Okay, it's the end. It's over. AND IT'S AN HOUR LONG.
I've never had to recap any show over a half hour. I'm not sure I can handle it. But, since I've been assigned to an hour-long show in the fall, I'd better get used to it. I just hope my new show doesn't reduce me to tears the way this bloody one did.
See. Um. The kids graduate in this episode. And, don't laugh, I wound up not only liking each and every one of these kids (except, of course, for CrAbby, who shall forever exist within my shit bank with a cardboard sign hanging around her neck saying, "I'm a king-sized ASS so please ignore me"), but pretty much also ADORING them. Yes, even Pueblo. I mean, for the most part, Pueblo still irritated me, but even he had a few endearing moments. And the parents. THE PARENTS. God. I think I teared up at least three or four times during this episode, and three of those four times were due to the damn parents!
Excuse me. I have to go call my mother. Right now.
The final show begins in the only way it can. With Morgan and his dad.
"'Dear Morgan,'" says Morgan, reading from a letter, "'It is my pleasure to inform you that you have been admitted to Columbia College for the Fall 2000 semester.'" Morgan turns to his dad. "I wanna know what your outlook on me getting into a college is." "My outlook on it?" says his dad. "WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE DAMN LETTER, DAD?" Morgan shouts. Dad goes on to say that he's really pleased about it, and so is Morgan's mom. He follows this up by pissing on Morgan's parade. "But you do remember that all the stuff that you don't want to read carefully says that this is dependent upon the receipt of your last semester's transcripts and the fact that you get a document that says you graduated." Morgan, who up until this point was existing within his own pretty perfect world, says, "You don't make this very easy." Dad says that it's not going to be easy and that this is a major life step for him. "The minute you go down to Columbia College, you go down to the city, it's not gonna be a Dean Warrens calling me up or a Mr. Harris calling up to piss in my ear. It's gonna be --" "It's gonna be the police," Morgan retorts in his fashion. "Yeah, it's gonna be the police," his father responds. "That's good." Hee.
After the credits, the montage sequence starts, using what I assume is the Senior Beach Bonfire as its backdrop. CrAbby's up first, saying that high school is "amazing." Shocker. CrAbby loves high school? CrAbby loves being a big fish in a little sea? CrAbby loves the fact that she's SOMEONE in high school? No surprises here, people. I can't WAIT until she gets to college and she's not the only moderately attractive dyed-blonde on the premises. Then Pueblo's in a bumper car, telling us that he's having a "blast" in his head right now because school's over. Back at the beach, Roadster's hanging out with Brad and then telling us that life is pretty good and graduating is "crazy". If by "crazy" you mean "actually leaving Saran-Wrap's clingy arms and getting on with your life." We catch a glimpse of Teddy the Tard at the bonfire, looking about as intelligent as a hermit crab. Then we see Allie sort of hanging around on the sand, and then she's telling us that she's here in the world and she's here to "come getcha." "And I'm just like," she says, in an interview on a grassy knoll somewhere, "KNOCKING ON THE FUCKING DOOR! LET ME IN!" She illustrates that she's "KNOCKING ON THE FUCKING DOOR" by raising her arm and knocking on the imaginary fucking door.
Anna's down at the bonfire as well, laughing and looking beautiful. "I cannot wait to get out!" she says in an interview. Then Brad and Shanna are in a photo booth, getting their pictures taken while they're kissing, and they're really cute. In an interview, Brad says that four years has been enough. Amen, sister. Seriously. Two years would have been enough of high school for me. Then Shanna's on-camera, saying that it's time for her to move on. "For graduation," says Morgan in an interview, "I know I've talked about this already --" Then he stops himself, shakes his head, makes a "boogedy-boogedy" sound and puts his hand on his face. Hee. I just love Morgan.
"Done with high school," says CrAbby in her car. "It's over." "I just can't believe it's over," says Saran-Wrap. "There's no real end," says Kaytee. "You know, unless I --" and then she strangles herself, indicating that there's no real end except for death. Man. I dig Kaytee the most.
Montage over, we move on to Pueblo's personal segment. Pueblo's saying that there was a whirlwind of problems at the last moment; all small, all petty, and BOOM it just exploded. He and his mother had a huge fight and that was it; he was kicked out of the house. He hasn't talked to his mother for over two weeks, but they're on relatively good terms, primarily because they don't live in the same house anymore. But Pueblo has to return home to discuss the college issue. So, Pueblo comes home for a College Summit with his mother.
Pueblo tries to explain to his mother that the reason he moved out wasn't just because they had a huge fight. "It was because I want to leave," he says. "Not because I don't like living here. I mean, I love Stephanie, and I want to be able to see her, as often as I can. I'm just gonna tell you what I want, and if you can help me, it would make my life wonderful." He loves Stephanie? Just Stephanie? Doesn't he love his mother too? Regardless of what they've gone through -- what a hellish life he's endured due to divorce or whatever -- doesn't he still love his mother? She's his MOTHER. Don't you think she'd like to hear that he loves her too, and not just Stephanie? I mean, if he's requesting that his mother help to make his life "wonderful," would an "I love you" to his mom hurt?
