The conclusion of my exhibition of childhood crushes…
The 1990s recall certain special memories for me. Graduate school. Grungy clothes and music and bad haircuts. Living in a sketchy part of Allston, MA (now the semi-gentrified “Allston Village”) in an apartment infested with mice and cockroaches. And my unbridled crush on FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder from “The X-Files.”
Of course, he was never Fox Mulder to me. He was always Mulder, as he was to everyone on the show, especially his partner (and as we later learned, life partner), Scully. Mulder was handsome and brilliant and funny, he was driven to expose the Truth, and he would die for Scully. In fact, I think he did die for her in one episode, and was eventually reanimated.
Also, let’s take a moment to talk about “The X-Files” and what an incredible, landmark show it was (through season seven, at least). As you might know, I love a good crime story, and I love creepy, weird stuff, and this was a show about agents investigating creepy, weird crimes. It was clever, it was irreverent, and it could be dark as hell (for examples of all three, look to my favorite episodes, Season Three’s “Clyde Bruckman’s Final Repose” and Season Four’s “Home,” the latter of which finds a refreshing use for Johnny Mathis music).
So I went a little crazy for Mulder and the show. I still have every TV Guide and Rolling Stone “X-Files” cover issue. I named my cat Scully. My boyfriend at the time and I referred to each other by our surnames, as if we were always in the process of investigating a case. I was at the theater on opening night for the “X-Files” movie, and still have my ticket stubs. I even attempted to watch “Millenium,” the “X-Files'” insufferable spin-off.
Though my crush on Mulder eventually fizzled once he left the show, I did maintain my obsession with all things dark and creepy and weird. And I spent the remainder of the 1990s drawn to guys who reminded me of him — though I soon learned that the real-life combo of handsome and brilliant and funny doesn’t necessarily include (and all too often precludes) nice.
CONTEST UPDATE: The winners of my Mr. Prickles V-Day contest are Karen Giezyng and Madison Stingray. Congrats! I have three more FREE, signed, personalized copies of the book to give away, so here’s the deal — the first three people to email me a list of all six of my Crush Files crushes will win!