You Mean it Twasn’t Downtown Abbey?
A black shroud drapes our television. No telling how long it will remain. At least a week or so till March Madness cranks up.
For what is there worth watching? Downton Abbey is as quoth the raven . . . nevermore.
* * *
I woke up Monday morning with that dream hangover feeling. Fighting through mental cloudiness of was that real? A cerebral fog usually reserved for mornings after political debates and Gator losses. Then it came clear to me — yes, Downton Abbey is no more.
Trying to interject a positive to my first thoughts of the day, I reminded myself it all turned out so very well.
A boy for the Bates.
A baby on the way for Mary and her mechanic.
Lord Grantham has his puppy and Cora found her legs standing up against Grandmama and championing noble causes.
Isobel got her Duckie — who doesn’t have that pernicious disease after all. Wonder how many people googled pernicious anemia last night?
Tom is making I-could-be-vulnerable-and-find-love-again faces at Edith’s editor.
Carson’s got the palsy but is saved by Barrow. YAY.
Mr. Farmer Man (can’t think of his name right now) is making eyes at Miss Patmore.
Daisy cut her hair that Anna mercifully saved with that new blowdryer contraption and Daisy finally is giving Andy a little opening.
Mr. Molesley got a full time teaching position and is sweet on Baxter. As she is on he.
What else happened?
A used car dealership for Mary’s cute mechanic and will-find-love-again Tom.
Rose is a mummy.
Anything else? Hmm.
EDITH got her Bertie.
So very not women’s libby of me to hurrah Edith’s landed gentry matrimonial goldmine, but this was 1925 and for a woman with a snippy beautiful sister, Edith hit it out of the park.
1925.
The second thing I thought this morning.
They are all so very happy with no knowledge of the future. Those of us with the benefit of having lived in the 21st Century know the effects on Britain of the Great Depression and WWII.
Immediately, I started calculating the age of all the baby boys in 1940.
It says a lot about my emotional investment in a television series when I start my day worrying about what happened 75 years ago and the ramifications on fictional mothers and fictional babies.
First thing I learned when I started watching midway through Season Two was that it’s Downton Abbey not Downtown Abbey.
Last thing I learned. Great writing, great acting, great setting can put me in a small community and make me care a lot.
What are we going to do next January?
I’m betting Downton the movie will be about The WAR.
Thoughts?
