Props to regular F&G recappers Maggie and Cate, for letting me trespass on their turf one last time. Further props to the Fox Family Channel for picking up the remaining episodes and agreeing to (maybe) make more. (I never thought I'd give props to a station that syndicates Early Edition. It's a funny old world, isn't it?)
As ONTV (the Canadian station that carries F&G) takes over the NBC feed, there's a moment of wavy disruption, and then we see Cindy, sitting beside Sam at the Weir dinner table, saying something that sounds like, "Well, if I were them, I'd be the nervous ones [sic]. I wouldn't shop at that big mega-store if you paid me." Dad Weir looks pleasantly surprised that he should agree with one of his children's friends, and exclaims, "Ooh, I like this girl! Isn't she great, Lindsay?" Caught off-guard, Lindsay diffidently agrees that Cindy is "great." Mom Weir addresses Cindy and says she hears that something exciting is happening at school this week. Cindy confirms the rumour and primly announces, "Vice-President George Herbert Walker Bush is coming to our school to speak at an assembly in the cafeteria." Mom Weir looks pleased at having such a well-spoken young Stepford daughter at her table; it must be quite a change from having Nick boarding with them. Dad Weir blusters that he'd love to find a way to get the veep to shop at his store, since "you can't pay for that kind of publicity." Sam, who is wearing a grey shaker-knit sweater with black armbands that could have been plucked from my cousin Chris's 1980 closet, gives Cindy a little free publicity by declaring that Cindy's post as the head of McKinley's Young Republicans confers upon her the honour of introducing the Vice-President at the assembly. Mom Weir marvels at what a big honour it is, and for some reason invites Lindsay to agree with her. Lindsay -- once again, sounding like she wishes she could be excluded from the conversation -- replies that it is an honour, "if you're a Republican." "Oh, and you're not?" snorts Dad Weir. Lindsay shirtily informs him that she's a Democrat. Dad Weir scoffs, "You know, everyone's a Democrat until they get a little money. Then they come to their senses." I have to say that's true, in my experience, though that's not exactly how I'd phrase it. When I first saw Roger & Me (about ten years after its release -- hey, I was just a kid when it came out!), I watched it with my mom, who was at the time and still is a pretty highly-placed HR VP at a rapidly expanding data services company, which means that a considerable portion of her duties is to...well, fire people. So here I was, in my last year as an undergrad, watching R&M and feeling all fired up at the social injustice of so many honest, working-class people getting laid off as GM moved their operations out of Michigan and into Mexico, and trying to get my mom to agree at how wrong that was (particularly since at the time we lived in St. Catharines, Ontario -- basically, Flint, Michigan North -- a GM town that was losing factories every year), and I was appalled when she started making arguments in favour of the corporation's business decisions. I don't know what else I expected, since she wasn't Union, and hadn't been for years -- she was Management. It was much the same disconnecting experience my friend Doppelganger told me she had when she watched Office Space, and laughed uproariously at Peter's travails, only to be pulled up short when her husband, Sugar Larry, pointed out that as a partner in her web development firm, she wasn't a Peter anymore: She was a Lumbergh. In conclusion, much as we may not want to admit it when we're in high school or college...Dad Weir's observation does tend to be accurate.
Okay, so in the time it took me to tell that story, the opening credits and commercials ran, and when we come back to the show, Cindy and a bunch of blow-dried Girl Republicans are gingerly carrying a hand-painted banner welcoming Vice-President Bush down the hall. They pass four dark-suited men (who are trying to blend but are obviously Secret Service agents) walking in the opposite direction; the agent in the lead is wearing dark glasses. The posse starts up a flight of stairs, beneath which the Freaks, as is their custom, are loitering. The agent pulling up the rear stops on a low step, leans into the alcove to inspect the Freaks, then continues on his way. A nonplussed Ken mutters, "What, are the Blues Brothers doing a show in town tonight?" Daniel tells him about George Bush's imminent visit. "The porn star?" Nick asks. He was? How did that youthful indiscretion stay out of the "character issue" debates? Ken patiently tells Nick who George Bush is, just as Lindsay and Amy (the sideburn-stroking tuba player) roll up and say hi. Ken beams at the sight of Amy, who makes a beeline for him; he fondly puts his arm around her shoulders, and then asks her what's wrong. She tells him she's nervous because the band will be playing "Hail to the Chief" before Bush speaks and "there's a lot of tuba." Lindsay assures her that Bush probably doesn't know anything about the tuba (uh, you could have stopped after "anything," babe). Ken teases Amy by mimicking the sound of "Hail to the Chief" played on an out-of-tune tuba. Mr. Kowchevski appears at the bottom of the stairs and wearily tells everyone to get out of the alcove. Daniel whines, "Since when?" and Kowchevski says that the Secret Service wants all these areas cleared out for the veep's visit. The Freaks slowly collect themselves and make to leave as Daniel deadpans, "How're we ever going to plan our coup?" Daniel knows the word "coup"? Mr. Kowchevski sternly tells him not even to joke about it: "I could get you thrown in jail just for saying that." Daniel actually looks nervous at this information. Ken and Amy are the last to leave; she tells him she has to practise now, anyway. He asks if she wants to hang out after school, and she tells him she'll have to practise then, too, and that he's "a bad influence." "So, I'll see you at 6:30?" Ken asks, smoothly. Amy smirks. They smooch. Amy is adorable.
Bill and Neal sit alone at their table in the cafeteria. The camera rests on them, straight on, as they monitor another table, from which we hear Cindy's voice yammering about "the game." Sam is sitting between her and Todd, looking morose. Gordon and Harris join Bill and Neal. Gordon asks, "What's happening?" and, as peals of laughter rise from the jock/cheerleader table, Bill sadly replies, "We don't know. It's all going on over there." The camera cuts to the j/c table to reveal Sam looking uncomfortable. Harris remarks, "Once you start down that dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. At least, that's what Yoda always says." Neal and Bill can't muster the strength to answer, and just stare at the j/c table, where Cindy is in the process of declaring, "I mean, not all cheerleaders have to be pretty, but their cheerleaders aren't even remotely pretty. I mean, they're dirty." Vicki gesticulates with a french fry as she enumerates all the ways in which the reportedly "dirty" cheerleaders are "disrespectful."
