Dear American High posters:
I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this recap, but I believe you're all fully aware of my continuous problems with my VCR. If it's any consolation, I will be shooting it with poison arrows immediately after taping tonight's episodes.Dear PBS:
Um, whatever happened to repeating the episodes fourteen times between new airings? I was pretty much all over that. I have fond memories of the early days when I could accidentally screw up a show taping (and believe me, it was always an accident -- perhaps an alcohol-fueled accident, but an accident nonetheless) and rest easy knowing that the missed episode would appear on my screen no fewer than three hundred times over the week. You disappoint me, PBS. Please return my subscription of ten dollars immediately.Dear Sars:
Please don't fire my ass.Dear Symphonic Electronic Products:
Your VCR sucks corn nuts.
Ahem.
And now a word about Spring Break:
It's stupid. It's retarded. It's lame. It's infantile. A bunch of semi-emotionally-backward children head down to sunny lands for a heavy dose of sand, surf, and spillage. Wow. That sounds SO entertaining. Yeah, I want my parents to drop a couple paychecks on an unsupervised trip to Daytona so some Neanderthal can snort Cuervo Gold off my exposed belly. Yeah. I'd rather have natural childbirth. Twice. In ten minutes. With no epidural. And a guy named Rocco giving me multiple nose piercings. WITH A DULL ICE PICK.
All righty.
As we come out of the white-on-black opener, some mother is trying to lecture her daughter on the perils of spring break festivities. We learn later that this is Shanna and her mother, but I'll just save us the time and emotional breakdown and tell you now: this is Shanna. And her mother. "I hope that if you do drink, and you do get drunk," her mother says, "you get so sick that you'll never do it again." Wow. Did she get that from Dr. Spock's Baby and Child Care? That is damn fine advice. Note to self: tell future children to get extremely wasted as much as possible in the hopes that they will eventually keel over on the bathroom floor with their faces shoved into a toilet full of puke in an effort to educate them on the evils of alcohol. That reminds me. Where's my Amstel?
Hey. Cheerleaders. That reminds me. Where's my gun? Suzy comes onscreen and says that she wants to interview some of the popular people to find out what life is like for them. Empty? Careless? Irrelevant? Asinine? I'm just guessing. Other students come onscreen and talk about cliques and being popular or not popular, and then some kid says something about how he's not a geek or a popular person but just a band person, which segues nicely into the geeks, erm, I mean "band members" convening in the rehearsal room with their various instruments. No, not THOSE instruments. The ones that make music. Dirty birds.
Scott says that everyone loves being in band because they're a group of kids who love making music and they've built a family around that fact. Yeah, a family of geeks. Dammit. There I go again. Pigeonholing a group of people based on my distant high-school biases. Bad me. Especially bad considering that I once played the flute in band. Shut up. No. I mean it. SHUT UP.
Then the kids from Fame are on the band bus and their band teacher tells them that the trip to China is still on. China? They're going to China? The hell? I went to fucking Bloomington with the theatre group. That's it. BLOOMINGTON. As in ILLINOIS. What a rip-off. I should have transferred to HPHS. Cheap Lake Forest bastards.
Kaytee's all excited about the trip. "I'm goin' to China with my band friends!" she crows. "I'm gonna...read books on the plane and...see the Great Wall!" In that order.
Scott explains that their band leader, Dr. Hiles, has been putting his heart and soul into this band trip, which is why he's been a mite cranky of late. "This is basically his life right now," says Scott. Dr. Hiles looks kind of like a football coach gone wrong. He says in an interview that there's something about being in the band group that the kids see as being very special. "It's the striving for the perfection that I think those kids feel," he says while driving his reasonably priced car down a desolate highway. "At least, I hope they do." Yeah. Dr. Hiles is counting on this China trip. He's counting on it to give him meaning in his life. His sad little life. Wow. I am rife with bitterness tonight, aren't I?
And now on to the part of the show that makes me want to claw at the screen until my fingers are just bloody stubs.
"The Group of 21," says Abalone, "we're probably known as one of the more popular groups." She says this in a voice-over while sitting at a table with six other girls who not only have the exact same haircut as Abalone, but also the same hair color, the same makeup, AND the same outfits on. Sandy blunt-cut blonde hair, frosted lipstick, pale eye shadow, black t-shirt, black pants, black coats. Which one's Abalone? Which one of us cares? Not me, that's for sure.
