It’s been our Summer of Galactica. Not the cheesy but fun late ‘70s show, but the gritty, intense 2004 re-imagining.
We watched a miniseries and four seasons in less than three months. Nights were spent with popcorn in front of the TV, then often stunned silence at episode’s end.
We flew with Apollo and Starbuck, admired the integrity of Adama, Helo and Tyrol, and spent a season or two annoyed with Laura. One of us had some serious lust for Gaius Baltar—Six too! And there was Dean…
But it’s all over now. No more BSG. And I feel lost.