Sam is so bored, he's practically catatonic. Some random jock we've never seen before (as far as I can recall) observes, "Hey, not all our cheerleaders are pretty." Todd snorts, "You can say that again." Cindy tells him to shut up, and Todd tells Cindy he wasn't talking about her: "How about you get over yourself?" Were people using that expression in 1980? I mean, I wasn't, because I was in grade one, but were teenagers? Sam tries to will himself into invisibility. Cindy, staring at the table, murmurs, "Sam, you're not going to defend me?" Sam hisses that Todd wasn't talking about her. "So you're just going to let it go?" Cindy prods. Todd -- who is wearing A LOT of blusher and eyeliner -- barks at Cindy, "Would you stop? I like Sam. What -- do you want to see us fight?" Random Jock drawls, "I'd like to see that." Sam glances around shiftily. Cindy poutily eats her pudding. You know, I never really shared Cate's intense animosity toward Cindy before; I always found Cindy to be boring but essentially benign. But clearly Cate is a far better judge of character than I. Cindy sucks.
Bill and Neal play Mousetrap -- a game my aforementioned cousin Chris had that I always coveted, and which he always claimed was too boring to play with me. Bill wins, and gloats a little, and Neal dryly says, "Maybe you can get the school to start a team!" Suddenly we see that Sam is also present, and apparently very sad. Bill kindly reassures him, "Sam, don't worry, it's just a game. I mean, I'm good at Mousetrap, and you're really good at Kerplunk." Sam tells him that he's not upset about the game: "It's just this thing with Cindy." Neal and Bill look quizzical, and Sam blurts, "She's kinda...she's kinda boring!...It's weird hanging out with her friends. I mean, all she ever wants to do is make out and stuff." Neal mutters, "I'd kill to be that bored!" Bill posits, "Maybe you're not doing this right. I mean, aren't you supposed to go out on dates and stuff?" Sam says that they went to the mall twice, and to a football game once, and then to a different mall. Neal says, "That sounds fantastic!" Bill suggests, again, that Sam take Cindy on a date, and that he plan to do something that he (Sam) enjoys. Sam sighs, "But what if she doesn't want to do what I want to do?" Bill wisely asks, "Then why are you going out with her?" Before Sam can answer, Neal spits, "Because she's a goddess! Am I the last sane man on this godforsaken planet? Hey, pass her over here! [Nice, Neal.] I'd move to the mall if she wanted me to." Sam exhaustedly says that he'll ask Cindy on the date Bill suggests, and, for good measure, tells them both to shut up.
Ken and Amy recline on a bed in a pink-painted room with delicate white furniture. I'm going to go ahead and assume that it's her room, and she proves me right by asking him why they never hang out at his house. Ken says it's because he hates it there. Amy asks, "Really?" and Ken fondly scoffs, "Yes, 'really.' How come everyone always thinks I'm joking all the time? It's something to do with my voice, isn't it?" Amy laughs quietly and then says, "I mean, your parents seem so nice." Ken considers this, and then allows, "No, they're not bad people. They're good at their jobs. I guess...I guess raising me wasn't one of the things they learned to do in college." Amy asks how, then, he turned out to be "such a great guy." "Am I?" Ken asks, with genuine surprise and pleasure, and continues, "I don't know. I was raised by a nanny. Yeah. Catherine. She was pretty -- she was pretty great. She was the best mommy money could buy." Amy says she didn't know that, and very seriously adds, "I'm glad you told me." Ken sort of verbally shrugs. Amy says, "I think it's important that we tell each other everything, don't you?" Ken agrees. Amy sits up, facing him, and says she wants to tell him something about herself: "It's really important, so you gotta promise me you won't freak out." Ken sits up too, and affably says that he's "pretty hard to freak out." Amy tells him she's serious, and asks him to promise. Ken starts to appreciate that she's about to tell him something big, and offers, "I can try to promise. If you killed someone or something --" "No. You know, forget it," she says. Ken apologizes. Amy visibly screws up her courage and says, "Well...this isn't really that uncommon, but...but, when I was born, I had the potential to be male or female." Ken, not getting it, says, "Yeah, you too?" Amy looks down and continues, "No, I mean -- I mean, I was born with both...with both male and female parts." "Uh huh," says Ken, more or less steadily. Amy concludes: "My parents made a decision with the doctors that I should be a girl. I mean, thank god, because that's who I am. But it's still a really big part of my life. And I thought you should know." Ken, just a little too cheerily, says, "No, this is...good...that you told me...this." Amy smiles wanly and asks if he's freaking out. After a beat, he replies, "No! You know? You're all -- you're all girl now..." "Yeah!" she confirms enthusiastically. Ken stammers, "Yeah, so [he taps her gingerly on the knee and quickly withdraws his hand], you know, it's okay, you know? It's, uh, you know...if I was datin' you when you were just born, things, uh, might be a little different." Amy chuckles a little, with relief, and Ken concludes, "But, nah, you're all girl now, so, it's...okay." Quietly, she says, "Thanks, Ken." He says, "Yeah! You know. I had my appendix out? So, you know, I've been there." Amy lets out a delighted peal of laughter. I love Amy. Did I mention that?
Okay, what is with this sudden rash of commercials in which one type of animal advises meat-eaters to consume another type of animal? First it was the Chicken Run chickens telling people to eat Whoppers. Now there's a lobster telling Red Lobster patrons to eat steak. Shouldn't there be a little meat-animal solidarity in suggesting that carnivorous humans eat salad, or something? I mean, I eat meat -- and do so without any guilt -- but it seems wrong to me that animals should sell each other out for advertising purposes.
