There’s an old American Civil War folk song called ‘Goober Peas’ which was about a soldier named ‘Goober’, a heroic Southerner who found boiled peanuts or ‘peas’ in the ground which were edible, and so became the life-force of thousands of starving men. The song is a classic, jaunty number which always makes me smile at the idea of the comradeship and the positivity of life in the most terrible of situations. I think about the song quite a lot when watching this show to try and make my life a bit more bearable.
It’s a shame that the War didn’t destroy New York, as that’s what this episode was centred on, with Carrie musing at the start of Autumn. I like Autumn, it’s my second favourite season after the joy of Winter. The crackle of boot upon leaf, the conkers falling delicately from the snapped branches, the wind, the rain, the joyous emotions. Autumn also seems to be about getting into touch with old flames, like Carrie who called Big when she was feeling lonely. Big said he never felt lonely, and Carrie asked if she could come over. I smiled at that, a reminder of the pleasure of going to see the person who makes you feel wonderful.
Bad news for Carrie though, as Big revealed he was moving to California, opening a vineyard. Carrie’s distraught, upset face surprised me – she’s always loved a good whine. Big said that he was tired of New York, and Carrie being the gluttonous creature that she is was somehow shocked at that. I mean, how could anyone get sick of the crowds, the smell and the sluts?
To make things better, Big started playing one of his old love records that his parents used to put on when he was a little lad. I wonder if he was nicknamed ‘small’ as a youngster. I must say, looking at him fondle that old ’45 like a particularly slender cock stirred my loins a little. The song was ‘Moon River’, a moist, enchanting ballad from the opening of ‘Breakfast At Tiffany’s’ which sweeps like a Dickensian cleaner clicking their heels around ye olde London. The images in my head from that one song were delightful – the cold snap and the hustle and bustle of the Big Smoke, hand in hand with the girl you love. A gentle kiss, a tug on a cigarette and that disgusting feeling that all the blissful memories are in your head only.
Samantha was going insane within her own head, as she struggled to come to terms with her love for Richard, and also her relationship with him. She gave him a rather disgusting ‘heart’ clock to symbolise her love for him – which is classic woman. Substituting emotions for toys and trinkets. Her paranoia was getting brutal, with a pleading “if you want out of this just say it!” request to Richard. It’s not easy loving someone for the first time, whether you’re forty-five or nineteen. There is still the same self doubt, the same wrecked nerves – everything you want has finally happened and you’re just not sure what to do about it.
Samantha decided to stalk Richard, which ended disastrously when she caught him eating out some slag. At least it was al fresco, and at least it wasn’t as bad as Charlotte’s date with a guy she met in an art gallery, whom she had only said yes to because she had spied ex husband Trey and his wonderful mum which reminded her of her own misery. The date was a bloody disaster – who wants to talk about love on the first date? You want to talk about favourites, be it films, fizzy drinks of sexual positions. In the end he got freaked out by the size of her apartment, which I suppose is a little bit better than being sickened by the size of her clit.
Steve and Miranda were counting down the days to the birth of their boy by building a cot, and discussing baby names. Miranda wanted ‘Danny’, Steve wanted ‘Paul’. Everyone knows that Danny is a cunts name, and ‘Paul’ is a bit better so really Steve should have gotten the naming rights.
As the rain poured over a dim New York day, Miranda broke into labour – years of being a Tory must have given her that permanent sour scowl. True to her cruel form, she chose Carrie over Steve as her birthing partner, deciding that Steve was ‘too emotional’. I just think she wanted the baby to be very animal friendly, hence choosing horse faced Carrie, a fact I reckon the scriptwriters picked up on, as Carrie was enjoying a romantic horse ride around Central Park with Big when she heard the news.
The baby came, and Steve looked like a glorious gleaming guy, his little baba clapped around his strong manly hands. Miranda decided to call him Brady after Steve’s surname which was a nice touch. I would have been a bit more tearful had I not been aware of the truly terrible mother that Brady would have looking after him in the future. And he was a fucking ginger.
We ended with strong pathos, and quite an emotional touch. Earlier, Carrie had wondered if fate was the thing that brought us all together, and whether ‘goodbye’ really meant goodbye. She paid a final visit to his house and found that he had left her two presents. The first, was the ‘Moon River’ record they had listened to earlier in case she ever got lonely, and the second was an envelope with a plane ticket to California in case HE ever got lonely. It made me a little bit sad truth be told – I’ve always hated goodbyes, but I really love sentimentality which is an odd combination. Maybe you’ve got to lose something to really appreciate that you wanted it all along.