Although I stopped watching Glee a while ago, (an inability to allow certain/any characters to move on, and cast remotely interesting new ones won’t win you favours with me) I have a lot to thank it for. My obsession with Fleetwood Mac, for example, confidence to tartan whenever I want, and the reminder that my secondary school days were a matter of survival rather than all sports days and school trips.
At random moments in the day I find myself remembering odd lessons those first three seasons taught me. A dance that involves a lot of hair is compensating for talent, nobody likes a needy drunk and if you’re going to write a good song, it probably shouldn’t be a about a headband.
But on days like today, when I consider the long road ahead of me in terms of career and life choices, a very clear moment comes to mind. It’s an episode of the first season, in which Kurt tries to be straight. He takes an interest in his dad’s work, he goes on a date with Britney, he tones down his wardrobe. He wants his dad to love him. But that means, or at least he thinks it does, being someone else. But that’s not possible. So in the end he gets on stage, in full Kurt style and sings his heart out.
Well, someone tell me, when is it my turn?
Don’t I get a dream for myself?
Starting now it’s gonna be my turn.
Gangway, world, get off of my runway!
Starting now I bat a thousand!
This time, boys, I’m taking the bows and-
and I know this is from Gypsy, but I’m going to admit something to you. I haven’t seen Gypsy. But I have seen Chris Colfer almost move me to tears. I can’t act or sing to even a degree of his performance, but when I find myself waiting to hear back from a prospective employer, or rifling through old drafts of scripts and manuscripts and imagining how I would stage them, I hear the beginnings of the big band. It’s about time it was Jess’s turn.
Or at least began the journey to Jess’s Turn.
I’m still deciding.