Sunday Night Blues...
Most everyone understands the Sunday night blues. The
weekend is over; thoughts of Monday morning fill your head. Maybe it's
back to school; maybe it's back to work. There's that disquieting sense
of something...not doom or depression...but something. Perhaps there is a
sad resolution as the minutes pass on Sunday night.
We had both watched the series when it originally aired (over 25 years ago) on network tv. I hadn't lasted long, but my husband was a devoted fan, recording all the episodes and purchasing the "prequel" movie, Fire Walk With Me" on laser disc. (Yes, he had a laser disc player!) When we first moved in together, we didn't have cable and we ended up watching the series (for the most part) together. I watched Fire Walk With Me one dark and stormy Friday (?) afternoon/evening. If you want to be completely freaked out, watch it alone in a dark room! Even though it was 20+ years ago I can still remember sitting on the floor and watching, glass of wine, not coffee in hand.
When the news came out that there was going to be a season 3, over 20 years AFTER the 2nd season had ended, hubby geeked out. I DIDN'T geek out quite so much, but I was excited. He bought us Twin Peaks mugs. His said Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department; mine said RR Diner. He still wants a Great Northern key tag (room 315) while I am itching for a Log Lady Pop! Figurine (which are currently sold out).
We both prepped by watching the original series again. (Though not always together as our schedules did not allow it.) As the premiere of the third season drew closer, I was watching 2 or 3 episodes in the evening and capped everything off by watching a fan edit of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me – Teresa Banks, and the Last Days of Laura Palmer.
Sunday night, May 21st, we told our son he was on his own upstairs. It was up to him shower and get himself to bed. (He could have come downstairs if he wanted; he didn't.) Hubby made coffee; I got out the cherry pies. For two hours we were spell bound. And for an hour or so after we were still awake talking, questioning, pondering.
Week by week we watched. And rewatched! (I usually watched each episode three times before the next episode aired.) Monday mornings were hard! I'm an early morning riser. Showtime aired episodes starting at 9 and I needed at LEAST an hour after the episode ended to "settle down" before I could even try to sleep. So I was happy when the show moved to the 8 o'clock slot.
I was also happy that the show took a week "off" during the July 4th holiday weekend. There was no way in hell I would have gotten my husband to the shore if it was on. And in some way, I am also happy that Labor Day weekend was rainy. (But not completely happy.) That meant I didn't go to the shore and I DID stay home and watch the two part finale as it aired.
For 16 Sundays, I had a standing date with my husband and my tv. (How cool was it that we got a new 50" during those 16 weeks so I could really see every detail? When it comes to David Lynch, you need to see and hear every detail.) I reconnected with "old favorites" like Gordon, Hawk and the Log Lady. Found a new love for some characters like Bobby, Shelly, and Albert (a character I HATED in the initial run). I fell in love with new characters like Jade, Constance, Miriam, Maggie, Janey-E (four diverse but incredibly strong women!), Sonny Jim, Bushnell Mullins and the Mitchum Brothers. I found new characters to hate/despise (and in some way LOVED them too) like Chad, Chantel, Hutch and Renzo. And of course there were characters that I confused the heck of out me like Diane, Cooper, Sarah, Audrey, Jerry and Carrie (or was it Laura?). I laughed (and there were so many wonderful laugh out loud moments), shuddered, screamed and cried. I spent countless hours analyzing, but also let myself sit back and enjoy the ride. Because the show was a ride. Up and down; slowly, slowly building and then barreling ahead at breakneck speed.
The show had
such a hold on me that I looked FORWARD to Sunday night! Who looks
forward to Sunday night? When was the last time you couldn't sleep after
watching something? Or couldn't wait to discuss a minute detail that you KNEW
had some special significance?
But now it's
the Sunday after. A Sunday with nothing to look forward to. It will
be a Sunday evening where my brain will not be zapped and my whole being will
not be abuzz.
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