In his office, Mr. Rosso excitedly tells Lindsay he's about to make her day. He holds up a picture of George Bush (accompanied by Ronald Reagan), and tells her that he's arranged for her to ask Bush the first question in the "informal" Q&A at the assembly. Lindsay, dismayed, whines that she doesn't want to do it. He asks why. She says, "Because! I'm a Democrat!" Mr. Rosso asks, "So?" Lindsay says that she wouldn't have voted for Reagan if she'd been old enough: "Why would I want to talk to his lackey?" Sarcastically, Mr. Rosso replies, "Gee, I don't know, uh, maybe because he's the second most powerful man on earth? Maybe because we live in a country where you can actually question our leaders without fear of being hacked to death by a machete?" (Ah, a fear with which all Canadians live, daily.) Lindsay tries to backpedal, and he says, "Hey, you know what? Forget it. I don't want you to talk to the Vice-President. There are plenty of people here who actually care about their country. I guess me and my hippie friends [the last bit spoken in a stoned voice and accompanied by flamboyant arm gestures] were all just wasting our time in Berkeley demonstrating and stopping an unjust war. Probably shouldn't have bothered." Lindsay sputters, "Okay, Mr. Rosso -- stop!" Mr. Rosso's whole demeanour changes from sarcastically affronted to deliriously thrilled as he bends at the knees and leans forward to implore her, "Come on, Lindsay, I was so excited for you to do it! You're a special person and it's your destiny -- if you like it or not -- to be interacting with world leaders." Lindsay is nearly moved, and suspiciously asks, "Do you really believe that?" Mr. Rosso warmly replies, "You bet I do." Lindsay says she'll do it. Mr. Rosso practically wets his pants with glee: "I've got the best job in the world! Twelve grand a year and I'm overpaid." Just then, Ben Stiller -- in dark suit and glasses, playing the world's littlest Secret Service agent (seriously, he's about an inch taller than Lindsay) -- appears in the doorway and asks Lindsay and Mr. Rosso to get out of the office. Mr. Rosso asks if there's a problem, and Agent Stiller says they just need to inspect and cordon off these areas until after Bush's visit. Mr. Rosso cautiously asks where he's supposed to work. Agent Stiller officiously replies, "Sorry, sir, that's not my problem." As they file out, Mr. Rosso stage-whispers to Lindsay, "Isn't this exciting?" Agent Stiller directs his partner to "sweep" the left side of Mr. Rosso's office, and then, watching Mr. Rosso's departing figure, he tells a microphone in his sleeve, "Crockpot, you need to get a visual on that bogey. He's coming at you, about six foot three, real Dr. Feelgood look."
Amy and Ken walk through the hall. Her arms are tightly wrapped around her books, and Ken's hands are clenched at his sides; in short, they share none of the casual physical affection we saw in the scene under the stairs. Struggling to make conversation, Ken comes up with, "Wow, it's sixth period already." "Yep," Amy says, disappointed in him. Ken asks her whether she had a good lunch. She says the cafeteria food looked gross, so she had an apple. Ken informs her that "it was actually pretty good, if you like Salisbury steak." Riveting! Amy smiles sadly. The bell rings. She says she has to get to Math; he has Chemistry. They lean toward each other but instead of a cute peck, like the one they exchanged earlier, Ken slowly puts his arms around her and hugs her awkwardly, as if she'd just received some bad news and he didn't know any other way to comfort her. She goes up the stairs, and Ken calls after her, "Give you a call," then rolls his eyes at his own ineffectuality.
Lindsay and Kim sit adjacent to a doorway, under a plaque. Lindsay asks Kim what she should ask Bush. Kim declares that Lindsay should ask him something really tough and put him on the spot: "What would he not want to talk about?" Please, someone raise the subject of his idiot sons. Lindsay replies, "They say that Reagan had Iran delay the release of the hostages until after he was elected." Kim insists that Lindsay ask Bush about that. Lindsay adds that she wants to talk about trickle-down economics, but Kim says that's boring, snatches Lindsay's notebook away from her, and says, "I want to ask him about the aliens at Roswell," which is funny because in real life, Busy Philipps is dating Brendan Fehr, who stars on Roswell. Lindsay grabs her book back, laughing.
Cindy enters the Bio classroom, where Sam is already sitting. He distractedly asks, "How's it going?" and she perks that she thinks she's going to get a B in Math. Sam plainly doesn't care, and mumbles the question to which he'd been leading: "Cindy, I was kinda thinking that maybe you'd like to go out on a date with me -- like, a real date? You know?" Cindy fondly giggles, "Sam, you're so sweet! Of course I'll go out on a date with you." Sam says, "Yeah?" with some disbelief. Cindy suggests, "All the football players are going to these batting cages, like this Goofy Golf-type place, and then afterwards they're going to go swim in this lake. Doesn't that sound like fun?" Uh. No. Dismayed, Sam explains, "Well, actually, I was thinking that maybe I could plan the date. I'd take you out. It'd be my surprise. It'd be on me. You know?" Cindy says she gets it: "You want to take your girlfriend on a date, like a real gentleman." I think if Cindy really tried her hardest, she could be more condescending. But she might rupture something. Sam half-smiles. Cindy says, "You know what? I think that's really romantic." Sam scoffs. Run away!
