I loved it. Identified with it. Bought the soundtrack and made copies for all my friends.
Even so, something about it turned me off.
Every few weeks, my fellow freaks and I gathered in a friend’s living room to marathon-watch taped episodes of Twin Peaks on Betamax. We buzzed over Laura Palmer’s diary and even tossed around the idea of dressing up as the show’s characters for Halloween.
When they tapped me to wrap myself in a plastic drop-cloth, I balked.
Because something about it turned me off.