I don’t know if I care about Ozark and I’m sad

So I discovered last night that new episodes of Ozark had dropped on Netflix. I audibly squealed. I assembled all the goods that I needed for my anticipated binge-a-thon. A couple of drinks, with and without alcohol. Snacks included sour cream and onion chips, hummus, marcona almonds and a brownie. I put my phone down, fired up Netflix and stifled another squeal. The Byrde family is back and enamored with living in the shade.

The recap of the last season was a great appetizer toward starting Season 4. I was anxious and psyched. Season 4 Episode 1 started with some excitement and I watched. I kept watching. <Spoiler Alert> The son, Jonah, played by Skylar Gaertner is taller. I watched a little over half of the episode and I was starting to not care. I could have been tired and sleepy from all the chewing. It might have been the storyline: a familiar scene with original and new characters. When is the latest avalanche of detritus going to hit Marty and Wendy in the face?

Season four has been split into two parts. Part one has seven episodes. I hope it was me and I can reclaim a show that I was so excited to watch. I had breakfast, so now may be a good time to finish Episode 1 which is called “The Beginning of the End.” I’m crossing my fingers.

Where the hell is the remote?