Mama Pueblo goes on to say that Pueblo's dad has proffered up the money for college. They kind of bicker back and forth until Mama says that this money is her money. "Then you keep it," mumbles Pueblo. "I can give you $250 a month," says his mother. Pueblo, looking absolutely forlorn and depressed, his hand entangled in his hair, says, "Mom, if you can give me less than that, then I'll be happy. If you can give me ten dollars a month, I'll be happy. It'll give me some food." "I tell you," says his mother, "$250 a month, that's what you're going to get." "You know what, Mom?" says Pueblo, his voice cracking with emotion. "If you don't want to give me $250 a month, I'm not even asking for five dollars. If you want to give me five dollars, then you're gonna give me five dollars." "Why you be upset?" asks his mother. "Mother, I'm upset for a lot of reasons," he responds, near tears. "I'm upset because I'm afraid of what it is that I'm gonna be doing with my life. Okay? That's why I'm upset."
And I now pass down the edict that Pablo has earned the right to be called by his given name. Anyone who shows so much emotion and pain and confusion while having a conversation with his mother about his future deserves the right to not have a snarky nickname. Yeah, I know he was basically asking his mother for money, but, you know, he's a clueless kid who doesn't know what he wants to do with his life. I'm kinda hoping he gets it together here. Christ, I graduated from The Theatre School at DePaul University and couldn't afford to live in an apartment because I didn't have a damn job, and I had to move home to live with my parents for eight months while I did temp work, and then I got a job and finally could afford to move into my own place. Being clueless isn't a crime. It sucks and all, but it isn't a crime. "Pueblo" will now be known as "Pablo." End of story.
Morgan's Mansion. Morgan and his buddy Gus are going through the yearbook and picking out betties they had crushes on during high school. "It just seems that, like, whenever something approaches," says Morgan in an interview, "trouble, like, occurs." Morgan would rather go through life living life and suffering the consequences, than just going through life being bored and living someone else's life. He wants everyone to know who he is. Morgan Moss: Intrepid High-School Diarist. Morgan's bud gets off Morgan's bed, because this going-through-the-yearbook thing is depressing him because he still wants to be a kid. Morgan says that he should just be a kid. "I'm never not a kid," says Morgan, employing a useful double negative.
Down in the Morgan Mansion kitchen, Morgan's pop is sitting at the kitchen table, talking about how he thinks this "graduation" thing is really going to happen. Provided that Morgan actually shows up for the rehearsal and the actual graduation ceremony and picks up his diploma. His mother pipes up and says that Morgan did a phenomenal job, and that "if you throw down the gauntlet to a kid like that he'll jump higher than you can expect him to." Back in Morgan's room, Morgan places one of his hamsters in his mouth. Why? I have no idea. Perhaps to test the Richard Gere theory that if you swallow a hamster, it might very well wind up in your ass. At least Morgan's not shoving the aforementioned hamster directly up his ass. Thank heaven for small favors.
Hallowed Halls of Highland Park High School. The Sunshine Lady informs us that the seniors have one more day of high school. God. Why are they even there? I'd be at the local Burger King ingesting deep-fried goodness if I were them.
Allie sticks her studded tongue out at the camera, and we're on to her personal segment. She says that high school has been a huge passage for her. Then, before we know it, we're on to Shanna's personal segment. She tells us that these past few weeks, it's all coming to an end. Then we're on to Tiffany's personal segment. Or, should I say, Tiffany's "let's wrap this up and re-introduce everyone to various characters of the show because they're graduating" segment. Look, I realize they've got a hell of a lot of kids to get through here but, you know, they've got AN HOUR. Try not to condense these kids into a beauty shot and a single sentence, you know? Tiffany says she's made a lot of mistakes and that she doesn't regret any of them.
Then we're back to Pablo, who's telling the camera that he doesn't even know why he came to class that day; that he probably just did it for sentimental value. And now to CrAbby, who is very excited and says that high school is now history and she's now going to college. On to Anna, who tells us that today is the last day of school but it hasn't really hit her yet.
The kids walk through the halls with their yearbooks, looking for people to sign them. Roadster and Saran-Wrap walk through the parking lot, talking about graduation. "I think Robby's and my relationship is probably one of the most mature, like, relationships in the high school," she says, as an arty montage of pictures of the two of them plays across the screen. She goes on to say how there's two of them but how they're one but they're still two and how he's going to go off to college and be one and she's going to be back at the high school being one and GOD! Shut up, Saran-Wrap! You don't have a "mature" relationship! You have a HIGH-SCHOOL relationship! It's not all that special. And I hope you realize that now. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that you DO realize that now. There's no such thing as a "mature" high-school relationship. And we don't need a judge's ruling on this. You're not mature enough in high school to deal with rent, responsibility, 401Ks, health insurance, or mortgages. You're only mature enough to deal with getting into college. That's it. Everything else comes later. So the idea of having a "mature" relationship in high school is pretty much a figment of your imagination. Deal.
And then we're on to the "drama" portion of the show, wherein Roadster and Saran-Wrap basically put on a skit that involves them talking about the future. As students and audience members gather for the performance, Saran talks about how she's been through a lot of shit in her life, and that as much as she wants to believe that it was all Robby who magically made her this person, she has just begun to realize that she did that for herself. "It was my thoughts and my actions that made me who I am today," says Saran-Wrap.
