Friday, May 7

Lost Friday - "The Candidate."

Season 6 - Episode 14: "The Candidate."

Another Lost Friday is upon us. We have much to discuss; it’s good to be back.

In CDP terms, a two-week vacation is an eternity, and I made the most of it. I made a ton of progress on the next book, exercised like crazy, watched a dozen zombie movies and flung coffee at birds from my deck. As I was also off of work during this time, I experienced nine full days of silence, productivity and no pants whatsoever. It was divine.

While it wasn’t my intention, I went seven days without leaving the house, and six full days without speaking to anyone besides the Missus. By the time we went out for dinner with friends later in the week, I felt borderline feral, like I had long forgotten the social norms and etiquette of public life. When the waiter asked me what kind of salad I wanted, I bit him and urinated onto the cheese plate. And I wasn’t even drunk this time around. I made sure to tip generously.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time off, but the last few days have felt a bit…cursed. This began on Tuesday, when I had my annual physical at the Doctor’s office. My physical was supposed to be last Thursday, but I received an early morning call that day from the clinic, asking to reschedule because my physician was sick. This should have been my first sign that things were going to spiral out of control a tad.

Before a physical, they ask you to fast for half a day. No food or water, as they want to get an accurate reading when they start examining your blood and pee and whatnot. By the time I walked into the clinic, I hadn’t eaten or drank anything in 18 hours, so I was more than a little groggy and cranky. They weighed me (155), checked my vitals and noticed that I was due for a tetanus shot.

Doctor – ‘You need a tetanus shot.’

Me – ‘No way, I had one a few years ago.’

Doctor – ‘Our records say your last shot was in 2000.’

Now, he was probably right. After all, medical records are globally reaching and all-powerful, and I honestly couldn’t remember a tetanus shot after 2000, but I really felt as if I had one.

Me – ‘Damn. Can I do it next year?’

Doctor – ‘Our records indicate that’s what you said last year.’

He was right, but I had hoped he wouldn’t remember that exchange.

Me – ‘Am I getting out of this?’

Doctor – ‘Afraid not. We also need three tubes of blood and a urine sample. Now drop those pants.’

The good news is that I didn’t have testicular cancer, and I didn’t cry in front of the phlebotomist and her three interns when they took my blood. The bad news is that they wanted a urine sample, and I had absolutely nothing to give them. I mean, I was starving and dehydrated; where did they expect me to work this up from?

Nurse – ‘We need about a half a cup.’

Me – ‘A half-cup? I’m not even drunk!’

Nurse – ‘Leave the cup in the bathroom; catch it mid-stream. Have a good day.’


I felt very alone in there, and for the next five to ten minutes, I ran the sink and paced around, reading wall directions and wondering how embarrassing it would be if I couldn’t muster up even a sprinkle for them to analyze. Finally, I got down to business and worked a sample up from somewhere near my ankles. Seriously, this urine was black as night. I washed/zipped up and hit the road.

Sort of.

The drive home was about 40 minutes, and I was out of gas, literally and mentally. I was extremely hungry and anxious, could barely keep my eyes open and struggled to keep it together on the highway. I quickly hit the gas station and hightailed it to the bank to deposit a bunch of random checks and cash for the Missus, where I’m certain the tellers assumed I was a heroin addict. After all, I was pale, stumbly, sporting a bandage on my arm and asking them to deposit crumpled currency into our business account.

Me (slurring) – ‘I’m hungry, can you deposit this handful of money?’

Teller (apprehensive) – ‘Umm, did you have a garage sale?’

Me – ‘What?’

Teller – ‘Oh, usually when people deposit random stuff like this, it’s because they had a garage sale.’

Me – ‘Nope, my wife sells handbags, and I sell meth.’

Teller – ‘Mmm-hmm. Here’s your receipt; please go eat something.’

Finally, after a long day and nearly 20 hours without food, I stopped at Cousins’ Subs and nearly kicked the door down. This was my last stop on what felt like the longest day of my life, and I couldn’t wait to dive into a 15-inch Three Cheese with extra mayo. I probably looked insane; I forgot that I had to take my shirt off a couple times during the physical, so my hair was all messed up and haphazardly splayed.