Ken and Amy sit silently outside the school at a picnic table, watching soccer practice. Finally, Amy breaks the deadlock: "I can't take this anymore. Why are you acting like this?" "Acting like what?" Ken asks. Amy points out that he can't even look at her. Deliberately (and reluctantly), Ken turns his head toward Amy and growls, "I'm looking at you." Accusingly, Amy asks, "What are you thinking about what I told you?" Ken says, "Nothing. You told me, and I'm fine with it." Amy leaps to her feet in front of Ken, forcing him to look at her, and snaps, "You're not fine with it! You're acting completely weird!" Ken protests, "Well, I don't think I am! How am I supposed to act after you tell me something like that?" Amy admits, "I don't know. But you're not reacting at all." Ken says he doesn't know what to say: "There's nothing I can do! I can't change it!" Amy calls him a jerk. Ken begs, "Amy, tell me what to say, because clearly you have something in mind." She asks him if he still likes her, and, a bit too emphatically, he replies, "Yeah! Of course I like you, still." Amy asks, further, if he "can live with this." Ken says, "Live with what? It's over. You know? Move on." Amy blinks slowly and tells him, "You don't understand. It's not that easy. No matter what the doctors did, there's always going to be some part of me that's..." "A guy?" Ken finishes for her. Amy flinches and tells him to forget it. Ken looks very confused.
In a primitive computer lab, Gordon declaims, in a poncy British accent, "If it were me, I'd take her to a Broadway show." Sam sneers, "Broadway? We're in Michigan." "Dinner theatre?" Gordon offers. Bill says that The Jerk is playing at the discount theatre. Neal opines that that option isn't very romantic, but Harris argues, "Laughter is the ultimate aphrodisiac. Get a woman laughing, and you've got a woman loving." If that's true, I'm on fire, over here. Neal tells Sam to get Cindy a really good present. Bill says that Sam should make her something, "like out of papier maché." Like what -- a piñata? Gordon enthusiastically agrees on the grounds that "it's from the heart." Sam asks Harris what sorts of gifts he usually gets Judith. Harris, in his usual clipped deadpan, replies, "Judith has very particular tastes. About the only thing she ever wants is scented oils and plenty of time with her man." The last bit is delivered with a slightly lascivious smirk, and the rest of the assembled Geeks all groan loudly, in protest against the flagrant TMI. Bill shudders elaborately, and I laugh myself into a frenzy of -- according to Harris's theory -- burning desire.
Sam sits on his bed as Mom Weir tells him she has the perfect gift for Cindy. Concealing it in her cupped hands, she says that Sam's grandmother gave it to her when she was "just about Cindy's age," and that it is "an heirloom." She opens her hands and unfurls a pendant on a chain I'd say is probably stainless steel; the pendant is an opaque black stone surrounded by stainless-steel filigree. It's not the most hideous piece of jewellery I've ever seen, but it does look very Gothic, and so heavy and pointy that it could probably really injure the person who wore it if she leaned on it wrong. Also, given that Cindy is probably a fan of Love's Baby Soft cologne (and given the cashmere sweaters we've already seen her wear in two consecutive episodes), her taste in jewellery probably runs more toward those gold-plated "Best Friends" charms from Consumer Distributing that you break apart, so that you can be "Be Fri" and your chosen mate can be "st ends." That, or maybe those "Faith, Hope, Charity" charms you could get cheap at religious stores. Or, when she gets a little older, "Live Love Laugh" with maybe a tiny diamond chip in the "o" of "Love." But I digress. Mom Weir says of the Goth pendant that when it was bestowed upon her, she thought "it was the most elegant thing [she'd] ever seen," and that if Sam's grandmother had known how important Cindy was to him, she would want Sam to have it, and that Mom Weir herself wants him to have it. Sam grins at the necklace. Mom Weir adds, "After all, this is your first love." Sam thanks her. She ruffles his hair. Aw. Little does Sam know the ignominy to which his gift will be subjected once it's given.
Ken, Nick, and Daniel lounge in a darkened room; it's impossible to tell whose basement it is. I feel we may safely assume that they're enjoying a post-joint moment of silence. Ken announces, "I think I'm going to break up with Amy." Nick asks why. Ken says he doesn't think they're right for each other. Nick is surprised, and says, "I thought you two were sort of a perfect couple." Me too! Ken sighs loudly, and heavily says, "Okay, look, I'm going to tell you guys something now, and you have to promise not to be jerks about it, and not to tell anyone, ever, okay?" Daniel and Nick, lying on the floor, glance toward each other and agree. Ken declares, "Amy's not really a girl." Nick asks, "What?" Ken explains, "I mean, you know, she's a girl; she's...she's kinda...she's kinda part guy, too." Daniel asks what that means. Very slowly (wise, considering his audience), Ken says, "It means that, when she was born, she was packing both a gun, and the holster." Nick considers this, then asks, "Um. Well, does...does she still have, you know, the gun?" Ken quickly informs them that "the doctors took care of it." Nick says, "Okay. Well, then, she's a girl?" Daniel grunts, "I don't think it works that way. I think you'd better get rid of her." Ken argues, "I don't want to break up with her! I really like her! I might even...love her." "Really," Daniel drawls. "Yeah," Ken replies, as if he's not too impressed about it, himself. Nick makes an "ouch" face. Daniel asks, "Does that mean you're gay?" Ken asks, "I don't know. Does it?" Very disappointed, Daniel explains, "I was joking." "Oh," says Ken, realizing that he's shared too much to the wrong people.
After the break, Mr. Rosso welcomes Ken to his "new office" (which he encloses in finger quotes), "courtesy of Big Brother"; it looks to me like a corner in the school library. Mr. Rosso makes a remark indicating his surprise that Ken is voluntarily speaking with him, and Ken admits that he can't believe it himself, but that he needs Mr. Rosso's advice: "Well, there's a...small, little, uh...chance...that, uh, I might be gay." Mr. Rosso mildly says, "I see. That's cool." Ken continues, "I thought you'd be a good person to talk to about it, since you're gay." Mr. Rosso says (without any particular emotion), "I'm not gay." "You're not?" Ken yelps. "No," says Mr. Rosso. Ken starts to say he'd always assumed Mr. Rosso was gay, and Mr. Rosso asks him why. Ken says, "You kinda have this way about you? And I've -- I've never seen you with a woman." Defensively, Mr. Rosso snaps, "Well, I don't bring dates to school! Look, there's nothing wrong with being gay. It's just not my personal preference." Ken looks confused and mumbles, "I think I'd better get going." Mr. Rosso invites him to "stay and talk about this," but Ken drawls, "No, I don't think I can."