And here's the part where "Saran-Wrap" will now be referred to as "Sarah." Because, quite frankly, it was her portrayal as the clingy, whiny, girlfriend that prompted me to refer to her as "Saran-Wrap." And now that she's finally realized that Robby isn't the end-all be-all of human existence, she deserves to be called by her proper name. I warned you that I was going to wind up loving each and every one of these goddamn kids, didn't I?
So, Robby and Sarah perform this little skit that I will absolutely NOT put down in print. It's not terrible. It's not incredible. It's high school. In a VO, Roadster talks about how Sarah has grown up and how she was raised with a lot of love from her mother and a lot of bad shit from her father and how she has some sadness there. Roadster goes on to talk about how kids with problems often grow up to have problems in their adult lives, but that Sarah isn't going to be that kind of person. "I have faith that she's gonna grow up and she's gonna prove the cycle of life wrong and not continue this repeated cycle like most people continue," he says in an interview. "She's gonna fight it. Be strong."
It would appear that Robby (yes, his name, in this recap, will now be "Robby" -- and shut up, because he, with that last statement, just earned the right to be called by his given name) and Sarah have almost come to a mutual meeting of the minds in regard to their relationship. She's grown. He's grown. They're separating. They're both going to go on and become very interesting adult-type-people. And I am DIGGING this about the two of them. So maybe Sarah's statement about a "mature, like, relationship" isn't so far off. They both realize that long-distance relationships don't work, and they're both going to move on. Wicked. I mean, WICKED. That is SO cool. God. Why weren't there more Robby-types around when I was in high school?
Graduation rehearsal. All the kids grab their caps and gowns and head to a fleet of yellow buses. I think. Oh, wait. Kaytee and Pablo are entering the school, Pablo holding a piece of pizza and wearing a weird-ass hat; Allie enters through another portal and sees Salima (remember her?) and hugs her, and Salima waves at the camera and cringes as the boom hits her in the head and screams at the crew to "get away!" There's a definite bacchanalian sense to this episode. It's like the producers decided to crack open a box of wine and film while drinking from plastic cups.
Speaking of which...
Allie hugs a counselor after she informs the counselor that she's going to college. "Now that school is over," she says in an interview, "my relationship with my mother is going to be ten times better." It'll be better because all the nitty-gritty of everyday problems and situations will be over. "All that responsibility will be lifted off my shoulders," Allie says. Back in the hallway, Allie thanks the counselor profusely. The counselor, by the way, is wearing a red-checkered tablecloth for a dress. No, it's not important. Yes, it's extremely unattractive.
Now it's Brad's personal segment. And, considering how cool Brad is, I'm thinking the producers are actually going to give him more than three seconds. I'm right. Graduation won't be a sad thing for him; it'll be a happy thing. It's a celebration for him. In the Drop-In Center, Brad talks about how the junior and senior classes are, at large, fairly accepting of homosexuals, but that the underclassmen are sadly lacking in homosexual acceptance. Brad's worried that when "they" leave -- "they" being the upperclassmen homosexuals -- it's going to be a different place. The Drop-In Counselor tells Brad that he's not replaceable. That he's left his mark on this school.
The Counselor goes on to tell us that what he's learned from Brad is extraordinary. "He is my hero," says the Counselor. "I hope he knows the groundwork that he's laid for people who will come after him." Word. I wish there had been someone like Brad or someone like the Counselor (yes, I know he has a name, but I don't have the tape that tells us his name within reach at the moment, so cut me some slack, okay?) to be there for the various burgeoning gay men and women at my high school. I mean, my guidance counselor was a lesbian, but nobody, and I mean NOBODY, could talk about it. I knew. My parents knew. The staff knew. But nobody could talk about it. I had a couple of gay friends that I knew from theatre. Could they talk to anyone about this? No. How awesome would have been for them to have an "out" compatriot with whom they could discuss their problems? Or a counselor dedicated to helping them out with those problems? God. Lake Forest High School sucks ass.
Okay, so now we're on to Kiwi's personal segment. Kiwi's managed to get into Ball State (David Letterman's alma mater). A man I assume is the football coach accosts Kiwi in the hall and gives him shit about his chin pubes (read: attempt at a goatee). Coach comments on the t-shirt Kiwi's wearing; it bears the words "BALL STATE," thereby announcing to the world that Kiwi's actually been accepted at Ball State. Or he bought a t-shirt at their alumni shop. Kiwi bids Coach adieu, and then we switch to…
…the band room. Kaytee's sitting on the floor and occasionally punching fists with a couple of students. She lies down on the floor and puts what appears to be a furry lampshade on her head. She says in a VO that everyone's leaving and everything's going to change year. She's going to be a senior, and she keeps thinking that's going to be a good thing. But maybe not. In an interview in her room, Kaytee says, "I've had no luck with...boys...or...with...I mean, really, I'm not a great student. I'm really not. I can't study. I mean -- and then like songwriting -- I don't need to do that -- I don't need to keep pushing them out! Like, I'm giving birth to my songs!"
