Thing 1 headed back to school today, but before she did, we had some mother daughter bonding in the form of binge watching an older TV show that neither of us had seen: season 1 of “Gilmore Girls”, a chick show if there ever was one. So why am I feeling hostile?
The setting is an idealised fictitious small town in Connecticut where only two seasons exist. It’s either autumn— specifically that week when the leaves on the trees are in the fiery red, orange and gold phase, or it’s winter.
That town doesn’t have the type of winter I grew up in, and still suffer through. The snow in that town is pretty. The fake snow in that fake town in the northeast falls from a fake blue sky where fake flakes float like confetti—straight down, they don’t pelt the characters in the face like shards of glass.
That’s okay, I get it—it’s television, but it distracts me. None of the actors bother themselves to act cold either. In fact they look perfectly comfortable. The air they exhale is unseen. There is no red runny nose on the perfect face of the tall, thin, happy and perpetually perky single mom, who wears an adorable hat, scarf, mitten set, and leaves her jacket unzipped…not even a shiver.
One of her three love interests, a handsome man with a thick head of dark hair shows no sign of snow moisture either. Instead he seems completely moisture repellent in his long wool coat, and without the benefit of hat, gloves, scarf, earmuffs, or runny red nose.
If winter was the way it is depicted in this show, without the suffering, I would welcome it. But it isn’t, and I hate winter…and I want my daughter back so we can watch season 2.
January 14, 2016 <a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/unseen/”>Unseen</a>