Papa Don't Preach

When Glee came on the air, I was completely smitten. A story of high school misfits finding community in their glee club? An hour of TV peppered with pop songs, Broadway anthems and a lot of silliness? I'm. So. There. If the show got too silly, too campy, there'd be a mash-up of Gary Puckett and the Police, and everything would be all right again.

To say I'm disappointed by the second season is an understatement. It's as if that misfit high school kid has now found himself sitting at the table with the popular kids and is using his platform to teach everyone a lesson. What was once escapist fun is now an after-school special with a random guest appearance by Britney Spears.

This season, instead of a fake pregnancy and an obsessive compulsive guidance counselor, we're getting schooled. God can't be trusted. The arts are undervalued. School administration lets bullying abound. Remember when Glee used to be joyful? Dare I say it, gleeful?

I see the change in the show's mood pretty clearly in Kurt. He's been my favorite from day one. His relationship with his dad moves me. But lately, he's been angry and bitter. He's been pushing away the people who love and accept him.

And that's what Glee is doing to me. It's pushing me away with its sermonizing and angsty story lines. I'm sad about it. All last year, I loved hearing my high school friends (the real ones, not the TV ones) singing Broadway tunes and old pop songs. They were being exposed to music I've known and loved for years. Suddenly, songs they skipped on my iPod were awesome (yes you, Bonnie Tyler's Total Eclipse of the Heart). Now, when we talk about the show, we sigh and grudgingly admit that it wasn't that great this week.

Please, Glee, remember your old friends who loved you before you ruled the school. Broaden our musical horizons and remind us to be kind to the misfits without shoving us into an intellectual locker.