Awwww. Awwww. God, I love her. She's the most self-aware high-school student I've ever come in contact with. Seriously.
Oooh! Oooh! We're in a studio of some sort. And Kaytee's entering with her guitar! What is this? Kaytee's recording? Oh, dude. This rocks. So hard. Some guy asks Kaytee if she wants to record her own CD. She responds in the affirmative. He tells her that they're going to lay down some tracks. Kaytee, completely oblivious to the Almost Famous moment going on, turns to the window that looks over the recording space and says, "Is that where I go?" God, she's adorable.
So Kaytee records her song (or songs -- we're only privy to the recording of one song), and she's really, REALLY good. I'm not a huge fan of her kind of music, but she's incredibly talented and she knows her own voice. That's ENORMOUS as far as I'm concerned. She has something to say and she's saying it, goddammit! That's so cool. So cool. I didn't discover my voice until about five years ago and I'm STILL working on it. I'm thirty-two years old, people. I'm ancient! This kid discovered her voice at the ripe old age of seventeen! There's a reason Kaytee's never been given a nickname in these recaps. She doesn't need one. She's the coolest kid EVER. I hope she knows it.
Kaytee finishes recording her vocals over the guitar track she's laid, and the producer, eating what appears to be caramels, tells her that it was great and that they should listen to it. Kaytee sprints into the recording area, her little pixie cut flouncing out of control. Again, she's adorable.
Wow. We're in an amphitheatre, it would seem. Where the hell are we? Oh. My. God. We're at Ravinia. If you don't know Ravinia, then you're not from the Midwest. It's an outdoor concert arena where the likes of Harry Connick, Jr. and Poi Dog Pondering have played. Their graduation is HERE? Jesus. LFHS had their graduation on the goddamn football field! Man, we got screwed.
The kids put on their caps and gowns, and Pablo puts a Burger King crown on Anna and says, "You know, they expect ME to go up there like that, but they don't expect Anna Santiago to be the Burger King!" I didn't even know Anna and Pablo knew each other. Interesting. Anyway, the kids all futz with their caps and sit around and goof about graduating. Robby, in an interview, talks about how he wants to make a difference in this world. Some teacher or something tells the kids that they should, in order to safeguard against losing their tassels, wind their tassels around the top button on their robes. While the teacher or something is saying this, Pablo is using Anna's tassel as a stripper-type pastie and swirling it around and around. Anna, horrified that her tassel has spent more than two seconds in Pablo's hands, grabs it back from him, saying that her tassel is now "filthy." Word. Ew. And double ew.
In another area of the amphitheatre, Morgan's all, "If I can graduate, ANYONE can graduate." However, in a VO, he says that the only thing he's nervous about is graduating and going up on stage in front of everyone and their parents. "Of course, if I do graduate," says Morgan in a self-interview, "and pray God I do graduate, I'll probably be one of those kids that does a flip onstage or is naked underneath his gown and decides to moon the crowd, or something like that. 'Cuz if I'm goin' out of Highland Park High School, I'm goin' out with a bang." Heh. Heh heh.
Then CrAbby and her Florida friend are walking along the grassy Ravinia parking area, and CrAbby's going on about how she wasn't all fine at the graduation rehearsal and that she was a little too emotional. Dude. It's HIGH SCHOOL. It's not like you're joining the Peace Corps and will never see your family again. God. Can I hate her any more than I already do? Blah blah blah, CrAbby and Florida Friend are all talking about high school, blah blah blah, CrAbby's all, she and Brad were once inseparable, and now they never talk, blah blah blah, GET OVER HIGH SCHOOL, CRABBY. Man! I so wanna hit her with a wet towel right now. And not in the flirtatious locker-room way, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. I wanna leave a MARK.
Over at The House Of Non-Communication, Anna's hanging out with a friend and telling us that she and her father don't talk anymore. At all. I've recapped all these episodes and I've never really learned why Anna and her father don't talk. Did she, Anna, become impregnated by a wayward member of Blink-182? Did she rob a 7-Eleven of all their Twinkies and then run off into the night? Did she attempt to blow up the local library? No? Well, then. I'm all out of reasons why Anna and her father don't talk to each other.
Anna thinks that she shouldn't be the one to make the effort to re-open the closed-off relationship with her father. She thinks that HE should be the one who puts that foot in the door. "We're like two different people on two different planets," her father says, while driving along in his car. Yeah. You're fifty-some-odd years old, and she's eighteen. You're not different people on different planets. You're DIFFERENT AGES. And if you're not intelligent enough to realize that, well, frankly, that's too goddamn bad for you.
And now we're on the beach with Suzy and her father. They toss stones into Lake Michigan, and then Suzy makes a drawing in the sand and then rubs it out. Then, in a self-interview, she goes on about how she hopes that the people witnessing this show won't think that she's a complete and utter failure if she doesn't succeed at her dream of becoming an opera singer. She goes on to talk about her whole "Diva List" thing and how we shouldn't think she's crazy or anything. "Because," she says, "I know I'm atypical and everything, but, it's been a way to keep myself in order. So don't think I'm crazy or anything."