Shanna's up, telling us that she likes to know that she has these friends that she's shared a good portion of her life with. "Abby's, like, my best friend," Shanna says. "We get along so well...it's, like, we just fit." Then Abalone's going on about how there are some friends from high school that you know you won't stay friends with, but that she and Shanna will still keep in touch. Fast forward three years to when Shanna's actually getting somewhere in college and Abalone's still whining about how Brad got into college before her and considering her major. FOR THE EIGHTH TIME.
Abalone spends about thirteen minutes making a "best friend" scrapbook for Shanna that Shanna will find ten years from now in a box down in the storage room of her condo, and will look curiously upon it and then promptly take it upstairs and slowly, reverently, add torn pieces of it to her beautifully roaring hearth fire.
The girls both mention in interviews that they're going to the Bahamas for spring break. "For the first time we'll be on our own. We'll be taking responsibility for ourselves," says Abalone. Not fucking likely, Blondie. Try "drinking until our livers jump out of our bodies and bathe themselves in the cleansing waters of ocean." It's spring break, not a religious retreat. I seriously doubt that anyone, at any time, will be taking ANY responsibility for ANYTHING.
Allie tells us that she's really excited for this break, that she needs it. She's looking forward to chilling with a bunch of people from her grade that she normally might not chill with. Yo. Roll with those homies, girlfriend.
Over at Dysfunctional Relationship Central, Robby's mauling Saran Wrap as she says in a voice-over, "Spring break is like the place where all the seniors, like, hook up. They all get together. And here I am a junior. For me to say to Robby, 'I don't want you fooling around with a girl,' I couldn't say that. Because, all of his friends are gonna be doing that." So, instead of telling Roadster to keep his vehicle parked in the garage, she basically gives him permission to go out and pick up women. Along with several STDs.
"Good morning, Highland Park. This is the District 113 Sunshine Lady. We're supposed to get that six- to twelve-inch snowstorm. Tomorrow, the key ingredients: boots, mittens, hats."
What the hell was that? "The Sunshine Lady"? Highland Park High School has a "Sunshine Lady"? And her function is to remind the students to, you know, prepare for the weather? Is Highland Park a "special" school? Why must the students be reminded to, uh, DRESS FOR WINTER? Do they have learning disabilities? Do they live in caves? Do they not own televisions or have parental units? What, if the "Sunshine Lady" didn't tell them to wear their winter gear, they'd all show up in tank tops and underwear?
The Winter of Our Discontent Band Rehearsal Room. The not-so-merry band members are roughly making their way through a piece I don't recognize. They finish, and the Good Doctor has this to say: "How do you feel? I would feel awful. Okay? Want to know how many full rehearsals we have? FOUR. I'm embarrassed. I don't want to go. I don't want to go. Because you're not proving anything." He exits the room to stunned silence. Half of the band members contemplate an early exit from this life via an overdose of Flintstones chewable vitamins and lighter fluid; the other half contemplate taking their various instruments and inserting them into every available orifice that the Good Doctor has to offer.
As the snow falls gently upon the quiet streets of Highland Park, the kids tell us how excited they are to be traveling far, far away from their daily lives. Whether it's the bacchanal in the Bahamas or the centered calm that is China, they're ready to shuffle off this mortal coil and get the hell out of town.
Ya, man. Welcome to de Bahamas. One second into the portion of the ep and I've already counted seven cocktails. I think it's about seven-thirty in the morning in the Bahamas. Which, of course, is the official start of the underage drinker's cocktail hour. There are babes in bikinis, boys in baggy shorts, and more alcoholic beverages than you can shake your heinie at. In an interview, Shanna observes that Abalone and her friend Jenny have basically been inseparable for this entire trip. Or at least for the five seconds it's taken the producers to establish that we're in the Bahamas. Shanna feels very left out and pushed aside. Don't fret, Shanna-girl. Abalone's going to wind up drunk in a ditch somewhere with her underwear on the outside of her clothing and Jenny screaming at her, "Get up! GET UP! Da planes leavesh inna twoo hoursh! Whoops! Ish dat da pavement? Zzzzzz..."
