Southland is ba-ack

That's right, folks: the nitty-gritty L.A. cop drama has regained its footing with two excellent episodes to open season four. 

To recap, last spring I lamented the nose-dive in quality taken by the series during its third season. By the end of last year's run, Brad and I had had enough of the show, and we thought we likely wouldn't be tuning in again. 

This is saying a lot, given that Brad and I are nothing if not loyal to ours shows. We've been watching Law & Order seasons on DVD, in order, straight through for months; for years we've been devoted to Burn Notice, The Closer, Psych, NCIS (our fave.), and even House, which had me gagging nearly every episode last season b/c of the never-ending melodrama. 

In fact, the only show I can remember us being fans of and then giving up is In Plain Sight on USA, and we less "gave up" on it than we just sort of lost track of it mid-season and haven't found our way back yet - though I assume we will in time. 

So it is with great relief and no small amount of joy that we welcome Southland back into our TV fold. 

Why the furrowing, John? Things are looking up! 

And I've got high hopes for this season. The story lines have been action-packed and compelling, and the episodes even had moments of artistry. Sammy was funny and reasonable - instead of inanely irritating. John actually smiled on a semi-regular basis. Ben remained cute as can be, though he was a bit less goody-two-shoes, and Lydia got a new partner that Brad and I liked - thank goodness b/c Ochoa was hard to bear. Dewey was still Dewey, but what are you gonna do? I wish Sal would come back, but that's not gonna happen, and I'm on my way to accepting that fact. 

If you're looking for something to watch on Tuesday night at 10:00, tune into TNT and give Southland a shot. Don't let things get as desperate as they have at Amanda's house where they've started watching Dead Zone . . . :)

Oh, Charlie Brown

I didn't watch the movie this year, but I saw the commercial a few times tonight, and something Linus says is just cracking me up: 

"Charlie Brown, you’re the only person I know who can take a wonderful season like Christmas and turn it into a problem." 

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. I love it. Surely we all know that person . . . . 

Oh, and Merry Christmas (a day late)! 

Like sands through the hourglass . . .

Sometimes, when you're super caught up in writing endlessly long and endlessly meaningless things (read: a history of the criticism on a medieval poem that you only read part of), you forget how the rest of the world lives. That is, you forget about the meaningless indulgences they get to enjoy, indulgences that you, too, could enjoy, if only you would stop writing blog entries and reading other people's blog entries and just finish. your. damn. paper.

Such things as soap operas come to mind. In fact, after suffering through a horrible weekend and three more horrible days of paper-writing, Jo is now indulging in many DVR-ed episodes of Days of Our Lives, an exhilarating experience attested to in a text message convo. from just moments ago: 

Me:  How's Salem [i.e., the setting of Days]?? It can't possibly be as interesting as Sir Orfeo. Bahahahahahahahahaha 

Jo:  I watched about 12 hours yesterday. We had a kidnapping, some blackmail, an illicit affair, and lots of men without shirts. It was glorious 

Me:  Sounds abt right for two or three weeks of a soap opera. No one thought dead miraculously arrived on the scene?? That's a bit disappointing 

Jo:  No . . . but someone thought paralyzed began walking. And then he was promptly arrested for some white collar crime and his family was shot at :) 

Me:  HAHAHAHAHAHA . . . I really just laughed out loud. Ahhhhhhhh the world outside academia: how refreshing. 

Now, if I had hours to gloriously waste on a soap opera, I'd pick General Hospital hands down - but she's a Jersey girl :) so I guess we've gotta give her a little leeway (hehe).

Go ahead, rent Horrible Bosses

So b/c Brad is a Netflix slacker (i.e., he takes 3 days to send already-watched DVDs back), thus we didn't get two more discs of Law & Order season 8 in the mail today; and b/c I slept like crap and then had to spend the day on campus, thus resulting in super low motivation to do work tonight; we rented and watched Horrible Bosses by the light of the Christmas tree (well, and a lamp). 

We both had relatively low expectations, but, I'm pleased to say, it was actually pretty darn funny. Not think-of-it-5-days-later-and-start-randomly-cracking-up funny, but funny enough that one of us laughed at least every 4 minutes. Which isn't too bad at all, considering that most comedies are mildly disappointing at best. 

(It should be noted that Brad's claim that I "hate laughter" - simply b/c I always reject watching funny movies/shows in favor of dramas - is patently untrue: I spend a good part of every day laughing at people. So there.) 