Dude. DUDE. We don't think you're crazy. We think you need a healthy dose of "YOU ROCK," but we don't think you're crazy. And was anyone else as disturbed by Suzy's excusing her on-camera behavior as much as I was? I mean, really. She's all apologetic about the viewers watching her through this year and then having to watch her potentially fail as an opera singer. Like we CARE if she fails or succeeds. We just want her to be happy! Am I right? I know I do. How insecure is she that she has to give us all a warning that she may not succeed as an opera singer? GOD! I just want to take her out for a few (dozen) margaritas and smack her across the face a couple of times with a frozen sea bass. Look, I know she's sweet and all, but her incessant mincing and whining about how she won't succeed and how she's not pretty and how she doesn't have a boyfriend is really setting me on my last fucking nerve. I certainly hope she's gotten her shit together. I mean it. Dude. I work about eight blocks away from Northwestern University. I'll trudge on over to the campus and go all ego-booster on her ass. Don't think I won't do it.
Pablo's in his love-mobile, moaning about how he's been alternating between staying at friends' houses and his father's house. For some reason, I assumed that Pablo's father lived in, like, Ecuador or something. I mean, he's never around, and Pablo never talks about him (unless he's complaining), so I just assumed he lived in a different country. Okay, whatever, because while I'm off wondering about the location of Pablo's father, Pablo's going on and on about how his mother's starting a new life and how it's a new beginning and a powerful end and sometimes you get lost in the middle. Yeah, I don't know what the hell he's talking about either.
The day, as the Ubiquitous Sunshine Lady is telling the kids that the staff is looking forward to seeing them graduate that night, Shanna approaches the school and sees fairly harmless graffiti drawn on the pavement in front of the main entrance. You know, "Seniors RULE" and "Seniors 2000," that kind of stuff.
Meanwhile, Morgan's dad is dropping Duncan off at school, and Duncan innocently asks if Morgan's going to graduate that night. Papa Morgan responds that no, Morgan will not be participating in either the graduation ceremony or the party afterwards. Duncan's all, "What NOW?" and rolling his eyes. Dad's all, "Morgan's a fucking idiot." Duncan's all, "No shit, Sherlock." It seems that Morgan and a couple of his buds were the ones responsible for the little art fair displayed on the school pavement. I know. You're thinking, "Dude. It's just some spray paint. Big fucking deal. And they didn't even use swear words!" That's what I was thinking. Unfortunately, they were caught in the act by Highland Park's finest. At, like, two in the morning.
So, Morgan's been suspended through graduation. How dumb is that punishment anyway? It must have been really difficult for the administrators to come up with that one. "Let's see...one more day of school...graduation's tonight...um...okay...BANNED FROM GRADUATION. BANNED FROM GRADUATION." "Right, but, I'll still graduate, right?" "What's that?" "I'll still graduate. I'll still receive my diploma." "Oh, yes. Right. Yes, of course." "I just won't be walking across the stage with a bunch of hysterical pre-college maniacs." "Uh...yes." "Great. Fine. Whatever. We done here? Because I desperately need a venti caramel macchiato."
Back at Casa de Morgan, Dad is going off on Morgan about how the rest of his friends are suiting up in their caps and gowns over at Ravinia, and this is the time for Morgan to think about what he's done. Morgan pretty much just stands there looking boldly defiant. As Dad exits the room, he gives his parting shot: "You're fucking up everyone else's life around you, Morgan! STOP IT. You only have a right to fuck your own up." Well put, Papa Morgan.
Down in the kitchen, Pops talks to Moms on the phone and tells her that, deep down inside, Morgan probably realizes that he fucked up, but he's not sure yet if Morgan really cares. Pops fills the Moms in on the situation and then says, "And I'm looking at these two bottles of wine and wondering whether I should drink one before you get home." Hee. That's what I'd do. Hell. I'd drink BOTH of 'em if I thought it would help. Or even if I thought it wouldn't help...
Upstairs, Morgan's cleaning his silver ball-bearing necklace and grudgingly saying he's sorry that people won't be able to see him graduate and all, and he's sorry that he did something stupid. Back down in the kitchen, the Pops is talking to the camera crew about how depressed the Moms is about the situation and how he doesn't really think Morgan is remorseful about his actions. Shocker. He's eighteen. Do YOU remember being remorseful about ANYTHING at eighteen? Hell, no. You're invincible. You can do any damn thing you want. Pops is lucky Morgan's even learned how to say the word "sorry." Seriously.
Then Pablo's blah-blahing about how his little sister is going to graduate that day too and he's going to see her be a big girl and then she's going to see him be a big boy. And maybe his mother will even let him wear the long pants and drive the car once around the driveway real slow! Shut up, Pablo. I just started liking you. Don't ruin it.
He goes on to say that she's been through a lot and that they've shared a lot of the trauma, and then he's taking pictures of Stephanie at her graduation (or "gradulation," as Stephanie refers to it), and she's wearing a little cardboard cap, and it's pretty damn cute, let me tell you. Her face is all smeared with chocolate and she's got a little rolled-up "diploma" and her chubby face is all smiley. Cute. Really cute.