Sandwich Artist – ‘You got it.’

While I was waiting for my plentiful bounty, I decided to rip off the bandage from where the blood was drawn. Unbeknownst to me, I was still bleeding. So now I look like a bona fide junkie, clutching a napkin to my pale arm, crusted with blood while trying to stand still and not pass out. I really wanted to go home at this point.

When I finally got back to my house, I made the mistake of wolfing down the sub and a soda as fast as humanly possible, which caused me to throw up and pass out on the couch. The next thing I remember, my wife was walking through the door, asking me what the hell was going on. To her, it probably looked like I had OD’ed in the Living Room several hours ago, and she discovered my bloated husk long after any attempt to save me would have been productive.

Missus – ‘What happened?’

Me – ‘Umm…I ate a sandwich.’


I eventually came to my senses and relaxed for the rest of the evening, but then heard that a tornado all but decimated my hometown of Larsen, Wisconsin. My mom called to let me know that the barn that stood at my childhood home, the barn that I essentially grew up in, had been destroyed. Honestly, that hurt way worse than the tetanus shot. I can’t tell you how many days I spent in that barn, shooting pigeons, playing with cats and building forts with hay bales. This was a bummer, but I pretended it wasn’t.

On Wednesday afternoon, I was back to 100%, but the curses continued. The Missus and I were walking into the garage so we could drive to a pizza place, when she stepped down wrong and severely sprained her ankle. It cracked like bubble wrap, she screamed and I tried hard not to puke.

As I was holding her up and asking her what she wanted me to do (I didn’t know how serious it was at that point), the first thought that entered my mind was ‘I have to close this garage door immediately. If anyone walks past and sees my terrified wife wailing in my arms, they’re going to think I stabbed her and call the police.’ This was admittedly a selfish move on my part, but I took good care of her, and she’s resting comfortably with an air cast. Send well-wishes her way if you get the chance.

You know, I think I feel another vacation looming closely. In the meantime, let's talk Lost. Quickly.

1. The Man In Black is just as evil as we thought he was.
2. Jin, Sun, Sayid and probably Frank are very much dead.

3. The Man In Black is on his way to finish his murder spree.
4. The Flash-Sideways Timeline continues to be profoundly confusing.
5. Smash cut; episode over.

Did I miss anything? Sure, the episode was decent and big concerning the characters (I feel that the Jin and Sun storyline isn't over; what about their kid? What about Sun's dad? So many unresolved issues), but more than anything, it's setting us up for a 'Last Man Standing' showdown between Good and Evil, and I'm more than ready to see this happen.

I'm admittedly sad to see Sun go. She's been a huge crush of mine since I was 22 years old, I thought she was a fantastic character and I've had a crush on her since I was 22 years old. However, one of the cool things about the mystery of the Flash-Sideways is that they still might be totally okay. Who knows? Send any theories my way.

Thanks for reading. Sound off in the comments section, enjoy your weekend, and catch up on all of Season 6 by checking out the following links.

Season 6 - Episode 1/2.
Season 6 - Episode 3.
Season 6 - Episode 4.
Season 6 - Episode 5.
Season 6 - Episode 6.
Season 6 - Episode 7.
Season 6 - Episode 8.
Season 6 - Episode 9.
Season 6 - Episode 10.
Season 6 - Episode 11.
Season 6 - Episode 12.
Season 6 - Episode 13.
I'm On Twitter.
I'm On Facebook.

Holy cow, it did not occur to me that Frank probably explodeded when the sub explodededed.

That is even sadder than Jin/Sun!
I knew Frank was dead as soon as he took off from the bushes with Sawyer toward the submarine (spoiler alert). I could see it in his squinty, manly eyes.

BTW - have you seen this epic sportscaster meltdown?
CELIA - Yeah, I really liked Frank. He was like the grizzled Hurley.

CARGIRL - I love how Frank went along with every harebrained scheme, even though he agreed with absolutely none of it.

SMED - Sure did. This is what happens when you love something so much that you inevitably begin to despise it.

Post a Comment

<< Home