The best part of the movie was the fact that a bunch of the minor characters were really famous actors - Kevin Spacey, Jennifer Aniston, Colin Farrell, Jamie Foxx (who was soooooo funny) - and the characters they played were pretty darn humorous. Plus it was fast-paced, and who doesn't love Jason Bateman?! 

Now, this movie is certainly no The Hangover or Dodgeball or Wedding Crashers, but it is a good Friday night $1 pick (gotta love Redbox). It has successfully withstood our "No More Wasting Our Lives on Crappy TV/Movies," a policy we instituted (and have basically stuck with since) this summer after one too many horrid time-wasters from Netflix streaming. The basic gist: if you'd like a light-hearted laugher, drop a dollar and you'll even get to see Bunk from The Wire fame.

Why I love Bob Costas

As if his years of stellar - and hilarious - Olympic coverage and the fact that he hasn't aged in 20 years weren't sufficient, tonight on Monday Night Football, Steelers vs. Chiefs, Bob Costas busted out the following line: 

"We live in a culture that in many ways grows more stupid and graceless by the minute . . . . " 

The man's got his finger on the pulse of America. 

My boy Costas then continued by commenting on the absurd, obnoxious, ridiculous celebrations that go on in the NFL end zone or after a sack, etc., a critique with which I could not agree anymore whole-heartedly (and I'm guessing most NFL fans are with me). 

Before closing, Costas offered another gem, saying, "Hey knuckleheads, is it too much to ask that you confine your buffoonery to situations that don't directly damage your team?" 

Is he 30? 40? 50? 

I do believe those knuckleheads were just Costa-cized. 

Yep, Costa-cized. That's a term Brad and I coined during the '06 Torino Winter Olympics to describe the phenomenon of a Bob Costas zing! - beautifully exemplified by his commentary during the male cross-country relay event:

 "Truly a warm moment on a cold and snowy night in Torino. The hometown fans just loving this. And I'm loving this Christian Zorzi, the anchorman on the relay team. He was nicknamed 'Zorro' in Salt Lake after an individual bronze medal performance when he donned a cape and a mask. Which is pretty much what I like to do after what I consider a successful broadcast." 

Isn't he refreshingly fab? I think Brad just summed it up quite well: "Oh, Costas, he's a rascal." 

Best and Worst in Politics this Week

The "Best" award goes to a real headline that sounds both like it's straight out of The Onion and completely accurate: 

"Fox News Viewers Known Less Than People Who Don't Watch Any News: Study" 

Maybe I should clue my dad in - ? He watches all the new channels though (constantly), so maybe he's breaking even. 

And the "Worst" award goes to Herman Cain for declaring that should he be elected president (dear goodness, please no) he will do whatever he can to defund Planned Parenthood. Yeah, sounds like a great idea. NOT. How do these idiots get into the position to run for the most powerful job in the world?! 

Guess my politics are pretty obvious at this point :). 

Don' you go rounin' roun to . . . what?!

Friday night Brad and Red Boxed Blitz, a barely mediocre cop movie with Jason Statham (yummity yum) at the helm. We understood about 82% of the dialogue, and only that much b/c of context clues, interpreting for one another, and continual rewinding. 

Blitz, as I did not know until after we'd made our movie selection (the choices were slim regardless), is a British movie - meaning sexy Statham was not the only one speaking only-sort-of-discernable English. Everyone was speaking that variety, and further, they were doing so in the like 18 accents that somehow manage to exist in a country that's about 2/3 the size of California. 

What is it about the way Brits speak that makes it so darn incomprehensible? Are American English and our accents this incomprehensible to the Brits? To the rest of the English speaking world? Goodness. I could barely follow the story. One highlight was Brad informing Mr. Statham, "The word is chips, not crisps." My response? "Wait - he was talking about potato chips?" Something (many things) was clearly lost in translation. 

We had a not dissimilar experience watching Luther this summer. Luther, for those of you who are unfamiliar, is a fabulous British mini-series starring Idis fricking Elba, formerly of The Wire fame (oh, Stringer Bell). First of all, I had no idea he was British till I saw that show. Second of all, I love how the Brit cops say "Gov" when they're talking to the lieutenant. Third of all, we loved the show but only understood about 85-87% of what was being said during any episode. 

And it's not just media. I mean, when Brad and I first rode the metro upon our arrival to London in summer '08, three soccer players had a conversation next to us in a language that was both certainly my own and certainly not. I think I understood a sum total of 16 words in about 10 minutes. And I don't think we heard that same version of the language one more time over 3 days in the city. 