Man. Pablo's losing the "like" factor already. He's going on and on and ON about how leaving home and leaving high school is like leaving four years of his life behind, four years that pretty much shaped what it is he'll be going for in the future and yet he's lost and blah blah blah shut-the-hell-up-cakes. It's high school, not a mission to Mars. Get a job at the mall and figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life. This ain't brain surgery, you know. It's pretty basic stuff.
Later that day, Robby and Sarah are walking along in the rain toward Ravinia. Robby leans over and whispers "I love you" in Sarah's ear. "That's a secret I've been wanting to tell you," he whispers. There are some women out there that appreciate those little cutesy-bootsie kind of moments. I am not one of those women. That shit just freaks me out. Not to mention that it totally annoys me. Show me, dude. Don't tell me. Sarah digs it, though, and kisses him on his shoulder to prove it. Yuck.
Allie, shocker, is late. The fact that Brett arrives at the same late moment as Allie signifies to Allie that she and Brett are, like, soulmates or something. No, Allie, you're both incapable of telling time. If that makes you, like, soulmates, well, then, Hank4 and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together and Wedge and I are completely unsuitable for each other. So, there goes that theory.
Scooter's driving along -- wearing his gown, by the way, which makes him look like a complete moron; like, BRING THE GOWN, SCOOTER, DON'T WEAR IT. He's such a nudge. Anyway, he's talking about school being over and how they're all moving on and going into the real world and becoming adults. As he says this, of course, he's chasing Kaytee into the amphitheatre like a baboon. Don't count on becoming an adult any time soon, Scooter. He puts his arm around Kaytee's shoulder and they walk together onto the stage where, I guess, they're both performing or something. They're kinda cute together. I think Kaytee can, and will, do better than Scooter, but right now they're still kinda cute.
Kaytee appears on-camera for a quick self-interview and talks about how people think she's matured a lot through high school, but she doesn't think she has. "I just got a new hairdo," she states. "I'm still just a kid." Have I told you lately that I love her? No, not in THAT way. I just wanna go shoot pool with her or something. She's hella-cool.
Time for some of that down-home pomp and circumstance. The kids all walk down the aisles, and I notice that not only do these kids get to have their graduation at fucking RAVINIA, but they have far better gowns than we did. Dude. Ours were FLAMMABLE. Dammit. CrAbby's on screen for a self-interview. Shut up, CrAbby. "You're only a kid once," she says. Did I say shut up? I see that I did. Still. SHUT UP.
The ceremony begins with the chorus singing their rendition of "Bridge Over Troubled Water." We cut to Morgan, brooding in his room. He hears a noise upstairs and calls out for his dad. No answer. Duncan. No answer. Duncan, again. No answer. He gets up and goes into his parents' room and his mom is there, sort of just staring at the bed. She looks at him for a second and then walks out of the room. "I'm still graduating!" shouts Morgan, looking after her. Yeah, and you don't have to wear a stupid hat with a tassel and walk across a stage in order to do so, either.
"I feel like he robbed me," says his mother, down in the Kitchen of Despair. She goes on to say that this day wasn't just for him, but for them as well. Whatever. He's not in the damn ceremony. So what? Yeah, he did something irretrievably stupid and juvenile. No arguments there. Wanna know what the dumbest thing about his little prank is? HE GOT CAUGHT. If he didn't get caught, he'd still be going through the ceremony and everyone would be all happy. So what. Everyone's disappointed. We get it. Let's move on.
Back at the ceremony, Suzy's singing her solo. She's got some work to do on that voice. You know what I hate most about opera singers? They seem incapable of just SINGING. Like, she's singing a portion of a Simon & Garfunkel song -- it's not freakin' WAGNER over here. Just sing like a normal person, Suze! And it's Ravinia, not the Met. Bring it down a notch.
But then Suzy's being all sweet and earnest in a self-interview where she's all psyched for the future and she hopes she's going to wind up being a cool person and have a cool life and she's gonna go out there and kick ass. Awwww...
Anna goes up to read off the names of the graduates. She tells us in a self-interview that she's so excited to finally be finishing high school. Everyone's excited to be leaving high school. Get it? Got it? Good.
Now, here's the part where the various students that we've come to know and love (or hate, in CrAbby's case) all cross the stage and pick up their diplomas. Back in Morgan's room, he's STILL bitching about how he doesn't understand why he has to suffer so much just because he's not getting his diploma by walking across a stage. His dad is down in the Kitchen of Despair, saying that the whole walking-across-the-stage thing doesn't really matter to him. "There are so few moments that Mary and I can sort of look at each other and say, for a second, 'We did something right. We finally got to this point. And then we're ready for the battle.' This was a bad one to have taken away," he concludes. I feel for the Pops and the Moms. This really must have sucked for them. I'm sure they just wanted a single moment in time where they both weren't contemplating sending Morgan off to Siberia with nothing but a toothbrush and a pair of antique snowshoes.
