My littles and I have this routine in the morning. It used to be PBS cartoons before preschool drop-off, and later it was Good Luck Charlie before grade school. But now, suddenly, five minutes later, we’re watching Gilmore Girls before the middle school bus arrives.
It started back in October, because every woman I know on social media was posting about the “not to be missed” Gilmore Girls reunion episodes that would be released on Netflix in November. I had never seen the Gilmore Girls, wasn’t terribly interested, and don’t really have a time slot in my schedule marked, “Binge watch tv.” (which, understandably, you don’t believe, based on the topics of my last two blog posts)
But then November came along and…well, you are all familiar with the nightmare-inducing, God-less circus act that went down. One day, post-apocalypse, I went looking for something to distract me that did not involve social media in any way. Gilmore Girls to the rescue.
Hank and Bear joined me around episode 3 and soon it became our morning routine. In between John and TP leaving and the middle school bus arriving, the three of us take a short trip to Stars Hollow, where literary references, light-hearted drama and coffee all flow freely.
I’m not a coffee drinker, but even I can appreciate Lorelai Gilmore’s extreme addiction issue. It’s just one of many aspects of hyperbole her character offers up. Lorelai is obviously my favorite character, and not just because I wish I could rattle off one-line quips as quickly as she does from a memorized script. I can appreciate Rory, too, although I could never be friends with someone that naive and uptight in real life. I would have SO run off with Jess to California faster than Rory could straighten her Chilton knee socks.
Luke, well, he’s growing on me. At first I thought the girls should just look for another coffee shop, preferably one Taylor could not find. But now that we’re around season 5… there’s just something about a man who can appreciate a non-stop talking, handful of a woman like Lorelai. Not that I’d know anything about that.
I could go on and on about the townspeople of Stars Hollow (take Sookie for instance, who I adore, and not just because she’s played by Melissa McCarthy). In Stars Hollow, every day is sunny and full of promise.No one has to explain to their children why a world leader is making fun of disabled people or trying to deport their friends’ parents. No one’s cat repeatedly throws up on the carpet, and no one ever has to pack a cooler in the trunk because the only chance they have to stop at the grocery is between work and ballet drop off. In Stars Hollow, there is a perfect-weather, twinkle-light laden outdoor festival every weekend. But that’s not the point of this essay.
Six years. That’s the point. I’m currently stuck in this world where every day is filled with working and driving and planning meals and driving and volunteering and driving and reminding middle schoolers to take showers and driving. Aside from dreaming about opening an Uber service that caters to preteens, I sometimes fantasize about the day that me and my lover (yes, John) can run off into a California sunset together. And then I realized that day is only six years away.
Suddenly every two hour round trip journey to pick up my kid from high school seems like a gift. Every time I have to decide on a new way to make chicken for dinner exciting seems like an opportunity. And every morning, when I still get to snuggle on the couch with my two Littles and speculate aloud “where in Stars Hollow might Kirk be working in this episode?”–well it’s pure magic. Magic that will end when we finally reach the end of season 7. Magic that will end when my kids grow up and move away.
So for now, at least, I’m holding out in Stars Hollow.
*Side note: at least I’ll know where to find my Littles in 6 years. Thanks to Rory, they both are positive they’ll be going to Yale. Because, you know, that’s how we roll in Stars Hollow.