My parents are not culturally lame. They are with it; they always have been. While the hipsters are just catching on to the adventures in Baltimore, my father was watching The Wire as it aired on HBO. He was the first and only person I knew touting the soon to be (re)discovered television treasure. They used to send me a VHS of the newly aired Six Feet Under while I was away at college. I would dutifully mail it back on Thursday and I would get it back with another exciting hour the next week. This was in 2007, and the internet and certainly internet piracy hadn’t caught up with my parents.
So the other day, my friend Dean and I were talking about the Dexter finale? Did you see it? I guess I must say: SPOILERS AHEAD! STOP READING!
So I always thought Deb was going to find out and then she was going to die. I always thought that would be the direction of the show. And my friend Dean, says, “No, they wouldn’t kill off a main character before the end of the series. That would be crazy.” And I say, “Well, they killed Nate off in Six Feet.” And he turns bright red, and says, “Well thanks, I just finished the first season.” And I say, (JUST DIGGING DEEPER AND DEEPER) “Oh, well he dies twice, so it’s no big deal.” And at that point, I think Dean vowed to never speak to me again
SIX FEET UNDER ENDED FIVE YEARS AGO.
that is not my fault.
I loved every second of the series; I don’t think I have loved a series so intensely since it ended. Have I really gone five years without anything seriously good on tv?
