The Owls Are Not What They Seem

If my not-so-original title isn't ringing any bells, it may be because you never witnessed what can only be described as a genuine cultural aberration. By all indications, normal Americans just weren't quite ready for Laura Palmer's world in that day and age, and yet there it was, and on regular broadcast television no less.

It's still hard to believe that something like this was on American broadcast TV, sharing a network with America's Funniest Home Videos.

An article about the second season of Twin Peaks—now available, it seems, as a set of six DVDs—brought a flood of memories from 1990, which was the year this boldly abnormal television series made its debut. Not that the abnormality of it was surprising. It came, after all, from the mind of David Lynch, creator of twisted epics like Eraserhead and Blue Velvet. The surprise, as the article's author points out, is that such a program aired on broadcast television at all.

I'm not planning to run out and get my boxed set of that second—and final—season because . . . well, because most everything I want to remember about the series occurred during its first year. I have fond memories of characters like the midget who spoke backward, the elusive, demonic character known only as Bob, and of course the unconventional FBI Special Agent Cooper, who seemed perpetually enthralled with the piney fragrance of Twin Peaks' forest setting. For me, that setting was particularly poignant because I had recently moved to a house in the woods, and I began to wonder if there might be evil dudes like Bob lurking among the trees at night. As it turned out, I never did meet anyone like him, nor anyone like Laura Palmer for that matter. Probably just as well on both counts.