All this puts me in mind of a completely delightful, totally-worth-watching SNL clip, "Don' You Go Rounin' Roun to Re Ro" - http://vimeo.com/19972082. 

It's a favorite of mine and Brad's, and it never fails to crack us up completely. Shannon was thoroughly amused when we showed her this summer, and I assure you, if you've ever found yourself watching a British movie/show and asking, "What the heck did he just say? What's happening?" you won't be disappointed.

The Friday 4: Tip-top Naps

Since I've been snoozing on the Friday 4s, a post on - what else? - snoozing seems like a good re-inauguration effort. And, since I loves me a good nap (just took #1 today) . . . . 

4. the Surrounded-by-kitties Nap 

Best enjoyed solo (except for the kitties), this nap is delightful on a comfy queen bed during the early afternoon. Stretch out across both sides of the bed in whatever odd position you fancy and be sure your furry companions have plenty of free pillows and blankets to curl up on. When you stir from slumber, flex a foot to find a warm kitty belly rising and falling beneath your toes. This is the ideal nap for the 75% sleep, that place of sweet sweet sleepiness where you have just enough consciousness to recognize that you're enjoying yourself. 

3. the Buddy Nap 

This nap can be a tricky one as you must be quite tired so that the tossings and turnings and getting-comfortable-ings of your buddy don't disturb your relaxation, but when you do settle into super calm mode, it is extremely peaceful and pleasant to have your loved one at your side. Drape an leg over his/her leg or let his/her hand rest on your stomach. Should you be roused prematurely from your rest, let the gentle breathing of your buddy lure you back to sleep. Buddy naps should extend from 1-3 hours for maximum enjoyment.

2. the Muted-TV-turned-to-bowling-golf-or-tennis Nap 

Ideal for couches or over-sized chairs, the Muted Boring Sports Nap (alias) works great on Saturdays in the late afternoon or early evening. Stretch out on the cushions in that position that you couldn't replicate if you tried and ignore that sensation telling you that you really ought to get up to do X, Y, or Z. The flickering of the television screen provides a sort of mood lighting appropriate for our 21st century world. The slightly subdued sounds of your co-habitors may from time to time pull you from your sleep, but don't worry, as such minor intrusions will allow you to linger in glorious 75% land. 

1. the Thunderstorm Nap 

The platinum of naps, the Thunderstorm Nap is the rarest creature due to its dependence on Mother Nature's mood and schedule. When the sky begins to green and the air gets eerily silent, you know the time is right for nap preparations. Make sure the windows are open and that you have a light blanket nearby because you are sure to enjoy a breeze. Don't despair if you don't fall into slumber during the (literal) calm before the storm: the repetitive sound of the rain will soothe you into sleep. When at all possible, take advantage of the weather and engage in this type of nap as you may only have several such opportunities per annum. 

Up with the Birds

Well, I guess 7:45 a.m. is not really bird-time, but it's really early for summer (for us), and when that alarm went off this morning, our groans could likely be heard by the birds three houses down. 

I bet these awesome birds sleep till 7:45 in the morning. 

Today is officially Brad's last day of summer 2011 - big frown here: :( - which means tomorrow his alarm will go off at 6 a.m. and he'll start making that way-too-long trek to and from work once again. Then I'm back to the grind on Thursday, though I will, thankfully, have no such crazy alarm. 

This summer has flown by. Floooooooooown. (I guess I've got a bird thing going on in this post . . . . ) 

We've had so much fun, and I hate that it's winding down faster than fast, but in contrast to the typical end of summer, I'm not dreading the start of the semester. Don't get me wrong: I don't want summer to end, and I'm not particularly looking forward to teaching composition yet again (esp. b/c the head of my dept. once again offered me a creative writing class - but it was MWF and there's no way I can drive in 5 days a week and keep my sanity), but I have a kind of acceptance of the fact that it's back to business.

I think it's largely a result of the fact that this is the last semester in which I have to take classes; in the spring I'll finish up my credits with a directed reading in an area of my choosing and start making my lists for comps. I can't tell you how good that feels; I'm so tired of coursework, I can hardly explain it. I have, after all, been in school for the last twenty-four years of my life.

For Brad's part, although he's desperately lamenting summer's close, he's grateful to have a job in this economy, and equally grateful to have a job that he likes, that he's good at, one with co-workers who like him and whom he likes back. 

