There are only a few television “events” I can recall my family sitting down, en masse, to watch, but they included the finale of those long running Nescafe ads (which was shown in the middle of Hey, Hey! It’s Saturday!), the Sydney Olympics opening ceremony, that last great Michael Jackson concert, and the finale of Sex And The City.
That was when SATC, one of my favourite television shows of all time, ceased to exist.
Sure, I saw the films, like everybody else; I know they exist. I went with my three close girlfriends and at one point, horrified by the spectacle unfolding on screen, I turned to my pal; she was cowering behind her hands (during the sequence, if I recall, where Samantha throws condoms at some Muslims and yells “YES! I HAVE SEX!!”), and I whispered, “It’s okay, they’re not our real friends.”
James Gandolfini changed television, and us