing to share.

Lost, television

Lost Forum: “The End”

We found ourselves rewatching the “Lost” pilot on Saturday night (ABC re-aired it to amp up expectations for the finale), and we were reminded that from the very beginning the writers have always been opening boxes without knowing what’s inside them. The smoke monster, the polar bear, Charlie’s “Guys, where are we?” — we eventually got answers to these mysteries (sorta, kinda), but it took a good six seasons.

Those weren’t the only boxes though. By the end of season one we had the Black Rock, Adam & Eve skeletons, the Others, the lame walking, a baby-stealing French woman, and of course the hatch. Season two began with more boxes — there’s a guy in the hatch, and he pushes a button every 108 minutes? — and the boxes kept coming, one after the other, all the way up through last season, when the writers opened one with TIME TRAVEL written on it, and into the final season, when they opened a box labeled ALTERNATE TIMELINE/SIDEWAYS WORLD that threw everyone for a loop. The writers’ aversion to anything resembling certainty, much less closure, has been the show’s most frustrating but also its most essential quality. Ambiguity has always propelled the show forward. (Whether you wanted to stay along for the ride was another matter.)

So it all came to a close tonight with “The End,” and there were two essential questions we had going in: 1) Would somebody explain to us what was in all the boxes and how they fit together?; and, regardless of the answer to #1, 2) Would we care? Another way of putting it was whether “The End” would end with — let’s use Michael Giacchino terms here — a harp or a trombone. Would the finale be the equivalent of one long slow-motion beach sequence, a happy reunion free from dry eyes? Or would it be a cliffhanger what? twist, something more akin to the Sopranos fade to black?

The answer, it turns out, is both, although it was certainly more harp than trombone. Like many a TV show finale, the writers gave us a literal reunion — they put all our favorite characters in one room, a church, and they shocked us by making it a funeral. (Yes, “Everyone died” is actually a pretty accurate description to tell your friends who didn’t watch it.) As Jack stumbled to the same spot on the island where he first awoke (this time with Vincent curled up beside him, which made no sense whatsoever — a dog who has been AWOL for the past, what, four seasons, suddenly turns up with island hippies Rose & Bernard and then follows a dying man through the jungle so he can lie down next to him while he breathes his last? — but boy if the sight of man and dog didn’t make us tear up a little), he looked up and saw a plane overhead, this one not crashing but lifting off with his friends in it, the ones he saved by, um … rolling a giant rock plug into the island’s drain so that the Water of Life could flow once more through the Cave of Light. This scene, Jack’s island death, was emblematic of the entire last season: It strained credulity but there was still powerful feeling behind it. As an image, and as the story coming full circle, it was emotionally resonant and deeply satisfying. “The End” was something rare indeed: an ambitious finale that went for broke. Logically, it really didn’t all add up. But emotionally, it delivered.

We got answers tonight (like the fact that was no appendectomy scar), but they will be different depending on who you ask. Was the island purgatory all along? Was it real in the first place? (Christian Shephard said yes.) Or was the Sideways world purgatory? Was everything we saw simply from Jack’s perspective, his reconciliation and redemption and letting go? We may or may not have answers after we sleep on it. Honestly, though, we’re pretty satisfied as is. We were fine not having all the answers; we just wanted a good goodbye.

It was probably a mistake for the writers to keep ripping open boxes like a six-year-old on Christmas morning, but we let them get away with it because of the characters. No matter what missteps the show’s creators have taken over the last six years (and they definitely took some), the story never strayed from its principals, and the characters they gave us were rich, complicated, fascinating creatures. Jack got redemption. So did Kate. (And they got each other.) Locke got his soul back. Ben got forgiveness. Hurley got the island. Sawyer got Juliet. (We were happy.) Lapidus got his plane. Daniel got his concert. Claire got her baby and Charlie got Claire. Richard got gray hair.

“Lost” was unafraid to think big. It was a show about good and evil, redemption and salvation, science and faith, life and death. It found a way to dramatize these themes that was unlike just about anything network TV had seen before. We’ll certainly miss it. We liked “The End.” But we also knew it was time to go.


What did you think? Vote now!


And thank you to Tad and TB Smith for hosting a kick-a “Lost” finale party.

Lost, television

Lost Forum: “What They Died For”

Finally! Time for me to clock out.


“Stay tuned for the penultimate episode of ‘Lost’!” Tom Bergeron proclaimed after showing Chad Johnson Ochocinco the door last night on “Dancing With The Stars.”

“The ‘penultimate episode’?” Erin said. “That’s a bit much.”

“Well, it is the penultimate episode,” Ben said.

