"Lost" and narrative compulsion

One of the ways in which I've been persuading myself I'm on vacation is watching the first season of Lost on DVD. It's not as addicting as some others I've seen, but it's been giving me the same pleasure as reading a series of good "genre" novels -- there's the comforting predictability of characters and plot developments, combined with the right amount of creepiness or surprise to make it interesting. (And some excellent casting -- the guy who played Ethan Rom, the abductor from outside the camp, was brilliant with the glazed-over eyes and fixated expression.) I can't help thinking every so often of the extras -- what must it be like to live on Oahu, just hanging out, working on palm-leaf huts in the background, and never see your name in the credits?

Part of being on vacation, for me, is succumbing to plot, being the naive reader or watcher. I can put very little effort into Lost and feel like I'm passively being entertained. Lazy? yes. Also mentally rejuvenating, though - I'm hoping that letting my brain lie fallow for a while, so to speak, will lead to greater mental energy and focus later on. In the meantime, on to disks 5 and 6...