L&O, seasons 4 and 5: back when the best-ever
show had its best-ever cast 

And so it's back to the computer (and the attendent neck ache), but not without fond memories of all the summer fun. And, indeed, Brad and I had a ton of fun this summer. We watched a lot of great tv (old Law and Order seasons, Luther, True Blood); relaxed on the patio with our new fire pit; hung out with my mom a lot; spent an obscene amount of time in Lowe's and an even more obscene amount of time in JoAnn Fabrics; wrote and read at Starbucks; went to the movies; frequented Goodwill and the Habitat for Humanity ReStore (I'm *in love* with that place and Brad really likes it, too); sword fought in the front yard; got hooked on Words with Friends (thanks a lot, Shannon); took neighborhood walks; chased each other with sparklers (which I always somehow call "sprinklers") on the Fourth of July; and just generally had a good time. 

I spent time with Amanda, Shannon slept over a couple of times, I revised a paper. And I never once had to put on a bathing suit. (Which, to my mind, is a major score because I hate bathing suits. Nevertheless, I do want to go to the beach in the near future.) Pair that with the fact that I'm running 2 miles in under 18 minutes despite runner's knee (if not for that, I'd be running more!) and that I haven't bought a piece of clothing in exactly three months, and I'm feeling pretty good. 

Plus, Brad and I (and often my mom) have done a ton of work on the house. Ton, ton, ton. I feel like we've been eating, sleeping, and dreaming DIY home improvement for the past three months. I've got a bunch of fun projects to show off! The difference in my house b/t now and the beginning of summer is hard for me to believe - especially on the small, small budget we've got. 

All this DIY is largely responsible for me going AWOL from blog-land. Three phone conversations should serve as exculpatory evidence: 

A month ago: 
Me: "Well, we re-painted the dining room walls and I dyed the drapes and sanded and spray painted the faucet and fixed the paint on the light fixture this week." 
Amanda: "You've done more on your house in a week than we've done here in 4 years." 

About a week ago: 
Me: "All right, I've gotta go - I have to get to painting." 
Amanda: "What are you people doing now?!?!" 

A few days later: 
Shannon: "Hi. What's going on." 
Me: "I have to call you back; I'm sanding a vanity door." 
Shannon (probably shaking her head): "That sounds like the kind of thing you would do." 

See? It's not like I've been twiddling my thumbs over here. 

The Friday 4: Serious Questions

Last Friday I was MIA for reasons I can only now guess at (they all sound a bit like, "Extremely stressed out and working like a maniac"); to make up for my absence (which I doubt anyone but me noticed), I offer four very serious questions for you to ponder. And I'd really like to hear your answers. It is my assertion here that you can't really know yourself until you've considered your answers to the following: 

4.  If you had the opportunity were forced to be on a reality show, which one would you pick? 

Survivor, duh. I'd get rockin' skinny, in mad crazy shape, lose my caffeine addiction (though I'd suffer a monster headache in the process), and have the chance to win, what, $1 million? Doesn't sound so awful - that is, till I start thinking about all the bugs out there in those outdoorsy places . . . 

3.  You've won a contest! Now choose from the following prizes: a brand-spanking new monster truck or a 2 yr. old dolphin. 

There are serious considerations to be weighed here. Like, the monster truck is giant, so where are you gonna keep it? The dolphin, though, lives in water; where in the h-e-double-hockey-stick are you gonna keep that one? 

Dolphins are cool, no doubt. They're swimming mammals, for crying out loud! Plus, they're smart and kinda pretty. And some dolphin species are endangered, so it's not a shabby idea to protect them or, conversely, get your dolphin prize and set her free off in the wild, wild waters. 

Even so, I've got to go with the monster truck. Yeah, it'd guzzle gas like nobody's business, but from what I hear of Shannon's hometown, it's just the kind of place where you could drive around on 66" tires without raising too many eyebrows. Though I might mock off-roading, I think I could make an exception for a truck on steroids. 

2.  Gotta give up (gasp) either bread or cheese. Decision, please? 

I'm twitching just thinking about this. In either case, you ain't havin' pizza no more. Which in and of itself is weep-worthy. 

If you say "see ya" to the cheese, you can't eat, well, cheese. I'm not sure any other argument needs to be made. Nachos would be sorely missed, for sure. And none of Olive Garden's dishes would be the same. 

If it's the bread you wave bye-bye to, you're not eating toast, sandwiches, stuffing, and on and on (well, on and on if you can think of other things. At this late hour, I cannot). 

