Why does our youth persist so vividly in our minds? Is it that our first impressions in life are at the root of a gray tissue hierarchy? You must have many yourselves. Here is one of mine.
I was very young, no more than 1 ½ or two, walking but still a blank slate yielding to indelible new markings of life’s new experiences. My mom took me up the hill to our friends’ house, where they had set up a small doughboy pool in their backyard. I was outfitted in a tiny bathing suit and placed in the center of a ring-shaped inflatable toy, then into the pool. The experience sticks out in my mind like the first time I opened my eyes.
The imagery was stunningly beautiful. The day was bright and sunny but blustery (always so at the top of the hill). The contrast of the gorgeous aqua lapping water nearly made my eyes ache. I was transfixed by the fluttering aurora of wave lights on the inside of the pool walls, within touching distance of my tiny hands. Yet with all this beauty, something was wrong. I was freezing. So much beauty yet so much pain. I wanted to cherish the moment, yet I desperately wanted out too.
This revival of BSG is a new memory for me, and so important. Like the pool of my youth thoughts and imagery flutter on the sides of a memory doughboy, all inside my mind. Certainly this new incarnation of Battlestar Galactica will have some beauty. CGI has come so far. Yet I feel so cold and wonder why. Perhaps it is simply the lack of warmth in the characters I remember so fondly. Or the loss of so many things I cherish deep inside.
Beauty is a wonderful thing, yet stark beauty without warmth stings like something very cold. In this case, the fire is in the memory-filled hearts of the fans, and we are what is missing.
Beauty should not chill the body, but warm the soul.
Affectionately and respectfully,
Muffit
Beauty, Warmth and BSG
to deliver these 
