Every morning and every evening I climb the carpeted stairs to the second level of our house, take a sharp left into a bedroom that doubles as my gym, and plop myself down on this:
I put on the earphones, start up the DVD player, and start cranking those pedals (not really visible in this picture). More often than not I press past the designated 15-minute mark because I’m so totally engrossed in this:
Yes, while you are hooked on Modern Family and Homeland and Arrested Development and Breaking Bad, I’m visiting Stars Hollow, Connecticut, trying to follow the fast-paced banter of the mother-daughter duo called the Gilmore Girls. I’ve just put my last disc in the player and will soon say goodbye to my friends of seven seasons worth of fun and disappointment and love and heartbreak and relational roller coasters. I expect happy endings all around, but it will be a sad day for me nonetheless.