I'm sorry to say it even as I'm saying it (typing it), but the cheese-o would get the heave-o. No, I'm not happy about it, but bread makes possible butter, which I'll affectionately call My Life's Staple. 


1.  For one day, you've got a monkey at your disposal; detail your activities. 

A baby mona 

Who doesn't love monkeys?! Who wouldn't want a pet monkey for a day?! Since meeting a mona monkey at the community college where Brad and I worked after first getting married, I've been about two steps away from trekking to the jungle and hiding a furry friend in my backpack. 

Ala Dane Cook's hilarious animated clip from Shorties Watchin' Shorties, I want a monkey to fight. With swords. And it's got to talk. And be funny. After we swordfight for a few hours (with breaks scheduled for our respective favorite beverages and foods), the monkey and I will go out to mess with my friends' minds. I'm not yet sure what the plan is, but I'm pretty sure it will be awesome. Brad can come with us if he wants (and how, really, could he not?). But only after the monkey and I have messed with his mind, too. 

Lastly, I'll have the monkey show me how to be a tree-climbing-and-swinging bad*ss. There are woods all around these parts that should do nicely. Oh, and actually lastly - another swordfight, this time with blindfolds (don't worry, we're using Nerf swords for this one). 

(I couldn't find the clip from Shorties - much to my disappointment - but the content of his stand-up on the monkey is here. Be forewarned, you delicate souls: it's not PG or even PG-13. He gets to the monkey bit at about 2:40, but trust me, the whole things is soooooo worth listening to. Oh, and Dane Cook is a babe.)

The Friday 4: Premature "Cancellations"

I'm being creative in my use of the term "cancellations" here, but it fits well enough. 

4.  Car:  Pontiac Bonneville 

Brad's looked just like this 

It's just sad that this car doesn't exist anymore (the same can be said about the whole brand). Good, old, American comfort. (Says the person who drives a Honda. But still.) I miss seeing them on the road. I also miss Brad's 2000 gold Bonneville, which he - I sigh - totaled in 2009. This, of course, is why we have the Blazer. More sighing. 

(runner-up:  Lincoln LS) 

3.  Presidential career:  Hillary Clinton

I voted for Hillary in the 2008 primaries. So did my husband. The rest of the county we were then living in, however, voted for Obama. It was a happy day for me when she accepted the Secretary of State position, but it ain't enough. I'm confident she'd be an effective, competent, and knowledgeable leader - and I'm holding out delusional hope that I'll soon have to retract this post b/c she'll be the 2012 Democratic nominee and, ultimately, our 45th president . . . I know, I know, come back to reality. I don't wanna. 

(runner-up - Bobby Kennedy) 

2.  Restauant dish:  Chili's chicken tacos 

Just seeing these saddens me 

Oh, oh, oh, I weep. Soft shells, delicious greasy sauce (what was that sauce?), chicken, lettuce, tomato, and, of couse, cheese - what's not to love? Brad and I used to split an order (plus bottomless chips and salsa) about twice a month. Until they started Menu Annihilation: the years-long process by which they replaced everything that was good and reasonable (by picky people standards) on their menu with nasty and/or tasteless and/or weird options. No more chicken tacos, no more Mushroom Jack fajitas, and they changed the recipe for the chicken Caesar salad (and the Caesar dressing). Now, we don't even bother going. 

(runner-up - Chili's chicken nachos) 

Ain't she cute? 

1.  TV show:  Veronica Mars 

I LOVE Kristen Bell. Could anybody be cuter? I think not.

Mock if you will (I did before I watched the show), but Veronica Mars is a freakin' great show. The people at the CW network were fools to cancel it. Fools! I say. Brad and I still haven't watched the third season (we only came to our senses once it was cancelled), but it's at the tip-top of the list for the summer - when we have time to watch like 6 episodes in a row and pull unreasonable and fun all-nighters. 

Veronica and Logan . . . love it! 

It's just so darn engaging. Drama, comedy, mystery, detective story - what's not to love?! Not to mention the fact that I love Logan. (What a babe!) Sure, it's completely unrealistic - no high school or college life is anything like this - but who the heck cares! People don't seem interested in shows that are like real life either (see the runner-up below), so that's not a solid strike against it. 

(runner-up - Boomtown)

Yummy yummy True Blood

Ryan Kwanten, aka Jason I've-got-
more-muscles-than-you-knew-
existed Stackhouse

(Okay wait, that kind of sounds like I'm talking about the synthetic blood drink . . . no, no, I stick to Mt. Dew and Starbucks, I swear.) 