The kids continue crossing the stage. Brad, Brett, wait -- is that Teddy the Tard? Ew. And here's where it looks like the producers are dipping into the B-M pool again, because they show a cut shot of Kaytee looking pathetic right after Tard crosses the stage. The hell? Did that really happen? You can't tell me that the camera guys were so on top of it that, when Tard crossed the stage, they had a camera in place to capture Kaytee's reaction. Right. Let's assume that her "reaction" wasn't a "reaction" at all but just an innocent facial expression that had nothing to do with Tard. Or maybe she had a bean burrito for lunch, and she has to cut the cheese but doesn't want to do it while she's onstage in front of everyone, and therefore she's holding it in and it's giving her a pained expression. Maybe that's it.
And here's the part where Pablo tries to graduate with "dignity and honor" by ditching his cap in favor of a laurel wreath. Yeah, it's dumb. Doesn't matter how ridiculous it is, or how lame he looks -- the teachers aren't letting him walk across the stage wearing it. They actually surround him and force him to take the laurel wreath off because they're all under the misguided impression that Pablo's trying to play some sort of joke. Come on. What does it matter what's on his head? It's a silly, inane gesture, and it's making him REALLY upset that you're not letting him do this. He thinks this little wreath is going to announce to the world that he's HIMSELF and no one else. Yeah, he's delusional. Yeah, he's gonna look hilarious. But let him do it -- it's no reflection on the school. It's a reflection of what a tool Pablo sometimes is.
Back at Misery Mansion, Morgan's mom waxes philosophical with an allegory that equates kids and their failures with "creatures" and "falling." No, I don't know what she's talking about. Let's just assume that she's disappointed in Morgan. Like he cares. He's upstairs lighting candles and contemplating his navel.
Graduation Gulch. The kids did it. They're all done. They're all hugging each other. Allie and her mother hug. Allie and her father hug. Kaytee and Scooter hug. Morgan and his mother hug. No, they're not at graduation. We've just cut to them hugging in Morgan's room. Moms is begging Morgan to come to dinner with them. One minute she's Angst-Ridden Annie down in the kitchen, and the she's pleading with her son to join them? Yet another editing coup from the makers of American High. Morgan rants on and on about how he's not going out to dinner with them because of this, that, and the other thing, and that he did something stupid and he got caught and blah-dee-blah-dee-blah. "This isn't about that," says Moms, wondering if she should poke her son with a knitting needle and then remembering that she doesn't knit and wondering if a dull knife will do. "This is about dinner."
Allie shows off her diploma. "I'm closing the chapter to high school," she says, closing the diploma. "And then I walk away, and then there's my new beginning." That statement would have had a lot more power if she hadn't WALKED RIGHT INTO A POLE. BWA HA HA! BWAAAAA HA HA! Hee. Hee.
Pablo walks away from the ceremony toward his car. "Single most important and single least important moment of my life," he says. Oh, whatever. Sometimes he's just too much for me to take. And he was all about graduating with "dignity and honor" before when he wanted to shove a laurel wreath on his head. How dignified is it, I ask you, to wear BIG BAGGY-ASSED CARPENTER JEANS to your graduation? Denim soooo doesn't say "honor" to me. It says "lazy-ass moron without a single pair of khakis in his closet."
Over at Anna's place, friends and family gather around the kitchen table while The Man Who Says Little thanks the dear Lord that Anna graduated. TMWSL says in an interview that he doesn't want Anna to go off to college and harbor bad feelings toward him. Too late, dude. Freakmama tells TMWSL that it's easier for him to tell Anna his feelings by writing her a song. The hell? Oh, God. This is gonna be SO bad. Everyone's gathered in the living room and TMWSL switches on the stereo, saying, "Here's a song I wrote for you, Anna."
I will not transcribe this song. It's awful. It's really awful. I mean, it's a nice gesture and all, but, you know, it's SO not what Anna needs. He basically sings about how she's graduating and leaving and he wishes they could start over and, you know, this is really something he should have given to her to listen to in private instead of carting it out for her to listen to in front of everyone. Or, you know, he could, like, TALK TO HER. Anna, for her part, sits there, lips pursed, acting all icy and not looking at anyone. Anna needs to jump down off that Trojan high horse she's been riding on and cut her dad just a wee bit of slack. Yeah, the song's annoying, and he should be talking instead of singing his feelings, but, you know, appreciate that he's trying to reach out, even just a little. TMWSL observes that Anna doesn't respond to anything he says or composes, and what if, in a few years, the song becomes a hit? Then Anna can say, "Hey, my dad wrote that for me." Dude? That song will NEVER become a hit. And, dude? TALK TO HER. She doesn't need a hit song; she needs a FATHER. Get with the program.
Pablo heads home and talks to his mother about how his father is mad about something and that's why he didn't come to the graduation ceremony. What? He didn't? And it looks like Pablo's mom didn't go either, because she's sick in bed or something. She went to Stephanie's damn graduation and she was suddenly too sick to go to Pablo's? No wonder they don't get along. The only family member at Pablo's graduation was Stephanie. That's really, really sad.
Pablo mentions to his mom that his dad is coming over and this is the absolute last time Pablo's going to ask his dad for money. His mom rolls her eyes in disgust at Pablo's blatant attempts to extort cash from his loved ones. Just how much cash does this kid need? Does he have a child to support that we don't know about? Rent? Mortgage? Car payments? What a little pisher.