“I don’t care if it is or is not. Tom Bergeron does not need to be throwing around the word ‘penultimate.'”

“Even though it’s accurate?”

“I’m just ready for the show to be over.”

“Lost” fans and haters alike will get their wish soon enough. (Sunday, to be exact.) Last night’s (yes, penultimate) episode, “What They Died For,” hit the accelerator and delivered a surprisingly eventful hour. Usually the lead-up to any series finale is a bit sluggish and inconsequential. But the writers got that out of their system last week, and last night we thankfully returned to Jack and crew being front and center. There was a fireside chat with Jacob, who himself was burning out in that very fire. He delivered some answers, and found his successor, Jack, meaning thankfully the drama on Sunday will not involve finding his replacement. There was Man in Black in full-on Jack Bauer mode, killing and scheming, with the apparent help of Benjamin Linus. (We don’t buy Ben’s enthusiasm for playing the role of Man in Black, Jr. More in a second.) And finally in the Sideways timeline we have Desmond Hume orchestrating everyone’s convergence on what will surely be the most consequential piano recital in all of human history (unless it’s a Driveshaft concert? Or maybe David Shephard, Charlie Pace and Daniel Faraday/Widmore will all jam together onstage?). All in all it was a satisfying episode.

Before we go any further, let’s get a quick show of hands: How many people think ABC’s new show “The Gates” — “Desperate Housewives” meets Twilight, in the words of Tad Smith — will be a complete train wreck? One, two, three — well, everyone, it looks like? Yep. Okay then. Moving on.

The fireside chat. Given the chance to finally ask Jacob why he picked them, the castaways — Jack, Kate, Sawyer and Hurley — got some answers. Jacob told them he needed them because he made a mistake. He created the Smoke Monster, who we now know was his twin brother. Like any younger brother, Smokey wanted to best Jacob at his own game, a cosmic mismash of backgammon and Risk, with all the candidates as tiny figurines being strategically moved about the board. Naturally, they took exception to being told they were chess pieces. Sawyer asked Jacob what business he had meddling with their lives, saying “I was doing just fine until you dragged me to this damn rock!” It was a good retort, but Jacob had a better one: You weren’t doing just fine. None of you were. I didn’t pluck any of you from lives of domestic bliss or accomplished contentment. I picked you because you were like me: flawed. But why was my name crossed off?, asked Kate. That’s just chalk, Jacob told her. You became a mom — I wasn’t going to make that choice for you.

We’ve always suspected Jacob is closer to God than the Devil, and while he is a manipulative, selfish deity who’s ready for a thousands-year shift to be over, he struck us last night as kind. I’m giving you what I never had, he tells the fearless foursome — a choice. I may have royally screwed up, but at least I didn’t royally screw up the same way my parents did.

Then Jack drank the cup and his eyes registered a new cosmic reality (or he thought to himself, “Was that water purified? Am I going to get Giardia?”), while Kate, Sawyer and Hurley watched and Hurley said, “I’m just glad it’s not me.” We wouldn’t speak too soon, Hugo. Those sound like words he might eat.

Benjamin Linus will be here all week! “What They Died For” may have been the funniest episode of the season. While Miles got the best lines (“I lived in these houses 30 years ago, otherwise known as last week”), Ben got the best scenes, whether he was pulling a citizen’s arrest on Sideways Desmond or removing himself from earshot of Man in Black and Ben’s arch nemesis Charles Widmore … whom Ben dispatched with icy resolve, saying “He doesn’t get to save his daughter.” (And good riddance to Zoe, yet another season six time-waster.)

Ben seemed awfully eager to buddy up to Man in Black as his hired assassin. You could argue that Ben is just interested in self-preservation, and he’s signing on to prolong his life and wait for any opportunity he might find to save it. Fair enough. He’s certainly shown himself capable. But that would negate one of our favorite moments from this season: Ilana extending grace to Ben in “Dr. Linus.” We don’t believe that was in vain.

As Doc Jensen noted, Man in Black approached Ben from a point of weakness — he needed Ben to help him. Ben’s small talk as they walked through the jungle to Desmond’s well — he wondered why Man in Black didn’t just go Smokey on everyone’s ass all day long, to which MiB responded that he liked the feel of the earth beneath his feet because “it reminds me that I was human” — gave him some useful information about his demonic would-be employer (a nice turn on Ben employing Sayid as an assassin last season). Will he use this information against Man in Black? We say yes. MiB’s apparent soft spot for his former humanity is probably the only weakness anyone can exploit … assuming he really can be killed (jury’s still out on that).