At home, Ken listens to a David Bowie song I recognize but of which I don't know the title (sorry). He bobs his head wanly, clearly experimenting with his reaction to glam rock. Then he flicks a switch and switches to music that sounds a bit like it might be Megadeth (but, again, I don't know for sure -- hey, I was listening to Free to Be, You and Me back then!), and he immediately starts banging his head enthusiastically and picking at an air guitar. He shuffles some cassettes in his hand and puts a new one in the stereo, whereupon a disco version "If They Could See Me Now" comes blaring out of the speakers. Ken flicks his head with a confused expression, and then from under his mattress, he pulls out a porn mag with a pair of womanly legs on the cover, and a bag, out of which he slides a men's gay porn magazine entitled Playpen. He stares from one cover to the , apparently not coming up with any definitive test results. I have to say that if I had to determine my sexual orientation based on my appreciation of either gay or straight porn, I would choose celibacy.
At school, Mr. Rosso is trying to break into what is presumably his own car (his briefcase is resting on the roof), muttering to himself, and then, when he is unsuccessful, loudly cussing (hee hee, using the word "mother-rammer"). Lindsay wanders up and asks what he's doing. Evidently, Lindsay's is a case where book-smarts and street-smarts diverge, which is essentially what Mr. Rosso's response indicates. She offers to help him, and he defensively tells her he can handle it. Stung, she makes to leave, but he calls her back to tell her that "Bush's people rejected [her] question, so they've written one for [her]." He hands her a slip of paper, from which she reads, "What is your favourite place to eat in the state of Michigan?" She demands to know what happened, and he tells her that the Bush people (of the Kalahari?) found the question she wrote to be "too sophisticated." She contemptuously asks what that's supposed to mean, and Mr. Rosso grumbles, "That's code for 'Nice try, but this is a glorified photo opportunity.'" Lindsay scoffs non-verbally, and Mr. Rosso says that he's disappointed, too, but that she should try to keep a positive perspective, bitterly informing her, "You actually get to interact with the Vice-President of the United States. That's historic." Sarcastically, Lindsay whines, "Ooh, maybe if I'm lucky he'll tell me which steak house has the best prime rib!" Mr. Rosso expresses his disillusionment that there will be no real political dialogue, and that "you can't win with these people. You know what all my protesting accomplished in the sixties, at Berkeley? Sixteen scars on my head from a tear-gas canister. We tried to get them to stop the war. They stopped the war when they felt like it. And now all my compatriots are gettin' rich workin' Wall Street, and I can't get my keys out of my mother's car!" Lindsay, in turn, expresses her disillusionment that Mr. Rosso is apparently giving up so easily: "Come on, there's nothing we can do?" Mr. Rosso mutters, "Yeah, there's something you can do. You can go get Brooksie the janitor to come out here and help me." Lindsay stares at him, heartbroken. Somehow, I have a feeling that this incident didn't actually convince Mr. Rosso that the sixties were over, since it's now twenty years later and most boomers still haven't figured that out. (This observation is brought to you by Wing Chun, new homeowner and therefore enemy to hippies everywhere.)
I would like to preface my remarks here by saying that I don't make a habit of looking at Cindy's bosoms. But she's sitting in a movie theatre with Sam, wearing a pale pink sweater, and she clearly has a black bra on underneath. It is very distracting. That is all. Anyway, she's in the process of describing, to Sam, a political debate she'd conducted earlier: "So I told Todd that Republicans aren't selfish, it's just that they don't believe poor people should get handouts. I mean, they should get jobs; handouts just make them lazy, don't you think?" I agree: Republicans are lazy, and should get jobs. Unless I'm misreading Cindy's unclear antecedent, there. Sam reluctantly agrees with her. Cindy says that Todd never understood her political beliefs: "He's a Democrat," she snorts, in a tone that suggests Democrats are tantamount to cannibals, adding, "They like handouts." Sam gives her a sidelong glance, and then decides this is an appropriate time to change the subject: "Um, and speaking of handouts, um, I got you something." Cindy says that he's "the best boyfriend" and asks what it is. Sam produces the "heirloom," dangling it proudly from his fingers. Cindy's face falls as she regards it, and she gracelessly asks, "What is it?" He tells her it's "an heirloom necklace" that's been in his family "for generations." Cindy stuns me some more by asking, "How much did it cost?" like, what, are you going to pawn it and then put the proceeds in a G.I.C. so that poor people can't get at it? Sam, a little taken aback by the only thing in the room tackier than the necklace -- namely, Cindy's question -- says he doesn't know how much it cost since -- all together now! -- "it's an heirloom." Cindy calmly thanks him and says it's "very sweet." Sam grins, and blushes, and she leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He offers to put it on her, and she quickly stops him and actually holds up her hand to impede the progress of the necklace from Sam's hands to her neck: "No, that's okay." Sam slowly withdraws, hurt, as she takes it away from him, feebly explaining, "You know, it's -- it's metal, so it'd be cold on my neck and everything." Sam is wounded, but recovers his composure as the lights go down, and the movie starts.
