'Matter of Laugh or Death,' a humor column
By Bill Dunn
Interesting observations on this thing we call life
(appearing each week in the Republican-American newspaper, Waterbury, CT)
‘GILMORE GIRLS’ A HIT WITH GUYS, TOO
Connecticut celebrity Scot Haney and I now have at least two things in common: neither of us has any idea what the weather will be tomorrow, and we both like the TV show “Gilmore Girls.”
In case you don’t know who Scot Haney is—and the only reason I can think of is that your house does not have electricity—he is the “zany” weatherman on Channel 3 who has been voted “Best News Personality in Connecticut” for six years in a row. The word “zany” is frequently applied to Scot, and not just because it rhymes with his last name. Trust me, even if his name were Scot McGillicuddy, the word “zany” would be used often to describe him.
(OK, I just realized if you use the word “zany” three times in one paragraph it completely looses its zaniosity. Henceforth I’ll only use the following words to characterize Scot: wacky, madcap, hilarious, and punctual.)
Anyway, another word I can use to describe Mr. Haney is courageous. Scot had the guts to admit in an area magazine that his favorite TV show is “Gilmore Girls.”
In case you don’t know what “Gilmore Girls” is—and the only reason I can think of is that you rightly assume the WB Network is a waste of broadcast airspace—it is the only hit show ever produced by that network. The main characters are Lorelai Gilmore, a sassy, single woman in her late 30s; Rory Gilmore, Lorelai’s brainy teenage daughter and best friend; and the Gilmore girl who is my personal favorite, Emily Gilmore, Lorelai’s wealthy blueblood mother, who is as charming as a rattlesnake but with twice as much venom.
The show is set in the fictional Connecticut town of Star’s Hollow—fictional being defined as a Hollywood back lot where everyone pretends Hartford is 20 minutes away. Even though the show feels more Silicon Valley than Farmington Valley, it’s nice to hear Nutmeg State references sprinkled throughout the show, such as Litchfield, Yale, Westport, and Malibu.
“Gilmore Girls” has become a cult favorite among young women and teenage girls. Most guys have never heard of the show, since to them the WB Network is merely a blurry placeholder you are forced to click past while surfing between ESPN and professional wrestling. If pressed, most guys would probably guess that the “Gilmore Girls” are a spandex-clad dance team that performs during halftime of NBA games.
The reason I am familiar with “Gilmore Girls” is because my two daughters love the show. When they are not watching it during its regular broadcast time, 8 p.m. on Tuesdays, they are watching their DVD collections of the first five years of the show. I think they even let the DVDs continue to play late at night while everyone in our house is asleep, just so our television set can enjoy the witty dialog.
After all, that is what has made the show a hit: its witty, fast-paced, smart-aleck dialog. Even though I am from both the wrong generation and the wrong gender to be an official fan of the show, the program reminds me of another hit show from a quarter-century ago: “M*A*S*H.”
Lorelai and Rory are basically Hawkeye and Trapper with tight jeans and mascara, while the rest of the ensemble is there mostly to be on the receiving end of a constant stream of clever rejoinders.
I enjoy the show, but if anyone catches me watching it, I claim that I just paused briefly on my surfing journey to ESPN. Also, I think it will be sunny tomorrow—but you’d better bring an umbrella anyway.
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