The Sideways World is going to a concert! Desmond is easily the character having the most fun as we wind to a close — he’s punching weaselly history teachers in the high school parking lot, turning himself in to the authorities, and arranging for fugitives Kate and Sayid to get sprung thanks to corrupt cop … Ana Lucia! (We’re still waiting for Karl to come back. We’d put our money on Shannon turning up next week to help jolt Sideways Sayid out of his stupor.) Hurley assumed Ana Lucia was self-aware (or island-aware, or whatever), leading to an exchange wherein Desmond said “she’s not ready yet” and Ana Lucia told them “it was nice not knowing you.” How true, Everyone’s Least Favorite Character Not Named Arzt. How true.

So who is ready? Desmond and Hurley? Check. Kate and Sayid? They’re along for the ride now. Sawyer? He said he wasn’t going to the concert if Charlotte would be there. (We guess it’d be strange for everyone to be going to a teenager’s piano recital.) Ben? Was ready, but now he’s tempted by visions of domestic bliss and nightly dinners with Rousseau and Alex. Jack? Definitely not ready, which is why Desmond had to prank call him about his dad’s coffin turning up. Like running over Locke, Desmond did something cruel for the sake of something good — preventing the castaways from getting too comfortable and settled in a world they were never meant to inhabit. We guess Jack will have to disappoint his newly adoring son next week, meaning that, yes, a Driveshaft concert is a more likely bet than David’s recital.

Is Locke ready? After he received the message from Ben that Desmond wanted Locke to “let go,” Locke did just that: He went to Dr. Shephard’s office and told Jack he wanted the surgery.

So where does that leave us going into Sunday night’s finale, “The End”? With a lot of questions:

  • Can Smokey be killed?
  • Will Jack replace Jacob? Or will someone else take the cup from him?
  • Does Jacob really need a replacement? Or can the island take care of itself if MiB is out of the picture?
  • How does the island not end up on the ocean floor?
  • Will Jack and Sawyer finally reconcile? We got a little taste last night when Jack told a despairing Sawyer that it was MiB, not Sawyer, who killed Sun, Jin and Sayid.
  • Who threw Desmond the rope? (It was not Sayid.)
  • What does it mean that Desmond is the “failsafe”?
  • Is Des taking a swim down into the Cave of Light?
  • Why exactly did we need the whole Sideways timeline again?
  • Is Richard Alpert really dead? (We suspect no.)
  • Who gets shot in the season finale of “Grey’s Anatomy”?
  • Will Claire deliver her baby?
  • Can you pass the Super Bran?
  • Will there be any better place to watch the finale than Tad Smith’s house?

We’re ready for answers!

Finally, our apologies for a very delayed post today. (We had a seven-hour lunch at Don Pablo’s.) We promise to post something Sunday night/early Monday morning after the finale, followed by a more in-depth take sometime later on Monday.

More recaps from last night: Zap2It and Videogum, which notes “this thing has not come full circle at all” and then draws a perfect rendering of the shape this show has taken over the past six years. Enjoy.

Lost, television

Lost Forum: “Across The Sea”

Brothers don’t shake hands; brothers gotta hug!


Erin came home from the Cincinnati opening of Legally Blonde last night around 11 o’clock. Ben was half-asleep.

“How was your day?” she asked.


“Did you have a good class this evening?”


“You’re not sleepy, are you? Because I’m kind of wired.”


“Oh! How was ‘Lost’? Tell me all about it!”

This was the point at which Ben — previously feeling just a little guilty he couldn’t maintain a conversation with his wife after a long day for both of them — felt no guilt whatsoever. While Erin may have cared about how his day and his class went, she could care less about “Lost,” no matter that her feigned enthusiasm suggested otherwise. This marked the fifth straight episode Erin has not given “Lost” the time of day. Instead of watching with her husband, she has elected to variously do these other activities:

  1. Attend the musical Legally Blonde, which she reports was hilarious.
  2. Take a bath.
  3. Check Facebook.
  4. Finish schoolwork.
  5. State out loud remarks such as, “Why hasn’t Hurley lost any weight in six years?”, “I wonder what’s happening on ‘The Biggest Loser’ right now,” and “When does this show end again?”
  6. Poke Scooter Thomas.

Although he could see through his wife’s schemes, Ben made the effort to recap the episode for her.

“The episode started a really long time ago, they didn’t say when, and there was a shipwreck and this woman swam ashore. Oh, and she was pregnant. She stumbled into the jungle and met Allison Janney, who was really creepy –”

“–and did you know who went to Kenyon and so did Paul Newman and Bill Watterson!–”

“–I actually wasn’t going to mention that this time. Can I continue?”