At the dinner table, Lindsay is complaining about the tough-question smackdown. Dad Weir defends the Bush team, asserting, "He's not coming to your high school to be interrogated by a bunch of pimple-faced teenagers," and that she has to be polite. Lindsay sarcastically draws the conclusion, from Dad Weir's Bush defense, that "if you have a zit, you're not entitled to an opinion." Okay, not that I cotton to Dad Weir's argument, but -- straw man, Lindsay. Mom Weir gently says that she just thinks it's nice that Bush is coming at all, since she's "sure he's a very busy man." "Busy doing what?" Lindsay scoffs, "waiting for the President to die so he can take over?" Mom Weir mildly chides Lindsay for her disrespect, and Dad Weir adds, "There's a more important opportunity to be had, here. I was thinking, when you ask your question, you can mention my store." Lindsay opines that "that's sick," and Dad Weir shoots back, "It would be sick if we went out of business. Your only affiliation right now, to any party, is to the Weir party. We need help." Lindsay appeals to Mom Weir to shut Dad up, but Mom backs him: "Those mega-stores can offer discounts your father can't." Dad Weir wheedles, "This is no big deal! All you have to do is say, 'Hi. I'm Lindsay Weir. My father owns A-1 Sporting Goods out on 16 Mile,' and then, 'What's your favourite place to eat in Michigan?'" Lindsay says she can't believe Dad Weir is asking her to do this, but both parents ignore her, and Mom Weir further suggests that Lindsay wear one of the store's new t-shirts, which are conveniently positioned right beside his chair. He holds it up, smiling. Lindsay stares back, catching flies.
At the movies, Steve Martin is acting in the "he hates these cans!" scene, in The Jerk, that Sam was re-enacting in "Smooching and Mooching." Cut to the audience, where Sam is killing himself laughing (and his laugh is, it must be said, very endearing but also extremely girlish), and Cindy is staring ahead, impassively. After a few moments, Sam glances over at her and, observing her bitter expression, asks, "Isn't this great?" "Yeah, I guess so," she agrees, in much the same tone Sam used to agree with her that poor people don't deserve handouts. He asks her if she wants some popcorn, and Cindy icily replies, "Will popcorn make this movie funnier?" Sam's happy expression crumbles and he asks, "You don't think this movie's funny?" Cindy snottily answers, "No, I think it's stupid. I mean, come on, how old is this guy? He's got grey hair and he's running around like a five-year-old." Cut back to the screen, where Steve Martin is ineptly avoiding gunfire. Sam joylessly watches, looking quite angry. Cindy smiles as lasciviously as a Republican cheerleader can and coos, "Sam." "Yeah?" Sam sneers. Cindy leans over and starts sucking on his neck; Sam looks completely appalled and demands, "Oooow! What are you doing?" Cindy says she's "giving him something," and locks back onto his neck. Sam yelps in pain, some more, and squeals, "What are you giving me?!" Cindy sunnily explains, "I'm giving you a hickey, you goof!" Sam mournfully submits, though it's clear from his expression that Cindy is, quite literally, sucking all the pleasure out of one of his favourite movies.
The Freaks loiter around a couple of cars parked in a field. For some reason, Lindsay is defending Mr. Rosso as being "cool" and "kind of good-looking." Kim bursts out laughing and snorts, "Yeah, if you're attracted to guys who look like Jesus!" Oh, Kim. We hardly knew ye. Amy and Ken roll up and Amy affably asks, "What's up?" "Hey, guys," Daniel greets them, pleasantly enough. Ken starts blinking angrily and snaps, "What's that supposed to mean, Daniel?" Oh, Ken. Don't start. Daniel repeats (sort of), "How's it going, guys?" glancing around with a "what the fuck is up Ken's ass?" look. Amy looks at Ken. Ken gets increasingly annoyed. Daniel twigs and starts apologizing, "Oh, geez, Ken, I didn't mean it like that." Realization washes over Amy's face. Ken storms up to Daniel and punches him in the face. Nick tries to step in and Ken shoves him away as Kim shrieks, "What the hell, Ken?!" Ken backs off, looking at Amy, who yells, "Oh my god!" and takes off. Ken runs after her. Lindsay asks Daniel if he's okay, and he mutters that he's all right. Kim asks him and Nick whether they're going to tell her and Lindsay what that was about, and Daniel, gingerly dabbing at his nose, quietly tells her to forget it. She insists upon an answer, and he yells at her to give it a rest. Geez, it seems like Ken and Daniel have been taking tact lessons from Cindy.
Amy lies in bed. Ken taps at her window and calls her name, begging for her to let him explain. Amy doesn't move a muscle. Ken says that he's an idiot, and then leaves. Amy sniffles and swipes at her face.
Sam is reclining on the plaid sectional couch in the living room when Lindsay wanders in. She asks him if he's okay. He wanly glances up and says, "Yeah. Are you? You look weird." She sinks down to him and says that her best friends were punching each other in the face. Sam says, "Cindy and me went to see The Jerk and she didn't laugh once." "Uh-oh," says Lindsay, with full comprehension of the import of Sam's remark. Sam asks, "What's wrong with me? I mean, she's so pretty; how come I don't like her?" Fortunately for all the women in Sam's potential future, Lindsay exists, and informs him, "Just 'cause a girl's pretty doesn't mean she's right for you! Not all good-looking people are cool." Sam morosely says that he knows. Lindsay tells him not to worry about it: "If it doesn't feel right, you can always break up with her." Sam clearly can't believe how stupid Lindsay is: "No. I can't break up with Cindy Sanders." Lindsay simply asks, "Why not?" Sam says that if he did, people would think he was crazy. Lindsay asks, "Why?" As if to a particularly stupid child, Sam spells it out for Lindsay: "Well, because they can't believe that she's going out with me in the first place!" Lindsay tells him that he can't keep dating Cindy if he doesn't like her. Sam sighs. Lindsay says, "And -- what's on your neck?" Sam admits, "A hickey." Lindsay chuckles, "Man, Sam!" "What?" Sam asks defensively, though now he's laughing, too. She leans over him and demands to get a better look, and he cracks up and fights her off. It's all very cute.
Ken walks down the street, his hands in his pockets. Daniel pulls up beside him and orders Ken to get in the car. Ken hesitates. Daniel insists. All is forgiven. They're guys. No one's gay. Daniel is seventy-nine years old.
