Of course, like millions of people I had watched Twin Peaks many times, but I always failed to see Special Agent Dale Cooper for who he really was, until Michelle showed me.

It was a cold  December night, and like the 40 people that showed up to watch Michelle speak that night, I was huddled in the unheated warehouse, captivated by the glowing beam of the video projector.

I don’t exactly remember what she said, or did, for the most part she gave a performative lecture about her quest for Special Agent Dale Cooper. It was all ernest and sweet and funny and touching in a way only Michelle can be ernest and sweet and funny and touching.

What I do remember, is that at one point, in the hypnotic light, time stopped. I remember a sweet, tangy familiar taste in my mouth, like a comforting treat on misty fall day, and suddenly, Special Agent Dale Cooper appeared to me. He stared deep inside of me. His mouth stayed still, but there was a kind smile in his eyes. The whole experience couldn’t have lasted longer than a second, but that second contained eternities. And just as suddenly, Special Agent Dale Cooper was gone. I looked down at my lap, where a paper plate stood empty, except for a few crumbs of crust and a smudge of cherry filling.

That night, I experienced communion, with a slice of cherry pie.

Jean Barberis,
NYC