hotTEA of the week: patrick dempsey

“One day my three-year-old daughter said, ‘You’re very handsome, Poppy.’ That was the best compliment ever.” ~ Patrick Dempsey


goodbye (sob), gilmore girls

For the past seven years, I’ve spent Tuesday nights with these people:

gilmore_girls_cast.jpg Gilmore Girls image by mergan_01
Gilmore Girls cast

I think by now they should have adopted me. 

Okay, what about this?  I actually see myself in Stars Hollow, walking around the town square, eating pancakes in Luke’s Diner, attending town hall meetings at Miss Patty’s, going to Friday night dinners at Richard and Emily’s. I could even allow myself to attend Yale. I have so many qualifications that would make me the perfect resident. Among them:

     Sookie and I both have black and white checkered floors in our kitchens.
     Luke and I have the same glass domed pedestal cake dish.
     I am grumpy like Michel.
     I adore the dog, Paul Anka.
     My maiden name was ‘Kim’, just like Lane and her mom.
     I like small towns where people actually know and talk to each other.

What? You’re not convinced or impressed?

It’s hard to explain my fascination with and addiction to this series. Sure, other great series have come and gone, but I’ve never wanted to inhabit them before. (What do you mean, ‘get a life’?)

But guess what? I think I’ve figured it out. It’s all about the writing (isn’t it always)? 

Amy Sherman-Palladino, who created the show and wrote most of the best episodes, is simply brilliant. I read somewhere that she is Lorelai. What a fascinating group of quirky characters she created. Talk about authentic detail. Mother-daughter conflict. Love stories. Enduring friendship. And pure fun! Ms. Sherman-Palladino’s dialogue is always crisp, quick-fire, razor-sharp, snappy, sassy, siss boom bah. It is full of allusion to pop culture, recent history, and society’s ills. In a single spoonful, you might get Boo Radley, Kierkegaard, Norton Critical Edition and Oompa Loompas.

No other television program has influenced my writing before. I’ve always loved wordplay, and wordplay drove the storylines and shaped the characters. The Gilmore Girls was my master class in script writing. Not to mention a thinking person’s guilty pleasure.

Now, here comes the whining:  This fall, I will be lost. I will mourn this fictional (no, it couldn’t be) place. I will wonder how Rory is faring as a journalist, whether Luke and Lorelai get married and have kids, whether Miss Patty finally lassos herself a hunk, and if Babette is still eating oatmeal. And what about Lane, Zack and the twins? How could the show’s producers and the network leave me hanging like this? 

I just don’t know. Now I’m an orphan. Sympathy, please. Fellow mourners, commiserate.