Demagogue

I'm a HUGE lover of HBO's Six Feet Under. I am already mourning the loss of the fabulous show regardless of the fact that the final episode isn't airing until this upcoming Sunday. I have a feeling it'll be a little like a funeral for a whole bunch of people that I've grown to really care about. (For the record, I've never felt this way about a tv show before.)

So this past weekend I did a little e-bay scavanging to see if I could snag a poster or some other memorbilia from the show. Instead I discovered that even my own fandom has limits. Some anonymous person is selling items from the set of the show. I was intrigued. So I started bidding low on the semi-memorable ceramic fruit plates from the wall of the Fisher's kitchen, hung adjacent to the kitchen sink. At the urging of the other Mrs. Kentucky (she indulges me so) I bid a little higher than I originally planned. We figured it is a nice idea to have a small piece of SFU as a reminder, not unlike the way I've kept small tokens from people who I know who have died.

Last night these tacky, thrift-store find, uncertified plates went for $348.56. Oy, I don't fetishize the show that much. But there was been no other show on tv that deals so well with death and the screwed-up family dynamics around death. It will be sorely missed.