I twi-ed hard. I really did. But I just don't get it. I mean, I can hardly avoid it. I am Aunt Mo for goodness sake. And five of the fourteen of them that call me such are girls of that age. The Twilight age. Three of them are actual died-in-the wool, self-professed Twi-hard fans. And that doesn't include my two adult sisters who would also count themselves in that hoard.
I even put a toe in that water last year. One of my nieces wanted me to take her to the midnight opening show of New Moon last November for her thirteenth birthday, on a weeknight. So, being the indulgent aunt that I occasionally am, I sat through the video of the first movie, with all of the obligatory explanations that came from my niece and her sister. (On a side note, I now know what I must sound like when I am trying to convert someone to one of my favorite shows.) Then we were off to the movie theater.
As we waited in the line to be allowed entrance to the seating area, my niece demanded to know if I was on "Team Jacob" or "Team Edward", she being on the later. I said neither. That apparently was not an acceptable answer and I was pressed to choose a team, so I finally said "Team Spike". I was informed that was not a team, And I said "It is in my world, sweetheart." She thought for a moment and said, "Oh, from Chucky, the Vampire Slayer". Through gritted teeth I said, "It's Buffy," and then proceeded to give up three precious hours of sleep I will never get back.
This is what Twilight has done to some of its fans, my niece included. Allow them to confuse a demonically possessed, serial-killing doll, with Buffy!
So I eagerly await this week's episode of Supernatural, appropriately titled, Live free or Twi-Hard. I hope they stake the franchise properly, so I can watch with glee. Until then, I will leave with some of my favorite memories from Team Spike that I found on YouTube.