Oy with the poodles already!If you didn't get that last line, don't read this post...
They're gone. I know it was coming, even part of me kind of felt that it was for the best, but here I am, feeling the numbness I usually feel when I just hear the news of somebody else's death. I know that it's childish to feel this way, even a little bit stupid, but I won't hear them talk again.
I guess that's the thing that I most enjoyed about them: their talks. I tend to be attracted to people I can talk to. It's a big plus if they're attractive, but that fades away... on the other hand, a good talk lasts forever... well, not forever apparently: they're gone.
I suspected it since a few months ago. They were not talking as much and as well as they used to. They were some days that they shined a little bit of hope on recovering, but they didn't. We all knew they wouldn't; in the back of our heads, we all knew this was it.
I don't think I can write as great words as others do to express the beauty and charm they impregnated on everybody, but you know I'll try anyway.
I remember her high school graduation, and the beautiful moment in which everybody was starting to cry, but didn't want to. That scene involved so many mixed up noble emotions, that I didn't know if to cry or laugh my heart out... so I did both. Ironically, this mixture was the one that led to very few people understanding them, and crying/laughing with them.
They talk too quickly, it's like a roller-coaster ride. They are doing one joke, and before I finish understanding it, and laughing about it, three other jokes like that have gone through.Like if it were a bad thing...
It's too hard to get, I don't watch TV to think.It hurts just typing it...
But that's the beauty of our girls: with their talks, they didn't just make you think, they made you curious. If you didn't get one cultural reference (or twenty, in my case), you'd look it up just to get the joke... a TV show made you look stuff up, when has that happenned in the last ten years? twenty years? I know that there have been lot of good-quality TV shows out there, and rare as they are, this is definitely one of them.
Despite its not-that-well-done swan song, even a close-to-mild hour like that is still far more entertaining, fullfilling, and satisfying to see than most programs out there. We've all missed Amy's writing, but you got to give it to Rosenthal (and from what I understand, in collaboration with Graham herself): the final scene was marvelously crafted to be very similar to the final scene of the very first episode, which turned out to be a very well-appreciated easter egg for us hardcore fans (or close to)... it made me blubber, I admit.
And so, with a little sober tear in my eye, and more sighs that I can handle, I say adios to my ultimate platonic love, Rory, and her wonderful mother, Lorelai... I hope they find happiness and warmth in the memories that, surely, more than some of us will keep alive...
Lorelai: So, apparently, I'm now the Reigning Lorelai.
Rory: Huh. I guess you are.
Lorelai: It's a lot of responsibility.
Rory: Well, sure.
Lorelai: I mean, it's mostly ceremonial stuff nowadays. Declaring knighthoods, opening supermarkets. But now and then, you get to banish someone or pose for a stamp.
Rory: Neat. And coins.
Lorelai: Yeah, and coins. You know, someday you'll be the Reigning Lorelai.
Rory: I don't like that idea!
Lorelai: Why not? You get a cape.
Rory: Because if I'm the Reigning Lorelai, then that means you'll be gone.
Lorelai: Gone? No, not me. I'll step down way before that. I'm not going to pull a Queen Elizabeth on you, make you wait around forever, force you to develop interests in polo and architecture.
Rory: I am scared of horses.
Lorelai: I know that.
Rory: So there's a cape, huh?