Chapter One
Have you ever noticed that there's a disturbingly large number of songs written about school ending and summer vacation, but very few about the fall and returning to your studies? Trust me, I know, I've done research with both of my best friends -- Lane Kim, who is about all things music, and my mom, Lorelai Gilmore, who is just about all things. We finally found a song by the White Stripes, a band out of Detroit, Michigan, comprised of Jack and Meg White. "We're Going to Be Friends" is simple, almost Beatles-esque in tone, and is about the joys of childhood and the excitement one has when they first start school.
Apparently there's some controversy as to whether Jack and Meg are siblings or former husband and wife, but to me the bigger question is how did a band out of Detroit, automobile capital of the world, and a city better known for giving us Alice Cooper, Iggy Pop, and Eminem, breed a band that could write such an innocent and endearing song?
Now, don't get me wrong. I like summers. I think summers are great. I just really happen to love school and I feel that excitement the White Stripes sing about whenever I think about school. So, it is with great anticipation that I sit at Luke's Diner having breakfast with my mom on the first day of the fall semester. There is no better place to start off the day than Luke's. He has, hands down, the best coffee in the world, though I wouldn't know that for sure as I haven't really traveled much outside my hometown of Stars Hollow, Connecticut. But that will change when I become the next Christiane Amanpour and travel around the world, reporting on what's going on, and, of course, trying out the coffee everywhere I go soI can stand behind my aforementioned statement.
Of course, in order to get there, I have to finish high school and get into Harvard, the university of my dreams, and that requires actually getting to the place of education. So I quickly finished my breakfast and sat watching Mom eat hers. I stared at her anxiously.
"How are the eggs?" I finally asked, hoping to speed her up.
"Good," Mom answered.
"I'm glad," I said.
Mom kept eating and I continued to stare, tapping my fingers impatiently.
"They're still good," Mom said, looking up at me.
"I'm still glad."
"Look, freak, we will not be late."
"It's the first day of school, I want to get there early."
"We will get there early. I promise."
"I have different classes this year. My routes aren't the same. I haven't found the quickest path around. And my locker, they moved it so I don't even know if it will work properly and then I'll have to get a new one and God knows how long that will take or where it'll be and that could send the whole day into chaos." Mom smiled at me. "I'm just excited," I completed, returning the smile.
Lane came bursting through the door. "Oh, thank God you haven't left yet," she said as she rushed to our table and sat down.
"Nope ... what's up?" I asked.
"Well, I found the greatest record store in the world, it's ten minutes from your school, and I'm wondering how much you love me," Lane said, putting down her backpack.
What kind of crazy question was that? Next to my mom, she's been my best friend forever. I would do anything for her.
"Address," I said as I leaned over to get a piece of paper and pen out of my bag.
"Record Breaker, Incorporated. 2453 BerlinTurnpike."
"Yes," Lane said, excited. She pulled out her wellworn copy of "The MOJO Collection and flipped it open. The "MOJO Collection, a monstrous book that presents a guide to the history of the pop album, is put out by the fine people at "MOJO, the U.K.'s leading rock magazine. The magazine commissioned leading music journalists to select what they considered the most important albums ever recorded and reassess their significance to popular music. Lane, following their lead, has since reassessed her CD collection, deemed it insufficient and was trying to correct it.
"Charles Mingus, "The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady, Lane said, reading from the book.
"Right," I said, jotting it down. "The Sonics, "Here Are the Sonics."
"Burn me a copy. Next."
"MC5, "Kick Out the Jams, Fairport Convention, "Liege and Lief, Bee Gees, "Odewa ..."
"Bee Gees. Really," I said, surprised.
She shut the book and placed her hand reverentially on it. "Well, "MOJO says ..."
"So it must be true."
"Okay, that's it. Now, if I can just find a copy of Whistler, Chaucer, Detroit and Greenhill, I will finally be done with the sixties," Lane said, handing me some money.
"I'll get there today. Tomorrow at the latest," I promised.
"I love it when you go back to school," she said with a huge smile.
"Me too," I said, returning the smile. Mom got up and started for the counter. "Hey!" I yelled at her.
"I am getting doughnuts for later," she replied. "As soon as I do I'll drive you to school and the nice men in white coats will pick you up."
Taylor Doose, owner of Doose's Market and selfappointed town leader, passed by withhis Boy Scout troop and Mom stood to the side, waiting impatiently while they argued about what they were ordering. Finally, she interrupted. "Hey, doughnuts, please."
"We were here first," one of the kids said.
"On the planet?" Mom replied.
"Huh?" was the confused kid's response.
"You lose," Mom said and then turned to Luke ...
It's true. The Chilton gods seem to get great amusement out of putting Paris and me in the same setting, be it academically or socially. And they're alos bestowing their evil charms on my mom, who's been told by Headmaster Charleston that she needs to be more involved. So she's working on being a "Chilton mom," and I'm trying to be a "Puff." It hasn't been easy for either of us, especially with the distraction of my debutante ball, the arrival of Luke's nephew, Jess, and Tristan's return to school. What's Harvard?