La familia Morgan gathers at a restaurant, and Pops proposes a toast to graduating and starting a new way of doing things tomorrow.
Allie and her mother are out at some ritzy restaurant with a bunch of friends. Allie's mom proposes a toast to Allie and, through occasional tears, manages to get out that, after all the crap they've been through together, she wishes that Allie the best future that she can have. It's a very sweet moment. Yes, I'm sniffling. No, that doesn't mean I'm a wuss.
Pablo and Stephanie and Pablo's father all head out for a post-graduation celebration at the glamorous local McDonald's. As the drive-thru clerk hands Pablo the change, Pablo asks his dad if he can keep the nine dollars in change because he's going out that night. His dad's all, "Whatever, dude." They take their Happy Meals and park it on a bench down by the lake. It would seem that Pablo's padre hasn't even congratulated Pablo yet. Pablo attributes this to the "long distance" between him and his father. I attribute it to the fact that Pablo's father sucks.
Back at Pablo's pad, he hugs his father, and before his father can escape, Pablo manages to ask for yet more money. Nice, dude. You clamped onto the Happy Meal change and now you're asking for another ten bucks. Classy, dude. Real classy.
A few days later, Morgan's in his kitchen with his bud, Gus, and he's holding up a glass of orange juice and saying, "May the time we go to paint a school, may we not be caught!" Heh. Gus echoes this sentiment and they clink glasses. Morgan and Gus get dressed up in their caps and gowns, and Morgan's folks take pictures of the kids with their police case numbers held up in front of them. Hee! Hee hee. That's damn funny, people. Way to have a sense of humor about the situation. I'm serious. That's really awesome.
And now here's the part where the camera slides down the Hallowed Halls of Highland Park High as little blips of dialogue from the past year filter through and different snippets of various self-interviews fade in and out.
And then it's over.
Wait. It's not. Kaytee's singing a hilarious little song about the making of American High. As she sings, we see the producers and the director and the production crew and the camera men all goofing around and being silly. It's pretty fun, actually. And Kaytee's song is fairly wicked.
Now it's over.
Wait. It's not. It's time for the "Where Are They Now?" segment of the show.
Oh. That's clever. They reproduce the white-on-black intro screen, only this time it says, "Nearly one year after filming, the students in American High were given video cameras. We asked them to tell us where they are now, and to share their feelings about the show."
Here goes.
Brad. Our favorite non-closet-dwelling high school student is attending New York University. Life couldn't be better, and Brad's got a lot of gay friends now. No. Really? In New York? They don't have homosexuals in New York. He's probably just joking.
Pablo. He took some time off college. I didn't even know he was going to college but, you know, whatever. He's running his mother's company. His mom remarried, and Pablo moved in with his father. Or his mom remarried his father and his father moved in. I can't really tell. He also found religion. It was right underneath the big-screen TV all this time -- who knew? He's also clean. I assume he means drugs and not, like, his hygiene.
Kaytee. She's still at Highland Park High School. Although, now that it's June of 2001, she's probably graduated already. She's going to college and doesn't know what she's going to study. A side note -- she also performs around the Chicago area. I don't know where or when, but I know she does. She might be playing at the Potbelly's in Evanston sometime soon. I'll have to check that out...
CrAbby. Shut up. She's at University of Illinois. She's happy. Shut up.
Shanna. She's at Ohio State University and she has a boyfriend. He's met the parents already. She's prettier than ever.
Kiwi. He's at Ball State University, and the most exciting thing that's happened since he's been there is that he kicked a field goal down in Florida in front of 84,000 people. As he's talking, someone enters the dorm room, and Kiwi turns the camera around to show a kid with a pizza. Yeah. Kiwi's having a pretty typical college jock experience.
Anna. Anna's at Colgate University, and the biggest difference in her life is that she's put on the Freshman Fifteen. Oh. That was mean. I'm sorry. The biggest difference, according to her, is that her attitude has changed. Anna talks about how she's a young woman now and pulls her buddy Greg into the camera view. He's damn cute, too. "You're only young once," says Greg, to no one in particular. "That's a quote for Morgan," says Anna. Hee. Nice way to segue into Morgan's update...
Morgan. Morgan's at Columbia College, and he wants to make movies or star in movies. He's gone through some changes this past year, and he's discovered that you can't just fuck off homework anymore. "I mean, you can," he says, "but that would be, like, a waste of money." Good. He's finally learned something.
Allie. She's attending Fort Lewis College, but there's no personal update from her.
Suzy. Suzy's attending Northwestern University. Again, no personal update. I'm assuming that this is either because she's too busy giving Leontyne Price a run for her money, or she wasn't pleased with the way she was portrayed on the show and didn't want to give any commentary.
Tiffany. She's still a senior at HPHS. I mean, she's a recently graduated senior. No personal update.
Robby. He's at the University of Colorado.
Sarah. See Tiffany.
And now a student montage. The kids all talk about how, for the most part, being on American High was awesome. They thought it was weird that people came up to them on the street, but they also kind of liked it. They found the experience very therapeutic and cathartic, and Kaytee's grandma is really proud of her. Hee.
And NOW it's over. No. It's really over this time.
Peace out. Word to your moms.