“So Allison Janney delivers the woman’s baby and it’s Jacob. But then the woman has another baby — I’m actually glad you didn’t see this episode, she was in a world of pain — and it’s the Man in Black (or, in an aside I would have said had Tad Smith been in the room, a “Bad Twin“), except she doesn’t have a name for it. And as soon as Allison Janney sees it she knows something’s wrong, so she grabs a rock and smashes the woman’s head.”


“Yeah. So the two of them grow up and play games that the Man in Black invents the rules for and then one day Allison Janney–”

“Did her character have a name? Or do you need to keep calling her Allison Janney?”

“Her character did not have a name.”

“Fine then.”

“Allison Janney took them to this spring or underwater waterfall kind of thing and it was glowing with light. That part was a little cheesy. She said one of them would have to replace her as the island’s protector, but she didn’t say which one. It was pretty clear that she liked the Man in Black more than Jacob though, or maybe she just identified with him more. She was the one who left the game for him to find and she knew Jacob couldn’t lie–”

“Boredom. I’m getting a little bored.”

“Anyway, Jacob and his brother are running around the island one day when they discover there are other people there. Then Man in Black sees his dead mom, although for some reason Jacob can’t see her. She tells Jacob’s brother that he can leave the island and that Allison Janney isn’t his real mom — she is. So that part was interesting because it made the Man in Black a sympathetic character and not just a killing machine. Although by the end you realize that the Man in Black that we’ve always known isn’t really Jacob’s brother, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Heaven forbid you spoil it for me.”

“So Jacob’s brother decides he’s going to run away and use the people to help him find a way off the island, and they start digging wells trying to get to the source of the Island’s power, because the Man in Black can’t find the magic Light Cave that Allison Jan — his mom — showed him when he was a kid. We also found out that Man in Black had something to do with the donkey wheel.”

“Oh, right. The Mystical And All Important Donkey Wheel.”

“Man in Black’s mom gets fed up one day and knocks him on the head, and at first I thought maybe she killed him, but she just knocked him out long enough to show Jacob the Light Cave so he could be the island’s protector and relieve her of her duties. She was like Richard Alpert because she couldn’t age or die, but I think she was getting pretty tired of holding down her post. I don’t know how much we should believe anything she said either, because she was a manipulative, mom-killing, loom-weaving loon.

“Man in Black wakes up again and realizes all of his people and his hard work have been obliterated by Allison Janney — I’m hazy on this part, but I think she turned into the Smoke Monster — and he goes and stabs her in the back. She’s actually pretty happy about that because she thanks him. Jacob finds out, drags his brother to the Light Cave, and throws him down there. At first I wanted to believe he was trying to help him out and grant him his wish to get off the island, but I talked to Tad afterwards and he pretty much convinced me that Jacob knew what he was doing and that he was killing his brother. Allison Janney did say something about how going down there severed your eternal soul from your physical body, which sounds kind of painful. But the episode was pretty good at making Jacob sympathetic too.

“So his brother goes down the stream into the Light Cave and then shoots back out as the Smoke Monster. Jacob is walking around later and he sees his brother washed up along the stream. He’s dead. So he buries him next to his mom by the Caves — meaning they’re the Adam and Eve skeletons from season one, remember? As if the viewers were too dumb to put two and two together, they hit us over the head with that by cutting in old footage, which was a little lame.

“Ultimately I’m left with more questions. Allison Janney’s character said something to the effect of, ‘Every question I answer will lead to another question,’ which was basically the writers flippin’ the bird to any ‘Lost’ completist who wants all the answers before it wraps up. We’re one hour closer to the end and they did nothing to resolve the Sideways timeline last night. We still don’t know WHY the Man in Black can’t leave the island. We do understand Jacob’s emphasis on free will a little better, since he never really had a choice to protect the island. I mean, it wasn’t like he was going to tell Allison Janney ‘no’ when she brought him to the spring. I don’t know whether he means for Jack to replace him as the island’s keeper or whether he’s setting up something that would require no one to be the island’s keeper. We did figure out that the little Peter Pan boy who the Man in Black saw earlier this season was Jacob as a kid. And I think that pretty much covers it.

“Are you going to watch the finale, even though you’ve skipped out on most of the season? It’s two-and-a-half hours.




[light, feminine snoring]

“Great. Now I’m not tired anymore.”


Recaps from Zap2It and Doc Jensen, plus a New Yorker profile of “Lost’s” music guru, Michael Giacchino (J.J. Abrams tells Ross that “‘Lost’ would not be on the air today if it were not for Michael”), and an Entertainment Weekly gallery of “Lost’s” dead.