We like to watch

24 is about to wrap. The legend of 24, as anyone who has been chasing the dragon since season 1 knows, is it's ability to go retro 50's on us. Remember how you felt during those Saturday matinees when Buck Rodgers was about to 'eat it' on some wretched creature infested planet and you were sitting there in a pile of candy wrappers, a vast sea of popcorn, Popsicle sticks strewn across the floor, your tiny mind running around in hysterical circles, when those 3 slimy words crawled across the screen: 'to be continued.' Bastards! Someone on the 24 production team was watching. Have the plots on 24 been good? No. Have they been credible? No. Do they resonate with familiarity? Uh, barely. The leading man, Jack Bauer is as friendly as a door knob. I know 7 year old children who are smarter than Kim Bauer, Jack's daughter. Over the past 8 seasons all of Jack's girlfriends were card carrying members of anorexia anon. We did have our 1st Black president on 24. Futuristic reality check. We learned all about torture. Even before we learned the term, 'water boarding.' Another check mark for reality. We had Middle Eastern, Asian, African, and Russian bad guys. 24 knew how to spread the wealth and share the joy. And fantasy. For the last two seasons there has been a woman President. Certain things I learned from the show: I learned how to use the mute button on my remote as Jack was pile driving some poor schmuck, or getting his own high tech battery encrusted nipple piercing. I learned what everyone else learned by watching, that we were all prime voyeurism candidates (hey, it was free...we didn't have to pay) and that we had to look. 24 was loser boy friend or loser girl friend you couldn't turn away from. Call it addiction. Immaturity. Whatever. We liked Jack kicking ass, having his ass kicked, and then Jack resurrecting and kicking more ass. We were enablers chained to the shark pool. Season after season we couldn't wait to jump the shark again with Jack. So long Chloe, the greatest side-kick and shtick woman since...sliced bread. God knows the show needed your scowling face (Jack never emoted) and comedic relief. Does Jack die in the last episode, or does he go riding off (Jack, come back, Jack) into the Malibu sunset on a pair of water skis looking for the next great white? Rest assured. In the end whatever it is that befalls Jack on that final Monday night, the screen will not fade to HBO black.