Twin Peaks was my Morrissey, it was my Oasis. As a latent teen in the south of England who thought acid house was a new kind of abattoir, The Stone Roses and their like passed me by. I was growing up fast and needed a bad influence to encourage me to be moody and take hallucinogenic drugs. When it came, it permeated me like no other. Manchester had Bez, but I had Bob.
This coming Thursday, Vega will welcome many such devotees, intrigued to see what their Twin Peaks theme night will consist of. Many will dress up, others won’t but claim they’ve come as Leo (especially if they’re sitting down), and some might even come in character, after slaying a teenage girl and dumping her body on the beach in a plastic sheet.
Whatever they do, they’ll do it with style and without reason. For at the essence of Twin Peaks was its postmodernism. The net is awash with graveyard Q & A sites, where every other answer is: “Nobody knows! Not even David Lynch!”
And even when there’s an answer, it’s incredulous. Like the population. On the sign it says 51,201, but apparently this was a late addition by a network executive fearful that urban audiences would switch off during the opening credits. Its real population is 5,120 – a typo it was later claimed.
The theme evening would do well to consult the owner of The Log Lady café in the city centre. Her homage to the series aims to capture its atmosphere, not give every visitor a visual journey through all 30 episodes. It’s tastefully done and the ideal place to start my own little homage.
I’ll probably need to wrap up warm, though. With 6cm of snow expected on Saturday, and minus temperatures all next week, we could be in for a white December, let alone Christmas. And this issue is again accordingly festive with a guide to the best places to buy decorations, three Christmas pub quizzes, numerous markets, a heads-up on this year’s panto and a recipe for festive turkey that doesn’t involve you having to roast the thing for five hours.
The cast of Twin Peaks sang a version of ‘The 12 Days of Christmas’ once. Bob sings the “three possessed souls” verse. Don’t ask me why: “Nobody knows! Not even David Lynch!”.
