The Table Setter, Feb. 13, 2024: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Twins Fan's Mind

(Warning: Minor Film Spoilers)

Last August, I watched Charlotte Wells's film Aftersun for the first time. For those unaware, Aftersun (in the simplest sense) is a 2022 coming-of-age drama film about a father (played by the wonderful Paul Mescal) and his (played by the marvelous Frankie Corio) on holiday in Turkey in the late '90s. Mescal's character lives a significant distance away from his daughter, and the vacation is one of the few times they will see each other all year. I won't spoil the plot any further, but no film has ever explored memory, depression, and the relationship between a parent and their child the way Aftersun has, making it the most gut-wrenching film I've seen. This particular out-of-context scene still tears me apart:

Before Aftersun, the film that previously held the title of "the saddest film Cody's ever seen" was Charlie Kaufman and Michael Gondry's Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The film follows Clementine (Kate Winslet) as she undergoes a procedure to erase memories of her ex-boyfriend Joel (Jim Carrey) from her mind. Joel finds out Clementine underwent the procedure and decides to undergo it himself, in an act of spite and anger. The film then slowly dissolves into a tale of (once again) memories, love, and yearning for what was and what could have been. This other particular out-of-context scene tore me apart:

For some reason, movies that explore memory through an artistic lens strike a deep chord with me. I would say it's a quarter-life crisis, but I've always been like this. I can't pinpoint it, but I think it's because I can't process the constant change around me, so I hold on to what was. But even those memories become fragmented as I slowly drift away from the moment that actually was. It's hard to confront these realities, but films like Aftersun and Eternal Sunshine make me face them head-on, which I think is healthy. 

What isn't healthy is that I've closely followed the Twins since 2017, the season Ervin Santana pitched like an ace, and they got blown out in a Wild Card Game at Yankee Stadium. Since then, I have experienced much heartbreak, but no singular moment in Twins history has affected me as profoundly as what occurred in the 10th inning of a game against the Athletics in Oakland, California, on April 21, 2021. The moment makes me so upset I can't talk about it, so here's a video:

Often, people uncover old wounds in the name of expurgating repressed negative emotions, but there is a specific reason why I am mentioning this game. Hypothetically, if I could undergo the same procedure Clementine and Joel underwent in Eternal Sunshine to erase one Twins-centric memory from my mind, it would be this game and, more specifically, this moment. 

I hadn't been this angry about a sporting event since Nick Foles and the Philadelphia Eagles picked apart the Vikings in the 2017 NFC Championship Game. I don't know what it was, but watching Luis Arráez soar the ball over Willians Astudillo's head brought all of the repressed anger, fear, and anxiety from the pandemic (that was still going on, mind you) to a head, causing me to have a meltdown. Weirdly, my response was to drive to the nearest Wendy's and order a Baconator with fries, a Sprite, and ketchup packets. [Ed. note: This doesn't seem all that weird to me; it's called self-destruction, and it's the American way.] I ate the Baconator silently while trying to calm myself down as I sat in a mostly deserted parking lot in Onalaska, Wisconsin. I thought solitude would come in the form of a Wendy's Baconator, which is weird because it's like my third- or fourth-favorite fast food burger.

People often say time heals all wounds, but it doesn't. It can work as a Band-Aid, yes, but it doesn't heal. Sadly, we don't have the privilege of undergoing surgery that rescues us from our most stinging wounds, particularly those caused by the Twins. The closest thing we have in benevolent capitalist withholding of the unkillable blackouts, saving some of us from experiencing those nightmares in the first place.

If we could perform those deletions, though, would you? If so, which Twins-centric memory would you have removed from your memory bank? Join the discussion and comment below.