Two weeks ago, I got to work ten minutes late and my phone was ringing before I even had my coat off. The ID screen flashed "Will Dana," managing editor of Rolling Stone. "Come down here," Will said. "We have to talk."

"Oh shit, I’ve fucked something up again," was the first thing that naturally came to mind. But I grabbed my coffee and walked down the hall. Will was seated in his office going over galleys. When he saw me, he flung down the pages and said, "Explain to me what the fuck happened on The Wire last night. Who’s the kid that shot Omar?"

I should have known.

To paraphrase sleazebag lawyer Maury Levy in last night's finale, Will Dana has become part of The Wire’s "mishpuka" — the family of obsessive fans who parse every angle of David Simon's brilliant show.

Rolling Stone's managing editor had caught The Wire virus late (season four) and he has never caught up with the first three seasons, so for the last two years it has often fallen on me to fill him in on all the intricate plot details that he often misses because of his refusal to go back. (By the way, season three is my personal favorite, but sheeet I love 'em all.)

As great as the last episode was, saying goodbye to the show sucked. Why stop? There’s so much more to say about Baltimore and any number of these characters. And when HBO announced that after The Wire we could stay tuned to the season finale of Russell Simmons presents Def Comedy Jam, a nation's television sets went dark. I'm sure of it.

Still, it's somehow fitting that the day after The Wire retires, the Governor of New York is busted in a prostitution ring by getting caught on a wiretap. Seriously, you can't make this shit up.