Weird week and I didn’t even get to thumbs-up Special Agent Dale Cooper yet. Some filming for the Twin Peaks reboot was rumored to be happening at the Grand Prospect Hall here in Brooklyn, around the corner from where I type and stuff. It’s cool. I didn’t walk four blocks out of my way to the subway on 90+ degree days just to see a tight-lipped crew and equipment and a trailer.
are they doing this to me did the street post say “Twin Peaks” and yet the Mayor’s Office says the project is unrelated? Are they trying to avoid a throbbing blob of hovering Twin Peaks pilgrims? I think so. Is Special Agent Dale Cooper for some reason trapped in Park Slope pickling asparagus, perhaps keeping bees on his roof and maybe those bees keep him updated on the well being of Washington’s majestic trees and how the diner’s pie is tasting until some interference, likely extraterrestrial, chimes in that he must dust off his tux and go party?
Plus today my boyfriend spotted either Kyle MacLachlan or his dapper doppelganger at the West 4th Street station.
This doesn’t mean Cooper hasn’t been up in Washington’s mountains, sipping coffee and watching owls all these years – most of the project is set to shoot in Washington state. It simply means there’s still hope in my heart of maybe doing the sidewalk dance with David Lynch and running away with Special Agent Dale Cooper. Boyfriend’s cool with it.
The production company shooting the “Twin Peaks” project here is Imperial Woodpecker. We spotted another Imperial Woodpecker shoot today in Manhattan around 6th Ave and maybe 26th Street (Brain baked = it was too hot to remember). The project being shot was crossed out so we couldn’t make out the two Twin Peaks-length words underneath.
It must be THE Twin Peaks shooting. Here right now! And I am so happy.
Do you know what this means? For me, it means it’s probably about time to make a pie and watch the very last episode of season two. I’ve seen every episode of the first season half a dozen times. The second season I don’t love, but I watch it sometimes. All but the final episode. The series ended in 1991, but as long as I don’t watch that last episode it hasn’t really ended. To do it right, I should probably start from the very beginning and dress for the part in case Log Lady needs an understudy.
Last year I was the world’s sorriest Log Lady for Halloween as I was unable to procure a log in Brooklyn. Not this year. A week ago I found the perfect log in the Catskills, where I also saw an owl. No Red Room, though.