YOU’RE THINKING I’LL PLUNGE INTO A VALENTINE’S DAY TALE

Sorry, but no. I um, well – I don’t care for Valentine’s Day. But I do love “Moonlighting.”

You know, “Moonlighting.” Late eighties? Bruce Willis? “Moonlighting!” I now know “Moonlighting” played a significant role in my choice of husband.

Although it began streaming in October, it was January before I could commit to a “Moonlighting” rewatch because, well, I had to finish “The Crown.” A girl must prioritize. I mean, please. It’s not that I think “The Crown” is more important than “Moonlighting.”
It’s just harder to avoid discussions on how – or, more accurately, what year – “The Crown” ends.

But we all know how “Moonlighting” ended – a sunken heap of glory, dragged down by infighting, a writer’s strike, and the strain of its own brilliance. A bit like the Titanic, right? A phenomenon sunk by its own greatness – and outside forces thrown in for good measure.

As I watched the pilot episode on a snowy Saturday, curled up in a blanket with a piping cup of tea and my snoring beagle, I was struck by Bruce Willis.

Dark hair, blue eyes, wit so dry the Sahara is envious.
And I suddenly recalled my junior high crush on him. I was going to marry that Bruce Willis someday. Even when Demi came along.

I mean, I had everything Demi didn’t – Farrah Fawcett wings a decade too late, braces, acne. I was fourth chair clarinet and failing algebra. Top that, Demi.

Bruce and I would have ten kids and live on a farm and we’d name our oldest son Sodapop Curtis after Rob Lowe’s character in “The Outsiders.” It was possible.

Watching “Moonlighting” – the sly glint in Bruce Willis’ eye, hearing his glib verbosity, tapping my foot each time he broke into song – that crush came back hard and fast.

Now, my husband has never crooned “Do Wah Diddy Diddy” as I strutted around in pumps, although he did ask me once if I’d been shot in the leg as I did my best saunter in four-inch heels. Turns out my best four-inch heels saunter is also my worst four-inch heels saunter.
And he was so quiet on our first date, my own notorious chatter ran dry. But my husband does have Bruce Willis’ dark hair and blue eyes. Although that’s just a perk.

Had he never caught on with just a look, early in our dating life, that I was pranking my new downstairs neighbors, and played along as smoothly as Al Jarreau sings, well – that dark hair, those blue eyes – they would have gone to waste.

Now, the nostalgia of “Moonlighting” should not be overshadowed by my Bruce Willis crush. The popped collars, the pale pink décor, the outsized enamel jewelry – I might just bring back my Farrah Fawcett wings.

Yahoo Entertainment says now that “Moonlighting” has overcome the barriers to streaming, other shows might follow suit. “LA Law.” “Thirtysomething.”

I might celebrate Valentine’s Day after all. And I know just the guy to celebrate it with.

Contact Wendi on Instagram @wendirank