Love runs the streets Paris Street Art

Any middle class white girl between the ages of 20 and 35 is super pumped for Friday. Friday is the day that we finally get the Amy Sherman-Palladino ending to Gilmore Girls, the show that meant so much to us in our formative years. Yes re-watching it in 2016 there is a seriously problematic treatment of race, the relationships are fucked and what the hell is up with Luke not telling Lorelai that he has a daughter – but it is nostalgia that I/we can’t shake.

But despite the Netflix powered build up, I can’t help fearing this Friday a little. At the moment we have videos of white supremacists (which we apparently have to call alt-right now to avoid hurting their feelings) doing Hitler salutes on mainstream news channels. There is unprecedented levels* of race based attacks in the UK and USA, the President elect has actively encouraged tension against minority groups, and the UK is still running full pelt towards the brick wall of Brexit. And on Friday, our glorious Gilmore Girls Friday, social media will be screaming about Rory’s job choices. BuzzFeed will have 18 quizzes so you can see if you are on Team Jess/Dean/Logan. Genuine grown up news sites will have light hearted opinion pieces about the revival, nudging it onto the front page to try and fill space. We will ignore the horror in the world in favour of something that feels hygge.

In the past I have been a massive advocate of turning off the news if it gets too much, protecting yourself and your mental health in the wake of terrorist attacks that were a little too close to home. But now? I keep wondering about how Londoners felt on the eve of the rise of Hitler in the years before World War Two. Did they bake cake to distract from the feeling of unease they felt when they read the newspaper? Did they throw a little too much effort into Christmas because ‘surely’ it isn’t as bad as they all say, someone will put a stop to it.

I might be overreacting, the Trump administration may not be world ending. But. But. What if they are? What if this is the point in history where we could be standing up, doing SOMETHING, and we are too busy using the #todayimgrateful hashtag to make the world seem a little lighter. I don’t mean to throw shade at anyone using the hashtag by the way, I understand the point and applaud the attempt to focus on the positive – but what if tomorrow Trump announces the Muslim register and we are being grateful for a good cup of tea?

I’m writing this because I feel truly impotent right now. I know that racism is not just a problem in America, it is 100% an issue in the UK too, and I don’t know what I can be doing to help. Retweeting is not enough. Sharing a status is not enough. Disagreeing when someone says something thoughtless is my jam, but waiting for mild levels of conversational cunt seems like a weak cop out. I hate how Brexit is dividing Europe (right at the moment when we need to have our shit together) but how can I actually influence change?

As we have seen from the last few referendums and elections, the social media bubble you are in is just an echo chamber. You surround yourself with people who think the same way you do, and then the big day arrives and your liberal castle crumbles around you. So how on earth do you reach people with a different opinion, how do you engage someone in a meaningful debate without searching for the ‘KKK London HQ’ on Citymapper. Actually I think that would be a bad idea. Don’t try to talk to the KKK. Or should we? Oh god I don’t even know anymore.

I know what will happen. I will watch Gilmore Girls on Friday and get entirely wrapped up in how ‘its not like it used to be’ and how neither of the girls has managed to have a functioning relationship in the intervening years. If this is the eve of World War three I will be discussing how Suki should be a Michelin starred chef and Michele should have been fired while the world burns around me. The way we live through binge watching and social media is the new opiate for the masses, and while we focus on the petty and the fluffy we are letting bad things happen. By doing nothing we are accepting the new status quo.

Any ideas?

*not unprecedented levels of racism, racism does not appear overnight – this current rhetoric is just allowing people to voice their bias as if it was mainstream and acceptable

Gilmore Girls on a plane

It all started off perfectly normal. Terrified of flying me needed a distraction during the flight from London to LA. Nothing action adventure that would make me think the plane is crashing, nothing too soppy that would bring on the tears; Gilmore Girls seemed like the perfect solution.

But things got weird. Very weird.

First episode was fine, Rory got into Chilton and the endless jibber jabber was blocking out the pressurised cabin noise. I managed to balance two vodkas, a packet of sour cream and chive pretzels and a laptop on the tiny try table and all was right with the world.

With two episodes under my belt I was patting myself on the back for devising the best flying coping mechanism that man had ever gazed upon. But then the hot drink service happened, and I ordered “coffee, coffee, coffee”. I got three coffees.

I am a coffee machine, I can handle this. The Gilmore Girls is not going to lead me astray.

Then the man in seat behind me kicked my seat. Ok he might not have kicked my seat like a truculent toddler, the grey haired business professional might just have been putting the tray table away but that was not enough to stop me making a quip about the Britney umbrella incident circa 2007. Because what social situation can’t be improved by an out of date pop-culture reference.

Somewhere over the Atlantic and I think the Jess-lookalike-steward from business class is making eyes at me. I try to fashion a bandana out of my blanket because after six episodes all my style choices are decided by Lorelai. The steward catches me staring and sends the economy steward over to ask if I am OK. I panic and ask for more coffee.

Episode eight and my god I want a pop tart I have never had a pop tart. What is a pop tart? They look like cardboard. Are pop tarts cardboard?

Episode nine and I am regretting that I never had that teenage pregnancy that would allow me to live out my Gilmore Girl fantasy. First my mother had the audacity to not be a teenage disappointment, and then I had to take the same sad ‘continued education and life overseas’ path. Just imagine how much coffee I would be able to mainline now if I had tried harder when I was 16?

Around Episode 11 I recognised that I had a problem. The woman in the seat next to me put earplugs in because I was talking Paris Geller speed at her about how weird it was that we might be flying over Stars Hollow right now (we weren’t) and I was watching Gilmore Girls and wasn’t that just perfect.

I don’t know if it was the back to back episodes, the vodkas or trying to match Rory coffee for coffee but I have a problem. Send help.