I’ve never been a fan of vampires. Not much of a fantasy girl unless you include fairy tales (The Princess Bride) in that category.
When Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles were the talk of the town, I smiled and read some more realistic fiction. I felt compelled to read Stephanie Meyer’s first Twilight book and while I found the vampires mildly entertaining, nothing drew me to read on in the series.
And of course, there is Buffy.
For so many reasons, I should have given Buffy the Vampire Slayer a shot. My sister loved the television series. Many friends did as well. And the creator of the series, Joss Whedon, was in my graduating college class of 900. Shouldn’t I be supporting my classmates?
But the truth is that in college I made no impact on JW and he made no impact on me. I’m sure we crossed paths in a class or at a party or on Foss Hill, but I really didn’t know anything about him until Buffy became popular and somebody told me that I graduated with him. More proof of my cool factor.
About six weeks ago, I hurt my back. The first few days I was out of commission, I could barely move and could not focus on anything: my work, my family, reading a book, surfing the net. So, I checked out my Amazon Prime Instant Videos and thought maybe I’d find a movie to watch. For free. Those are the best kind of movies. As I scanned the list of free options, I found the Buffy the Vampire Slayer television series among them. Why not? Maybe this will keep my attention.
For two days, I watched Buffy. Show after show. After the first one, I thought, “what’s the big deal?” but I was quickly drawn in. I made it through a season and a half before I had to admit that my attention was back and I could return to real life. With great sadness, I was forced to put Buffy aside.
Over the next few weeks, I managed to slip in an hour of Buffy watching here and there. After the kids went to sleep. During lunch breaks. When I couldn’t sleep at night.
My love of this show surprises me. It doesn’t fit. Rather, it doesn’t seem like it would fit with the types of things that capture my attention. But I love the characters in the show, I’m fascinated by the vampires and other demons, the story lines, while following the same pattern: demons appear and create havoc, Giles does the research, Buffy slays and saves the world, are always interesting and entertaining, and the acting is pretty good. Can’t judge a TV shows by its premise I guess.
Well, lucky me. Pulled the back out again. This time much worse. Steroids, narcotics, lots of ice and lots of crying. But in those moments of quiet, when the pain lessened enough to lie still, I found the only thing I could do was watch TV. I had several more seasons of Buffy waiting for me so I dug in.
I’m almost finished Season Four and I still am in love with this show. I’m not the type to love TV shows either. Not usually. Maybe I’m changing. Maybe Buffy has changed me.
Got a cortisone shot this morning. The pain is less than it’s been in days. Hence, a blog post being written. I still can’t stand much. Walks to the kitchen for a glass of water often end in twenty minutes of cursing at my back, my hip, my leg. But once the pain fades, I can settle in to another episode.
So now I must go. Feeling bad enough to remain on the sofa but good enough to hang with Buffy and the gang.
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