April 24, 2007: Luke, Where's My Car?
Let's get the worst part out of the way first: Rory didn't get the fellowship. I'll admit it, at first I was a little surprised, especially after Paris opened acceptance letter after acceptance letter. But sometimes the best opportunities don't go to the best people, a lesson Rory has finally learned. Remember, this is the girl who breezed right into prestigious Chilton, was accepted to both Harvard
and Yale, landed a top spot at the best college newspaper in the country and then became its editor-in-chief. These things don't just happen to your typical journalist. At some point, that chance-of-a-lifetime will be given to someone else. But without the risk, there is no fellowship. So good for you, Ror, for going for your dream job. And don't worry, we'll be seeing your byline really soon.
Now, what to make of Luke and Lorelai? At first I thought the car shopping would go smoothly. You know, an afternoon of witty repartee, lots of bonding over Hummers, hybrids and hatchbacks. Not exactly. Luke wanted her in something safe and sturdy. Lorelai wanted "that feeling." (Hate to tell her, but she's not going to get
that on a car lot.) It took three cars before almost a year's worth of pretenses and politeness was immediately dropped. She was picky. He got mad. She got fussy. He was frustrated. She got irrational. He snapped. (My favorite line, courtesy of TV-obsessed Lorelai: "Jack Bauer should torture his suspects by making them go car shopping with their exes.")
Really? 'Cause in the end, Jack always gets what he wants. And wouldn't you know it, so did both Luke and Lorelai. He went online, found the exact model Jeep, negotiated the price down $1,500, then asked Gypsy to put the good engine inside Lorelai's old car.
Voila! Same Jeep, memories intact, moving forward required, moving on not needed. After a day like that, Luke
still swooped in and came through for Lorelai in a big way. But is that old song and dance
really the best thing for those two? Something to think about....
I'm not sure which intrigued me more: Lorelai's rejuvenated Jeep or her demolished dollhouse. It was sort of funny to see Jackson tiptoeing around her house, putting away his shoes and socks, picking up his towel from the bathroom floor. Then the clumsy dude had to touch the only meaningful thing from Lorelai's childhood - which naturally meant he'd drop it, fall on it, then smash it to pieces like a silly old clod in a really bad cartoon. But if you think about it, that's the last thing Lorelai was holding onto from her past. No more Christopher. No more Friday night dinners. No more debt or servitude to Em and Dick. And the replication of her old life: the tiny Victorian furniture, the mini Oriental carpets, the itty-bitty crystal chandeliers, the petite porcelain dinnerware and silver place settings? A pile of shards in her living room. Yeah, I'm going with the dollhouse. Sometimes it takes total destruction, not rebuilding, to
really move forward. I can only hope she'll figure that out in time.
