You’ll be swell! You’ll be great!
Gonna have the whole world on the plate!
Starting here, starting now,
Honey, everything’s coming up roses! – Mama Rose

So ends Six’s story, with the tearful reunion of an accidental family and the broken heart of a lifelong friend. Nothing ever could stop Jason Street, not even a broken neck. So while yes, the kid with the GED getting even an entry level job at a New York boutique agency is a bit crazy, I can *almost* believe it. Scott Porter is that good. He’s so good, I could watch Jason lie outright to Wendell about being on his way back to Dillon and stopping in just to help the poor kid make the right decision and *still* believe every word he said.

That’s a testament to Street as a character and Porter as an actor.

Jason rolls off into the sunset on $40K a year and the knowledge that he’ll be running that agency someday. At least he should know that.

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I’m not sure what to say about tonight’s season finale. It did everything Burn Notice does well, only bigger. Much, much, BIGGER. Two big car chases, bombs and fireballs, and the biggest blowup to Michael’s situation we’ve seen since the season one finale made this the most packed hour I can recall. Despite all the action, there was still time for humor and a lot of real emotion, making the long wait until June and new episodes that much more of a drag.

Whereas last week was so much fun because Jay Karnes played such a compelling and capable villain, this week was exciting because Michael Shanks played such a compelling and capable client. It’s a real shame we’ve seen the last of Victor.

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Adama: “Did you love her, Chief?”
Tyrol: “I thought I did.”
Adama: “Well, when you think you love somebody, you love them. That’s what love is. Thoughts…”
—from “The Farm”

“Sometimes lost is where you need to be. Just because you don’t know your direction doesn’t mean you don’t have one.”
—Slick

So! We’re back on solid ground this week, and I’m feeling both relieved and guilty for having doubted in the first place. What’s so easy to forget—with the impatience and anticipation of watching it all spool out in such fits and starts over so many years—is how well the makers of this thing are able to raise a storm right up out of the quiet every damn time. And in doing so make you doubt your own doubts, or at least question what you would have sworn five minutes ago was true. And then remember that you should never, ever trust the quiet. And to be very careful what you wish for.

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