I can't remember who shared that nugget of wisdom, but it's a theory that I live my life by. It's one that I've really lived my life by lately.
My personal Lost marathon has enveloped my life to an unhealthy level, but hopefully not one approaching the aforementioned death.
So far it's been 3,093 minutes of my life. Thank goodness that's been commercial-free.
Translated into more digestible numbers, it's a little more than 51 hours, which is just about the amount of time it takes you to get through the line at Wal-Mart on a Friday afternoon.
It's been as frustrating as anything I can remember. But it's as addicting, as I've said before, as anything I can imagine.
But thank goodness I'm not alone. Obviously I'm not alone in watching it, but in writing about it either.
Good friend Will Heath, writer and creator of www.firewillheath.com, is a Lost guru. When he's not doing his due diligence as the editor of the St. Clair Times, he brings his thoughts on Lost to the world.
Like myself, Heath jumped onto the bandwagon after the show's premiere, catching up on ABC.com sometime after the second season. Initially watching a few episodes "just to see if I liked it," he said it snowballed.
"In the case of this particular show, the writers and the producers put a lot of thought into everything," Heath said, "whether it seems realistic or not."
At the pace of a competitive eater, I've gorged, taking in the first three seasons at a blur. And already, I'm taken aback.
The flashbacks, annoying as they might be, are helpful, but I was surprised to learn that we would also be introduced to flashforwards. That's completely thrown me off, because I assumed from the beginning that the final episode would be some cheesy rescue. Or they all died.
Which is what I've come to expect in the first three seasons: constant curveballs.
Some of which downright tick me off.
OK, so if there are 40-something people on this island, why just throw two into the plot nearly halfway through the show? Let's just call them the Diamond Duo. That was just plain stupid.
As are the Numbers.
Sure, as Heath says, everything means something, but I can't help but think it won't make that big of a difference to the overall show.
Without giving away too much to ruin things for me, Heath pontificates on "something nuclear" to the Numbers' meaning.
At this point, I don't know what to think.
The show seems to follow most any Hollywood premise. You've got your leading man, Jack. His constant love interests: Kate, Ana Lucia and Juliet. The guy everybody loves: Hurley. The guy everybody loves to hate: Sawyer. The idiot who gets on your nerves: Charlie. The villain: Ben. And the one guy you can't quite figure out: Locke.
And the whole figuring-out part of this show, to me, is what has made it popular.
At least at this point, nothing has really blown me away. Sure, I watch it. Sure, I crave it, but it's only because of my truly human nature of wanting to know what this means, or what's going to happen next.
It's not because it's brilliantly written.
It's more than brain candy, but less than a classic.
P.S. — Going back to my original comparison to Gilligan's Island … in the epic Mary Ann or Ginger debate, I've got Claire.
... and now i'm found
Sports editor Bran Strickland is on a crusade to catch up with Lost before the final-season premiere on Feb. 2. Follow his progress — but don't give spoilers — on Twitter, @Bran_Strickland.