Meanwhile, in the land of Mao, no cocktails are being served, and Kaytee's tripping the light Ho Chi Minh fantastic. We have several establishing shots of China and its inhabitants, and I remind myself to find out just how much a ticket to China is and if I can convince Wedge to go with me. All I need is a couple extra thou and a promise to Wedge that yes, we will visit Hong Kong and yes, I'll buy him every kung-fu DVD he can carry.
The band members get sped around pell-mell by the Good Doctor, barely able to snap a picture before he carts them along behind him. Back at the hotel, jet lag and boredom set in as the Good Doctor drones on and on about their hectic schedule and the kids make a mental note to set the Good Doctor's hotel room on fire.
Our little saucy Scooter ultimately decides that the "bed check" that's been installed by the Good Doctor is not really his "thing." Scooter the Scurrilous scampers from room to room on the girls' floor, blithely ignoring the curfew rules. His number's up when the Good Doctor arrives at his room for the bed check and his roommate performs the following skit:
Roommate: Scott? Oh, you look great Scott.
The Scott Who Isn't There: Why, thank you, Sean.
Ha! A HA HA! A HA HA HA! Oh, God! That's...that's just SO funny! Oh-ho! Boy, you got me there, Sean! That was so convincing! And so funny! So goddamn funny! You're a laugh riot there, band boy. Truly.
The Good Doctor's not finding Sean's wacky band antics half as funny as I am, however. Scott eventually makes it back down to his room, gasp, TEN MINUTES AFTER CURFEW! The horror! His doorway is once again darkened by the Good Doctor. Sean once again tries some creative evasive maneuvers -- namely, shutting the door in the Good Doctor's face a few times. That's another good one, Sean! Whew! Stop. Please. I can't breathe.
Doctor Doolittle has a few choice words with Scott wherein it is established that Scott has screwed up, the Doctor is none too pleased, and he better get his drum-bashing ass into bed where it belongs. That Scooter. What a scamp.
Bahamas Booty Camp. Shanna's moaning about how she and Abalone are best friends but that now, here in the sun-soaked land of liquor, she feels like they're strangers. Yeah. Eight vats of daiquiris will make strangers of the bestest of friends. Funny how that is. Shanna declares that she had no interest in getting wasted and finding guys to hook up with. I think Shanna's actually thirty-two and just going on this trip to find material for her new exposé, High-School Sluts And The Friends They Leave Behind. Jen and Abalone sport their tans and their ability to smoke cigarettes without actually inhaling.
In some random disco, the high-schoolers get their fill of drinks, dancing, and date rape. "No one's respecting anyone, or their space," says Allie. "The guys just really want to hook up with girls right now." Right now? Right now, you say? Try ALWAYS. It don't just happen on spring break, girlfriend. It's just a hell of a lot more obvious.
The morning, Jen and Abalone screech and cackle about the night's debauched activities as Abalone all but flashes us her endowments. Shanna's disgusted. "I question my friendships," she says. "It's a hard thing to realize, two months before you're supposed to graduate, the people you spent four of the most important years of your life with...if that is it." Abalone tries to excuse her friend-abandoning behavior by stating that she and Shanna are in different modes. Yeah. Shanna's in "I'd like to hang out with my friends in the Bahamas and actually remember it" mode, and Abalone's in "Where's my damn piña colada and the penis?" mode.
The Land of Crouching Tigers and Hidden Dragons. Kaytee's got her guitar and she's singing. I mean, wait, she's just going, "I went to China. I'm in China." Okay. Kaytee? I'm all for your self-expression and your coffeehouse gigs and all but, um, STOP. Okay? Just stop. YOU'RE IN CHINA. Try to have a little decorum. I think they have people killed for singing stupid ditties like that in public. Halt. Cease. Desist. Knock it off.
More establishing shots of China as the kids get crabby with each other. At a dim sum place, Kaytee bitches about kids that have money to go to the Bahamas just to drink. The Good Doctor says, "I don't think you can have excellence without discipline." Stop showing him. Please? Pretty please? With a non-annoying cherry on top?
