I know that some of you have been overwhelmed with grief over the screeching halt to my awesomely awesome and semi-acclaimed recaps of this season’s Top Chef episodes. It’s a long and torturous story of benign neglect, natural selection, Mother Nature’s revenge, and a horrible sense of ennui.
Well, basically what happened was we had a huge storm two (now three) episodes ago that overwhelmed my Dish Network satellite dish. I came home to find that nothing had been recorded due to some pretty nasty weather. So I had to wait a few days before it was re-broadcast. I got that recording and started my recap. This was a day or two before the “Restaurant Wars” episode was aired. I got about a third of the way through when I watched last week’s episode and got sort of tied up in that one. Then, stupid me almost reflexively erased the last episode at the end of the show, something I did almost out of habit, as I seem to always be less than 10 hours from being maxed out on my available storage.
In any case, now we have yet ANOTHER episode unaccounted for.
I seem to have lost the plot, as our British friends would say (they might also say that it’s all gone pear shaped, but that’s a different kettle of fruit).
I have the partial recap from three weeks ago, but it’s still up in the air as to whether I’m going to finish it. I have all three episodes saved for review purposes, but I’m not sure that I can recapture the lightning in a bottle of the early recaps. Perhaps I should consult the metaphor judges to see if I’ve exceeded the recommended daily requirement of poorly constructed metaphors.
So, bear with me. If I find a flood of pitchfork-raised posts demanding that I put my two cents worth in, I might be persuaded to do my duty and provide the commentary that you are all lusting for.
Failing that, I might just raise my glass to the finalists.
I can sum up the last episode in one word though – hubris.
Gotta love you some hubris, that’s for sure.
