Rory takes what is apparently one of dozens of photographs of Logan, as he puts on his tie. "Yo, Alfred Stieglitz," he says, cutely, "stop with the pictures." Rory pouts, saying that she prefers to be compared to Cartier-Bresson, and snaps away, saying that he only graduates from college once, and that she will document it to her heart's content. "At least I'm clothed in these," he says, launching into a diatribe of how he doesn't even know why he's doing this; his family sucks, and there will be all manner of Huntzbergers at the graduation. They'll come see him graduate with thousands of others, but won't visit him in the hospital when he almost dies? Rory says that she will have no problem at the ceremony, since she is a master at avoiding people. "I didn't say 'people'," Logan says. "I said Huntzbergers." She brushes this off, returning again to the subject of her excellent photography skills. "Every one of these is a keeper," she says, showing him the digital pictures. "Okay," he says, sighing, "that's a close up of my naked butt. That's not a keeper." Rory nods: "You're right. That's a screensaver."

Back in Stars Hollow, The Sparks are warming up their own troubadour act on another corner. They are fabulous, as always, and inspire a ten-minute lecture from my husband about their brilliant collaboration with his beloved (pre-reality show embarrassments) Jane Weidlin. Their great song about women and perfume leads Taylor to once again burst forth and throw up his hands at them and another troubadour, played by the recurring Dave "Gruber" Allen, who is singing a very funny song about crying clowns -- one of my favorite subjects. Taylor can't figure out where all of these people are coming from, and rages into Luke's diner, asking Luke whether he's "eyeballed the chicanery" that is going on in town. Luke gives him the brush, but Kirk steps in to offer an explanation, telling Taylor about the original Troubadour getting his gig with Neil Young. Inexplicably, Taylor asks who this Neil Young is. "One of The Monkees," Kirk erroneously explains. I have a little laugh at the expense of Neil Young, who, yes, I do consider to be a musical genius -- but...listen, I am from Alabama, and we simply never forgive. Anyway, Kirk says that he thinks word got out among the east coast network of troubadours and they've all rushed to Stars Hollow for their shot at taking over the vacant position. Kirk says that these wandering musical storytellers have a long and interesting history, remembering one early pilgrim who delighted his companions with his popular tune "A Beaver Ate My Thumb." Taylor gets more and more upset, and turns to see yet another singer strap on her guitar in front of the diner.