At the Children's Palace, the kids rehearse and, as Scooter puts it, "[They] were awful." And I have to agree with him. They're pretty pathetic. "It was the worst performance I've ever, EVER played in," concludes Scooter.
Out in some courtyard, the Good Doctor proceeds to publicly humiliate his charges. "I want you to listen carefully," he states clearly. "You are so self-absorbed. You need to sort out your personal lives and think about the group. I don't think we worked all that time, took all that effort, to come here and have a bad time." He goes on to tell them to show a little pride and give the best performance they possibly can.
AAAAGHHH! AAAAGHHHHHHH! Is that -- oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick. Scooter and Kaytee are holding hands! Ew. EWWWWW. No, I don't think they're together. I think it's just a supportive hand-holding thing. But. Still. Ew. Move away from the bad Scooter, Kaytee. Move. Away.
Back in da Bahamas...Shanna and Allie are rediscovering their freshman friendship while looking at a stingray in the ocean. They chat about really important things like enjoying high school and changing friends and sand crabs and the pitfalls of popularity, and Allie imparts her stoner wisdom upon her renewed friend.
Roadster, having not succeeded at hooking up with as many random chicks as possible, decides to make a long-distance booty call to Saran Wrap. He goo-goos and gah-gahs into the pay phone, and I call 911 to tell them to send an emergency stomach pump and a barf bag because I am going to hurl mac and cheese all over my computer monitor.
He gets off the phone and practically jizzes all over the camera in his ultimate orgasmic love for the clingiest girlfriend of all time. Did I mention the hurling? I see that I did.
Back in the USSR, or China, or wherever. It's time for the last concert, Scooter tells us. The hell? Where was the first concert? The only performance I saw was some sort of half-assed thing where the kids just slouched around and wore their warm-up jackets and kind of rolled their eyes all over the place. Didn't look like much of a concert, if you ask me. Anyway, a group of Chinese midgets, a.k.a. "children," take the stage of the Shanghai Youth Orchestra. They're wearing tuxes and formal dresses and they look like they could kick the ass of the London Philharmonic, let alone the cutters from HPHS. And you know what? They kick ass. A bunch of stoic eight-year-olds with instruments just kicking ass and taking names. Truly unbelievable.
Scooter's all, "These kids learn the violin when they're eight. They're geniuses. How can we hope to beat them?" Dude. It's China. CHINA. They start teaching their kids violin at conception. What'd you expect? It's CHINA. You know, the CHINESE? This is what they do. It's their job. Communism, acupuncture, and CHILD GENIUSES. Get over it. Let it go. You will never beat the Chinese. NEVER.
The HPHS Scrappers take the stage as Scooter tells us that there was a lot of pressure, but they didn't care. All they cared about was playing it the way they wanted to play it. Well...if they wanted to play it craptastically, then I guess they achieved their goals. I'm kidding. They're not all that bad. They're nowhere NEAR the Chinese Prodigy Select, but they're holding their own. My foot was tapping. Really. And not just because I was impatient for this episode to end.
The Good Doctor's back again to tell us, "You look at a team that wins a championship; a close game that is won. That becomes a very special moment. There's the challenge. Let's do this together. That was a good experience." And he fights back tears. HE FIGHTS BACK TEARS. I'm not sure whether to be touched, or to turn my television off and never turn it on again because I'm so ooked out.
On the other side of the world, the spring breakers are winding up their trip. Roadster waxes philosophical about how there was a definite split amongst the group. Shanna waxes self-referential about how she learned a lot about herself on this trip and how there was a deeper meaning that she came away with than just partying.
Hallowed Highland Park Halls. The band kids share their pictures and memories of the China trip. Abalone and Shanna aren't as close as they were, and Abalone actually steps outside her self-involved zone of reference and realizes the different relationship she and Shanna now have. Shanna wraps it all up by saying, "This town? This place? These people? You know, I love 'em all. I love it all. I love all of it. But it's time to move on."
I agree. I wish I could move on. But there are three more episodes, and I'm trapped here with my Amstel and my cigarettes and my memories of a time when my VCR didn't suck and I was able to go to bed before midnight on a Wednesday.
time: It's the prom. THE PROM. Jesus. I just recapped a damn winter formal and now I have to recap the prom? Oh, this is going to get ugly. Real ugly. Real fast.