I KNOW THAT professing my love for Gilmore Girls is a bit like saying that I just went to a really super scrapbooking workshop. It's just not something straight adult males are supposed to say. I mean, the show has a Carole King theme song, for God's sake. Sally Struthers plays a recurring character. Doesn't matter. I love it, and you should, too.
I first tried Gilmore Girls a year ago, late at night, my wife asleep, The Daily Show over. I faced the dregs of her TiVo selections, and Gilmore Girls looked slightly more promising than Big Brother .
I was smitten from the first moment—or at least from the first moment after the Carole King theme song. The show, about a single mom, Lorelai, and her daughter, Rory (both of whom, incidentally, are quite hot), takes place in a small Connecticut town, a quirky Northern Exposure –like village free from homelessness and cops searching bags in the subway. The dialogue is clever, clipped, allusion-heavy—Billy Wilder meets Us Weekly .
And the characters speak fast, really fast, like FedEx-commercial-from-the-'80s fast. You have to pay attention; this is no time to work on your scrapbook, ... // 70% Remaining
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