Finally, a commercial!
It's obviously the day of Bush's visit. Mr. Rosso has cleaned himself up -- he's wearing a real suit and his hair is in a tidy braid down his back -- and is complimenting some girl, off-camera, on her red-white-and-blue blouse. Lindsay trudges into school in her army jacket and the A-1 Sporting Goods t-shirt, and marvels at Mr. Rosso's transformation. He accepts the compliment politely and asks her if she's ready. She says she guesses she is, and asks him if he is. He says he is, apologizes for the scene in the parking lot, and says how excited he is that Bush is there. Lindsay looks like she doesn't know which is the true Jeff Rosso -- the bitter man breaking into his mother's car, or the giddy man with the pigtail. She wanders over to where Kim is leaning against the wall. Kim asks, "So, are you really going to do it?" Lindsay whips open her jacket to reveal the t-shirt and cracks, "I'm a member of the Weir party!" Kim snickers.
Elsewhere, Sam is wearing a rather smart grey turtleneck and telling Neal and Bill, "My stomach hurts." Bill says that his stomach would hurt, too, if he were "breaking up with the prettiest girl in school." Hey, I thought Bill wanted them to break up! Maybe he's just busting Sam's balls. Neal bitterly says that he's glad Sam's stomach hurts, and that the pain is Sam's body telling him he's making a mistake. Sam repeats Lindsay's wise counsel about pretty girls' not always being cool, but Neal will have none of it: "Okay, Sam? First of all, of course it does. And secondly, you're just scared! I mean, years from now, you'll be sitting in your house, looking at your unattractive kids with your unattractive wife, saying to yourself, 'Man, why did I ever dump that goddess, Cindy Sanders?'" Okay, Neal? First of all, Bill Gates is not cute (or, at least, not to anyone but me), but he managed all right in the attractive wife department. Second, Cindy may well be pretty, but her personality is very unattractive, which is far more significant, and will only grow to be more important to Sam as he grows up, meets more women, and decides what sort of lifelong mate he wishes to have. Third, who marries his ninth-grade girlfriend, anyway? And fourth, Neal, shouldn't you regard Sam's ditching Cindy as your opportunity to swoop in and nab her for yourself? Fifth, whatever, which is pretty much what Sam says as he marches away to dump Cindy. Neal and Bill watch him go. Neal is incredulous, and Bill chooses exactly the right moment to ask him, "Did I ever tell you about the time that I made out with Vicki Appleby?" Neal tells him to shut up. Bill grins. So do I.
Amy sadly walks down the hall. Lindsay calls to her, and Amy immediately turns, silently, and starts walking more quickly in the opposite direction. Lindsay asks her to wait up, which Amy does, with obvious reluctance. Lindsay asks her if she's okay, and Amy says she isn't, and that she can't even believe she came to school today. Lindsay asks what's wrong, and Amy snorts, "Like you don't know, Lindsay." Lindsay says she doesn't, and Amy asks, more gently, "You mean Ken didn't tell you?" Lindsay essentially says that Ken didn't tell her jack, and asks Amy if she wants to talk to Lindsay, but Amy mildly tells her not to worry about it, and books. Lindsay calls after her, and Amy stops on the stairs. Lindsay wishes her good luck with "Hail to the Chief," and Amy smiles and thanks her. Lindsay walks off, and as she goes, we see the back of her t-shirt, on which is printed, "WELCOME GEORGE BUSH."
Ken walks into the bathroom and braces himself against the counter. A toilet flushes and Sam emerges from a stall. Ken asks him if he's Lindsay's brother, and Sam says he is and tells Ken his name. Ken sensitively asks, "Did you just puke?" Sam denies it, but admits that he's nervous. "About George Bush?" Ken asks. And intuitive, too! While washing his hands, Sam tells Ken he's going to break up with Cindy Sanders. Ken confirms Sam's fears by asking why and telling Sam that Cindy's "hot." Sam glares at him and then says that Cindy's very different from Sam. Ken confides that he knows how that is (only in his case, I would say it's...uh...the opposite of what Sam said), and tells Sam that he thinks he may have to break up with his own girlfriend, too. Sam, without much interest, asks why, and Ken tells Sam it's "very complicated." Sam tells Ken that he and Cindy have nothing in common: "I mean, she thought The Jerk was stupid." Ken can't believe that: "Man, my girlfriend loved The Jerk." Sam says that he and Cindy have nothing to talk about, and that she doesn't like anything that Sam likes, and that they never have any fun together. Ken sounds sorry for Sam, and says that his girlfriend is pretty cool. Sam snaps, "God! Then what's the problem?" Ken finally gets it, and admits, "I don't know!" Sam says, again, that he's going to break up with Cindy, and Ken wishes him luck, then smiles at his own good luck in having a girlfriend as cool as Amy is. See what they did there? Parallelism.
Cindy is dressed up for the veep's visit when Sam approaches her at her locker. She irritably starts to tell him she's been looking all over for him, and then she notes his turtleneck and demands, "What the hell is that?" Sam cagily asks, "What?" and she asks him if he's covering up her hickey. Sam replies, rather reasonably, that he found the hickey "kind of embarrassing" and tells her not to get mad. Cindy bitches, "Oh, thanks, Sam. So I guess if you got me a diamond ring and I didn't wear it because I was too embarrassed, you wouldn't get all mad, either?" Okay, first of all, a hickey is HARDLY in the same class as a diamond ring. Second, you know what is? An heirloom pendant, as Sam points out to her, reminding her that she's never worn it. She tells him it was ugly. He tells her THEY WERE ON A BREAK! Er, I mean, "It was an heirloom!" Cindy snaps at him not to start a fight with her right now since she's about to introduce Bush. Sam snorts a little, and then says, "Cindy?" "What?" she snips back. Sam takes a deep breath and exhales, "I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore." Cindy looks like she may fall over. Sam adds, "I just want to go back to being friends." "'Friends'?" Cindy repeats incredulously, asking why. Sam gently tells her that he wants to be friends, like they were before. Cindy replies, "No!" "No?" Sam asks, clearly not having expected this response. Cindy declares, "No, Sam. You can't break up with me. You're supposed to be nice! That's the only reason why I'm going out with you in the first place." "Hey! I am nice," Sam protests, "I'm just not having any fun! Are you?" Cindy admits that she isn't. She reaches into her locker, throws the pendant at him, and stomps off. Can I just say that Sam has more balls than guys three times his age? I can? Thanks. Neal and Bill walk over. Neal has enough grace to tell Sam, "You did the right thing. You're too good for her." Bill asks whether Sam will eat lunch with them today, and Sam says he will. "Thank god," mutters Bill. Neal gives him a look. They all wander away.
