Ben McKenzie, left, and Adam Brody filmed an episode of "The O.C." at the Hard Rock Hotel in the spring of 2004. The Killers performed on an episode of "The O.C." that aired Dec. 2, 2004. The once white-hot teen drama began running out of steam soon after.

When it debuted Aug. 5, 2003, "The O.C." seemed as though it would outlive us all.

In the end, it barely outlived "Reba."

The series spawned magazine covers, soundtracks and countless teen crushes. An Orange County, Calif., official even proposed changing the name of John Wayne Airport to The O.C. Airport.

But less than four years later, "The O.C." will stagger off forever Thursday (9 p.m., KVVU-TV, Channel 5) with less than half its initial ratings.

It was a ride as wild and unpredictable as co-star Peter Gallagher's eyebrows.

As ridiculous as the premise sounds -- kid from the wrong side of the tracks is taken in by a wealthy family -- it never seemed as easy as it did in "Diff'rent Strokes" and "Webster." It wasn't until the end of episode three that juvenile delinquent Ryan Atwood (Ben McKenzie) was officially welcomed into his public defender's (Gallagher) McMansion in the ultra-chic community of Newport Beach.

The series initially focused on Ryan and his brushes with the law that became as common as his leather jacket, hoodie and wife beater. A typical episode: Someone threw a party, Ryan threw a punch.

But there was something more interesting going on in the background. As Seth Cohen, Ryan's comics-buying, Death Cab for Cutie-loving, plastic horse named Captain Oats-owning adoptive brother, Adam Brody often seemed like he was acting in a smarter, more ironic series. What he was doing was so eccentric that when the cast first met the press, the only thing Brody was asked was whether Seth was retarded. But "The O.C." really hit its stride once it handed him the keys.

In the spring of 2004, at the height of its popularity, the series took over the Hard Rock Hotel for one of its most memorable episodes, one that all-too-briefly had people referring to the city as The Vegas.

Millions of impressionable young viewers were treated to the almost fetishized shots of the casino floor, the pool and the bowling alley penthouse, all of which prompted Seth's glowing praise: "I love the hotel. I wanna marry the hotel and have little gambling-addicted, alcoholic kids with it."

The series had other ties to The Vegas. Or, at least, The Southern Nevada. Logandale native and former Las Vegan Amanda Righetti had a recurring role as Seth's aunt, Hailey. Henderson's Kevin Sorbo recently turned up in several episodes as Ryan's ex-convict dad. And the Killers stopped by for a concert -- and one of their first national TV appearances -- back when they were still fun and European.

As it nears its end, though, part of "The O.C.'s" undoing was what made it great.

The series burned through plot devices at a staggering pace. Crises that could propel a typical drama for an episode or two could be dispatched before the first commercial break. That ADHD attitude made it must-see television in the beginning, but "The O.C." began running out of steam in the second season.

Creator Josh Schwartz, who at 26 was believed to be the youngest person ever to run a network series, became less involved. Stories were being written for the sake of ratings, as Fox had moved the white-hot drama to a brutal Thursday time slot to get a piece of that night's lucrative movie advertising. "The O.C." never recovered from either decision.

By the end of season three, Ryan's girlfriend Marissa (Mischa Barton) had made so many questionable decisions involving guys, girls, alcohol and drugs, she'd become used up. Producers were left with two options: kill her or make her Miss USA.

Once it buried Marissa, "The O.C." tried to reinvent itself, and it put up a good fight. In one of this season's best bits, Summer's (Rachel Bilson) father, a doctor, left town. As a dig at the bizarre plots favored by the series that was crushing it in the ratings, he took a job at a very "Grey's Anatomy"-like hospital in Seattle. "I've gotta go," he said at one point. "There's a man who's been impaled by what appears to be a unicorn."

But the damage was already done.

Schwartz has since moved on -- he's working on "Gossip Girl," based on the series of teen books, and "Chuck," an action comedy about young spies, for next season.

Now fans will have to move on as well.

But until something new comes along to fill that ironic-teen-show-that's-just-as-much-for-adults void, daily reruns of "The O.C." begin April 9 on SOAPnet.

Like its once-hip theme song says, "California here we come, right back where we started from."

Christopher Lawrence's Life on the Couch column appears on Mondays. E-mail him at clawrence@ reviewjournal.com.