Thursday, May 28, 2009

Cooper v. Lodge

He finally did it. He finally chose. Archie Andrews, America's oldest teenager, lovelorn and nostalgically coiffed, has finally taken a bride. I AM SO BUMMED. Granted, this is some post-college Archie with whom I have no truck, but still. Archie? Married? Might as well speak of liver and tube sock pie. The mind boggles.

Look, I wasn't holding out for Archie. I know he's flaky - he's always booking dates with two girls on the same night, his jalopy is constantly in repair, and his bowtie is deeply, deeply uncool. I was always more of a Jughead girl myself. How can I resist that charming chapeau and those perennially closed eyed? But Archie Andrews is what holds the Riverdale of my youth together, and if his constant battle with his own affections (rich vixen or girl-next-door? Glam goddess or girl mechanic? Blonde or brunette? How can he choose?) has come to an end, well, then....what happens next?

I grew up with Archie and the gang, courtesy of an uncle who would drop of stacks of back issues to my childhood cottage. My brother practically learned how to read on them, and my sister and I, to this day, will go to our parents' house and find stacks of mid-1980s Archie comics. Much of my slang comes from Archie's world - stupid people are dimbulbs and crazy folks are loony. Embarassingly, my fashion sense also comes from vintage Betty and Veronica, especially my fascination with insane bathing suit designs that I suspect comes from some anonymous penciller's non-PG-13 sex dream.

So Archie, moronic anti-drug spokesman and erstwhile Christian, has finalized his special-lady plans. As far as I'm concerned, this is a total stunt, like that time Superman died. They can't take the delicious debate away from future generations: when Cher Horowitz refered to her girlfriends as "total Betties," that was a compliment! God! The timeless showdown: one man...torn between two friends...classic. It's a soap opera! According to the pop psycologists over at the Globe, my disappointment in Monsieur Andrew's decision points to my belief that, even though she's a bit of a pushover, Betty's sweetness should win out over Veronica's cash money. Clearly, in today's economy, this is a mite sentimental.

In any case, it's the end of an era. I found out this morning, when my sister called me - early! - to ask breathlessly if I can heard the bad news. (Hilarious.) From the tone of her voice, I wondered if someone had died. I know was only my childhood. Sniff.

1 comment:

  1. You know Kaitlyn, I have to say that I disagree with your stance on Archie's bowtie.