Oh, this scene is adorable. As plucky Lemonheads-ish guitar plays, Ken storms through the assembled band members, stopping at each tuba to see if Amy is nestled within. When he finally finds her, he says, "I'm sorry. And I don't care. And I'm so sorry." Amy smiles. Ken smiles back. They lean toward each other and start kissing, but since she's in her instrument, Ken ends up stroking and caressing the tuba, which is very, very sweet. She tells him she has to get to the assembly. He beams at her as she walks off. Okay, Ken and Amy? Bar none, cutest couple in television history.
In the cafeteria, everyone prepares to get some Bush. (Oh, come on. You thought I could write a whole recap without making a "Bush" joke?) Even the Norseman is on hand. Agent Stiller works the door. Mr. Rosso appears and genially tells Ben's fellow agent his name, and says that it should be on his list. Agent Fellow checks his clipboard, stares at Mr. Rosso, and then leans over to whisper something in Agent Stiller's ear. Agent Stiller checks the clipboard himself, and then asks, "Jeffrey Theodore Rosso?" Mr. Rosso confirms his full name, and Agent Stiller asks him to step away from the door for a conference, in which Agent Stiller asks, basically, whether Mr. Rosso was a hippie protestor in college. Mr. Rosso indignantly says, "No," and when Agent Stiller regards him sadly and cocks his head expectantly, Mr. Rosso admits that he might have been. Agent Stiller informs Mr. Rosso that he's been red-flagged as a security risk, and that he won't be allowed to attend the assembly. Mr. Rosso protests, "I work here!" Agent Stiller looks a little regretful, and says that he'll have to escort Mr. Rosso to a special "holding area." As the agent is leading him by the arm, Mom Weir calls out, "Oh, there he is!" Agent Stiller is classy enough to withdraw his arm from Mr. Rosso's as Mom Weir thanks Mr. Rosso for the opportunity he gave Lindsay. Mr. Rosso looks shifty, and Lindsay asks him where he's going. Mr. Rosso admits that he "rocked the boat a little bit in [his] youth," but tells her not to worry about it, and to go into the assembly and make the school proud. Agent Stiller officiously makes to take Mr. Rosso away, advising the Weirs to clear the way. Mr. Rosso glances back, giving Lindsay an expectant look. Dad Weir reminds Lindsay and Mom Weir, "I told you that guy was a kook!"
Around the corner, Agent Stiller asks Mr. Rosso what he teaches at McKinley, and Mr. Rosso replies that he's a guidance counselor. "Really?" says Agent Stiller.
The moment, Agent Stiller is sitting in front of Mr. Rosso's desk, saying, "Sometimes I have to just stand in the same place for twelve hours, and just stare at a wall. You start to see things. Your feet -- the pain in your feet [looks heavenward]." Mr. Rosso tries to adapt to the odd position he's in, and offers, "Well, it's an important job." "No, it's not!" replies Agent Stiller, explaining, "You ever heard of the Vice-President getting assassinated? No. You know why? Because it's never happened. Will it ever happen? No way. 'Cause who cares. Know what I mean?" Only Ben Stiller could play this part.
In the cafeteria, Cindy steps up to the mic, wiping her eyes, and quaveringly introduces the Vice-President. Sam looks guilty. The band strikes up "Hail to the Chief." Ken and Amy lock eyes. Ken bobs his head as he did to the Bowie song, and then yells, "Yeah! 'Hail to the Chief'!" Amy cracks up. "This song rocks!" Ken adds.
As the song plays faintly in the background, Agent Stiller continues his litany of complaint to Mr. Rosso: "You know, sometimes -- I mean, this sounds crazy -- but sometimes I think I just want to rip off my vest and jacket, and just put on a t-shirt, and go and, like, make pancakes, somewhere, or something. But, I mean...that would be crazy, right?" Mr. Rosso warmly tells Agent Stiller that he has a test that will reveal what kind of job would best suit him. Agent Stiller says he'd like to take the test, and thanks Mr. Rosso sincerely.
In the cafeteria, we can just see the edge of the podium and the left elbow of the body double playing George Bush, as Sam's Bio teacher, Trace Beaulieu, announces that it's time for questions, and calls on Lindsay. Dad Weir leans forward in his chair, looking proud and expectant, as do the Freaks. Lindsay takes a deep breath, then gets up and says, "Mr. Vice-President? My name is Lindsay Weir. My dad owns A-1 Sporting Goods, on 16 Mile Road. My question is, why did your staff reject my question? Are you afraid of an open discourse with the students?" The cafeteria erupts in quiet chatter, and, in his office, Mr. Rosso smiles at the intercom speaker that is apparently broadcasting the assembly throughout the school. "Funny kid," snorts Agent Stiller, filling out his test paper. "One of McKinley's finest," Mr. Rosso replies proudly. Agent Stiller gets the last word: "'Do you like working with major appliances?' That'd be a yes." One hopes that that fate is not in the cards for Martin Starr and Jason Segel. Come on, Fox Family! Don't let us down!