After watching Season 1, I feel comfortable making the following assertions: 

-- The show's awesome. 
-- And it's pretty much all about sex. 
-- And that's okay b/c the vast majority of characters are scrumptious: Jason, Sam, Bill, Sookie, Eric (even if he's an a-hole), Lafayette, Amy (even if she's unbearably annoying), even Dawn. 

Okay, plus the acting's good, the stories are compelling, and they know how to do mystery/suspense. Brad and I suspected every single person of being the Season 1 murderer (well, every single guy) except for the person it actually was. And yet, that storyline was totally believable. And satisfying. 

If you saw the Sept. 2010 Rolling Stone cover with Anna Paquin, Stephen Moyer, and Alexander Skarsgard, then you know why I wanted to watch these beautiful people award-winning actors. I'm mean, yikes. 

BUT, if you need more than fabulous bodies to entice you (I shudder to think such a thing is possible!), I've got some "legitimate" reasons in my bag of tricks, too. (And, I'm about to contradict my claim that it's all about sex. Except I did say it was pretty much all about sex - not completely.) The show is timely, relevant, and unabashedly provocative in its engagement with 

Eeks! they're oozing sex all over my blog! 

-- homosexuality and intolerance/ignorance 
-- political hypocrisy (also know as "hypocritism" by me) 
-- racism and race relations (vamps and humans in the show, obviously - given the deep South setting, however, the real race issues are barely even under the surface) 
-- extreme, fundamental religion 
-- drug laws and enforcement 

and surely myriad other topics that I've been too dense to notice. 

Further, it should be noted that I praise the show not out of the now-popular adoration of all-things-vampire. I got over Buffy long ago, circa 1999, and I think the cult following it has achieved is, well, silly. It's really not all that good, and Sarah Michelle Geller's voice is fantasically irritating. It always sounds like she needs to clear snot out of her throat. (As some of you know, there's nothing like an annoying voice to prickle me.) While Brad and I religiously watched Angel during my early college years, that was less a function of quality (which, decidedly, is not high) and more a function of that's-what-was-on-TNT-when-Law-&-Order-reruns-weren't. 

And while I do love the Underworld movies and 30 Days of Night, I ask you, Who in her right mind doesn't!? 

Basically, True Blood's a smart show that will draw you in in no time flat. It might even make you think. And did I mention how sexy it is?

What has happened to Southland?

                                                  

(Spoiler alert:  if you haven't watched episode 4 of the current season of Southland and you plan to, then don't read this.) 

Things should be going well in the Land of South. Sammy's horrible, annoying, nerve-grating wife is finally getting the heave-ho, and, given Sal's lesser role this season, his shrieking daughter Kimmy has been thankfully MIA. (Brad and I have long wished for violence to befall both of these characters). Add that to the infrequent appearance of the idiot Dewey in recent episodes, and season 3 sounds like it's got the makings of magic. 

But it sucks. 

The episodes have lost their tightness, the interconnectedness of the various strands. The gritty violence took a leave of absence, while the surprising humor of episodes like "See the Woman" (John and Ben in the wig shop; the missing Bentley with the Great Dane) can be found only in the occasional side comment by John. One week's action seems pretty interchangeable with the next's. And now, a television travesty has occured:  Det. Nate Moretta has been killed out of nowhere. 

Not only is actor Kevin Alejandro gorgeously gorgeous, but his character Nate was also likeable, realistic, and interesting. He was someone you actually wanted to watch. And I don't care whether his sudden death was super "real," etc.:  the simple fact is that the show cannot afford to lose him right now. This season, Lydia is the only redeeming aspect of the series. Her new partner Ochoa is irritating and uninteresting; John and Ben have been bickering like old women at a card game; and, as Greg over at SpicyMovieDogs.com says, it was Nate who made Sammy's character work. With Sal and Chickie thrust into "recurring" rather than regular roles, the show doesn't have much to work with. Please don't tell me that Lydia's gonna start hating her job and go to med school; I don't know if I could bear it. 

I can't believe I'm saying it, but I long for the time when, two or three days after watching an episode, we were driving down the highway and in a momentary lull in some unrelated conversation, Brad exclaims, "F***ing Kimmy! Every time she leaves the house she gets in trouble!" The show was that memorable and intense. 

Since I should, instead of watching tv, be doing my loads of work, I ought to take the show's current crappiness as a sign to watch less tv. Instead, I'm thinking Nate's death is just another reason we need to start watching True Blood. I could get used to Kevin Alejandro as a hunky witch.