'You Never Know How It's All Gonna Turn Out, That's OK'

We live in a Gilmore Girls world, one where we don't have to rely on cable-TV marathons, the stacks of DVD sets in our cupboards or a Netflix binge session to get our fill of Lorelei and Rory's quips and adventures. Thanks to Netflix, Amy Sherman-Palladino and Daniel Palladino, and Warner Bros. Television (plus the millions of eyeballs that have eagerly devoured season after season of the original show for the past decade), we have four new episodes of the beloved show to enjoy.

I've only made it through one complete viewing but know I have so many more in my future. There are jokes to memorize, Easter eggs to discover, tears to re-shed. One thing I won't be doing, though, is railing against the show and its creators for ruining whatever feelings I had toward the Gilmores, their loved ones and friends with these new episodes.

I promise not to spoil anything for anyone who hasn’t caught up yet, so will stick to what's already been shared in trailers and decried in a multitude of other essays—Rory's life isn't perfect when we catch back up with her. While there are some who are disappointed, let down or infuriated by this (and you can easily find their pieces all across the internet), I actually appreciated that Rory's life at 32 isn't beautifully sorted, that she's having a hard time coming to grips with who and what she's supposed to be.

When this revival was announced, I thought about where Rory would be nine years after we last saw her. She'd gotten a job covering the first Obama presidential campaign for a news website. Would that lead to a job in the press corps after his election? From there, would she get a job at the New York Times? CNN? NPR?

I think there are some Gilmore fans who were expecting to find Rory on the staff of a globally esteemed new organization. After all, she was the Chilton valedictorian, editor of the Yale Daily News, idolized Christiane Amanpour, read 339 books over the course of the original show's run, and, most importantly, was Rory Gilmore, so of course she would be on the fast track to somewhere grand.

Except, that’s now how it works anymore. It probably never worked that way. Being the top student at Stars Hollow High didn't guarantee Rory the top spot at Chilton. Being the student editor at Yale didn't guarantee her the fellowship she wanted. Websites fold, media organizations get bought out, writers get laid off. Good staff jobs are hard to find and even harder to keep. As someone who's worked in publishing for nearly two decades, I know.

While watching these new episodes, I thought about what it is that's made Gilmore Girls stick with me so strongly for so long. The show is quirky and magical. The dialog is fantastic and made to be quoted. What stood out the most, though, was the show's honesty. It let its main characters be unlikable and make terrible decisions, and then deal with the consequences. It also dealt with the difference between who you were supposed to be and who you actually are.

Lorelei was supposed to be a debutante, an Ivy League grad, Mrs. Christopher Hayden. That she wasn't, that she took a left turn, that she made a completely unexpected life for herself made her story so much more interesting. Paris doesn't get into Harvard. Lane doesn't marry a Seventh Day Adventist doctor or become a rock star. Christopher and Logan don't grow up.

In the updated version of "Where You Lead" Carole King and daughter Louise Goffin recorded for the show's theme, the pair sing, "You never know how it's all gonna turn out, that's OK/Just as long as we're together, we can find a way." Buoyed by our past experiences, guided by our trusted advisors, and supported by our loved ones, we do find a way when life doesn't turn out the way we'd hoped or planned. Though they could have made her meet or exceed our highest expectations, I appreciate that the Palladinos have Rory walking the same rough road as the rest of us.

Look How All the Kids Have Grown

It’s been ages since I last posted here, but if you’ve read any of my stories in the past, you know that I’m passionate about the arts and pop culture. In a college dance class, our instructor talked about the importance of non-dancers taking dance classes and developing an appreciation for the arts because we’re the ones who are going to support the arts, we’re the ones who are going to buy the tickets and donate to the companies and keep the whole thing going. That really impacted me.

I’m not a singer, can’t play an instrument and will not be center stage any time soon. Realizing those limitations, yet still fully embracing my love of the performing and visual arts, I’ve dedicated myself to passionately supporting the performers and performances that have touched and shaped my life. Even though I don’t completely buy in to the High Fidelity theory that what you like is more important than what you’re like, I do believe that what you like does contribute to who you are as a person.

Who I am is a person who will cry at live performances, joyfully overwhelmed by the music, the story, the sets, the everything, and what it all means to me. This is exactly what happened Saturday night when I took my nine-year-old niece to see Gwen Stefani, my feelings for my girl and my girl all intermingling and reducing me to an overly sentimental mess.

Gwen and No Doubt hit at the perfect time in my life. I was a college freshman in Orange County, hearing whispers about this local band that just might make good. The band did, more so than anyone could have imagined, and my generation had another girl to emulate and admire (and that was such an incredible time for admiration-worthy females). Though I could never pull off her crop tops and bleached locks, I was drawn to Gwen for her energy and sincerity. She gave us her all on CD and on stage, and I ate it up (and still do).

With No Doubt and as a solo artist, Gwen has used her music to work through her life’s challenges and triumphs—falling in love, getting her heart broken, growing older, finding success, fearing failure. Not that it’s all so serious, like all of my favorite artists, Gwen has managed to mix the light and the dark, the fluffy and the stark. She’s given us “Rich Girl” and “Don’t Speak,” “Simple Kind of Life” and “Hollaback Girl,” and I’m forever grateful.

The No Doubt and solo songs have been steady companions for over 20 years, making the fun times more joyous, making the hard times sting a little less, making me feel tougher when I’ve needed it most. “Settle Down” got me pumped for interviews when I was out of work. “Simple Kind of Life” helped that tenuous late 20s/early 30s time feel a little more normal.

This music has seen me through my twenties and thirties, job loss, boy loss, quarter-life crisis and so much more. It’s also been a bonding for my brother and I. He was there before I was. He nudged me harder toward No Doubt as the music was swirling all around. He took me to my first No Doubt concert and we’ve gone again and again and again. As a father, he’s made sure his kids have full access to his music library and is proudly raising kids with excellent taste and (unlike us) actual musical ability.

Taking all of this into account, how could I not tear up Saturday night when the first notes of “Underneath It All” began and my niece turned to me, her bright eyes shining with recognition, her smile joyously overtaking her face, the two of us springing from our seats so we could sing and dance along, both of us knowing the words by heart? Getting to be at The Forum (a room with so many great stories) with a girl who takes up so much of my heart, getting to share this music that’s been a presence in more than half of my life, getting to see her develop her own relationship with Gwen, knowing that I can do it again and again and again, as Gwen sang, “I’m really lucky, underneath it all.”