Mutual Glee

by Jane B.

My thirteen-year-old daughter’s homework is done and I’m finished responding to emails; we smile knowingly at each other as we move to the family room.  Curled up on the couch, remotes ready, two hot chocolates on the coffee table, and a big fuzzy, knitted blanket over our legs: we fire up the Netflix.

We’re only three seasons in to a five-season show.  How did we miss this show when it came out? It’s no longer on the air; but it’s all new to us.

Cassie and I giggle with excitement when we hear the familiar beginning to each episode: “So here’s what you missed on Glee.” We’ve come to love each of these characters: Finn, Rachel, Kurt, Puck, Lauren, Quinn, Tina, Artie, Blaine, Santana, Brittany, Mike, Mercedes, Will Schuester, and Sue Sylvester. Each teenage character is an archetype.  There are jocks, bullies, cheerleaders, homosexuals, goths, nerds, overweight kids, and kids with disabilities. I am amazed though, how the show simultaneously maintains and destroys these stereotypes.  It’s as if the show’s writers decided to acknowledge, yet complicate the labels teenagers assign themselves.  No character is entirely good nor entirely bad.  Each of the characters deserve acceptance, respect, and love.

Cassie and I swooned, clapped, and hugged when Kurt kissed Blaine, when Emma confronted her obsessive compulsive disorder, and when Puck fell in love with the large, sassy Lauren.  Our favorite character is Brittany, the self-labeled stupid girl with a heart of gold.  We love Brittany’s quirky fashion sense and we often pick up an iPad to search for Brittany-look-a-like clothing on the web. 

We typically only watch one episode an evening.  I think we’re trying to prolong the enjoyment.   We don’t want it to end.  But we’ve looked ahead, and we know that someday we will reach the show’s final episode.  That will be a sad day. We will miss the characters. The songs. The romances.

But I think I will mourn the end of our shared satisfaction most.  Sitting close together, we snuggle, I play with her hair, she kisses me on the cheek.  When she grows up, will she recall how we bonded over a teenage comedy?  I hope so. 

So I'm looking for another Netflix show we can share when Glee ends. Gilmore Girls seems like a good choice.