Gilmore Girls Gone Bile
Let me tell you a little story about my girls. I have hideous taste in two things (no, not clothes, you haters!): Candy and television. So I was proud to say that I believe I "discovered" Gilmore Girls. I realize that since other Americans were watching it and the WB wasn't making episode after episode just for me, I didn't exactly "discover" it. But I was watching long before anyone in my circle of friends was watching.
It had crackling, razor-sharp dialogue with lots of obscure pop culture references thrown in. It had lots of quirky, nutty -yet lovable - characters. Even the creepy guy, Kirk, wasn't creepy-scary. Most of the time.
And then, the WB and UPN "merged" ("collided in a nasty, chaotic, blood-letting explosion" is more like it) and the WB let Amy Sherman-Palladino and her husband get away and now we have this schlock: Some sort of demented completely uninteresting combo of Melrose Place, Desperate Housewives and . . . I don't know . . . Newhart, the second version? There's an inn, there's a small town with a quirky, nutty - yet lovable - bunch of characters.
And worst of all, there's Christopher. There's something about him that's so . . . annoying. Maybe it's because he's too . . . Connecticut squeaky-clean compared to Luke (who Lorelai should really be with), I'm not sure, but gob do I want to watch his blue-blood, self-absorbed, whiny, clean cut head wander out of Star's Hollow forever!!! But alas, now (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! If you didn't see GG last night and you're saving it on TiVo, stop reading now!! I mean it! NOW! Okay, don't say I didn't warn you!!) Lorelai married the spineless, namby-pamby boy-child and wait . . . what's that sound I hear? Ah, yes. It's the sound of Gilmore Girls being flushed down the toilet. Sad, so sad. Wait - there's another sound . . . it's . . . the sound of dozens of readers screaming at me to get my own life and stop being so over-invested in pretend TV people's lives. Well, you know, when you only watch one show that you're not COMPLETELY embarrassed to be watching, these things matter. Even if they only matter to you. I mean me.
And I never would have expected this from a show with such fabulous lines about Rory's signature drink ("The Rory" of course) that Luke says tastes like "My Pretty Pony."
All good things must come to an end, I suppose. But I also hope that the person who let Amy-Sherman Palladino walk away gets so fucking fired.