Oh, the angst. Already, the angst. Two seconds into the show, and I'm already drenched in angst. Can't you smell it? It smells like feet.
We open on a shot of the Lincoln Memorial. A fancy futuristic train whizzes past it. Because it's 2049, and apparently we're all going to be on futuristic flying trains in less than fifty years. If I don't have a flying car by then, I'm going to be extremely pissed. The way this show is structured is interesting, by the way. The events of the present day -- you know, the Standard WB Teen Angstapalooza segments -- are framed by interview bites from a 2049 documentary about the McCallister boys. It's kinda like the narration on Everwood, except coming from the future. And with more people weighing in. People from the future. Also, it's longer. Okay, it's not that much like the narration on Everwood, really, except for the part where it's narration, period.
Some old talking head, whom I recognize from ER and who is chyroned as "Victor Samble, Harvard University, 2049," explains that great presidents are all "complicated individuals, undertaking an impossible task." Can one image tell their story, he wonders, before launching into some yada yada about how, since the advent of photography, each president has had "one defining image associated with him...or her." Her? In less than fifty years? I think that's quite optimistic, but I'd certainly like to live to see a woman president. I'd also like to see an African-American President and apparently we will, in 2018, when President Helman visits "Africa after the plague." Note to self: avoid Africa for a few years. ["You'll probably see both in just a few years, when Oprah decides to run." -- Wing Chun] Samble continues, adding that no documentary about President McCallister would be complete without "this photo, taken just before his election in 2040. It tells the story of a fiercely determined man, on the cusp of wresting victory away from the jaws of near certain defeat." It also tells the story, in black and white, of an unidentifiable dude leaning against a wall. "Now, whether it tells the whole story, now that's another question all together, isn't it?" My guess is that it doesn't tell the whole story, or this show would have no reason to exist. We fade from the Leaning Against the Wall photo to a still black and white photo of a really hot young man mid-jog. He turns to color and begins to move. Meet Jack. He's hot.
Jack runs down the street in what we learn is present-day Hart, Missouri, past the city hall and into a Best Buy and right up to a Jack Black-y looking salesboy. "She has to buy a TV," Jack tells Not Jack Black. "All you gotta do is not let her get off-track, all right?" NJB retorts sullenly that, considering the fact that he was salesperson of the month in July and August, he thinks he can handle it. Jack looks doubtful.
Christine Lahti comes striding into the Best Buy, a somewhat downtrodden -- yet resilient! -- a little kid trotting behind her. The kid seems miraculously tolerant of her rather strident diatribe, the gist of which seems to be: TV panders to the lowest common denominator, and therefore is mostly garbage, oh weep, weep for America. "It's only the news we're interested in, Ma," Bobby -- for it is he and why pretend otherwise? I'm getting older by the moment here -- points out. Jack watches surreptitiously behind a display, like a particularly inept stalker. "Oh, God," Christine Lah -- oh, fuck it. Her character is named Grace, and I don't feel like waiting for that reveal, either, both because Grace is ever so much easier to type and doesn't make my spell-check angry and because I am lazy -- groans, looking at the TVs on display. "Are you sure you want a television?" she whines. "Yes," Bobby says. "Okay. It's your birthday. It's your mind," Grace guilts him. Bobby shoots a look over his shoulder at Jack, who makes the universal "shit! Pretend I'm not here. Pretend I'm not here!" hand wave.
Grace approaches NJB, wondering if he's "the responsible agent here." NJB gives her a quizzical look before answering that, yes, the television section is his domain. She doesn't even get the word "TV" out of her mouth before getting distracted by a Casio-type electronic piano thingy, which she floats over to as though being sucked in by a tractor beam. Bobby scampers behind her and arrives Casio-side in time to hear his mother wax poetic about how educational this electronic keyboard will be. Behind them, Jack frantically tries to convince NJB to haul ass over there and sell a damn TV. Grace is still mooning over the Casio. Grace, if you owned a TV, you would know that electronic keyboards are not cool. See: Walsh, Jim and Geller, Ross. NJB gives it the old college, but he can't penetrate Grace's "You Will Compose A Symphony And Become a Great Man, Bobby" force field. Bobby weakly points out that he and Jack want a TV, even name-dropping the History Channel. Grace launches into this long winded hoo ha about how she always wanted to learn the piano and she never did, and she's never gotten over it, why isn't she a great pianist, why, God, why, why? But Bobby's still young, dammit, and he's going to learn to play the piano because she never did and because, as we'll all soon learn, it's all about Grace. In a passive-aggressive nod to not being a total bossy boots, she finishes her speech with "it's up to you," a phrase my mother often uses after statements like, "Go ahead and ruin your life," and "if you want to break my heart."
So, NJB follows them out of the store, Casio in hand. "Want me to carry this out to the car for you?" he asks. "No, thanks, my son can carry it," Grace says with a wave. NJB looks at puny little Bobby and starts to protest, and Grace is all, "My other son," with a smirky "oh HO HO! No one puts anything over on ME" expression on her face and I have to say, I kinda hate her. ["'Kinda'? The woman is raising her children without TV! What is she, a Communist?" -- Wing Chun] "See you at home, Jack," she chirps as she sails out the door. Jack appears from behind a display, looking put-upon.
Talking Head Samble appears from THE FUTURE and yammers on some more about how says much has been documented about McCallister's childhood, but that no one knows...blah blah blah, something about the struggle between his "greatest ambitions and basest flaws." This is the point at which, were I doing this documentary at my current job, we would be asked make it a little more juicy. "Was the man so often referred to as The Great Believer a believer from the beginning?" Talking Head Samble wonders. Was the woman so often referred to as The Jack & Bobby Recapper aware that she would have a shitload of narration to recap every week when she took this gig? The answer to both questions is no.
Jack and Bobby walk home, Jack awkwardly lugging the Casio. Mama McCallister didn't even give them a lift? That's rude. Bobby is trying to explain to his brother how very cool his keyboard is going to be, but Jack isn't biting. "I could have a band," Bobby offers. "You need more than two people to be in a band, dumb-ass," Jack points out. That's true. Otherwise, you are only a duo. Jack also doesn't care about Bobby's newfound and fake desire to be a concert pianist. "The point is, it's not what you wanted. It's what she told you you wanted. And you agreed like you always do," Jack grumbles. "Not always," Bobby mutters. Oh, Jack. Weight of the world on those manly shoulders. Come over here and let me comfort you.
Jack stops midstride and hands Bobby the Casio, because he can spy on the movers across the street better if he doesn't have his hands full. Bobby, for his part, takes this moment to exposit helpfully that they're staring at the new college president's house, and that Grace thinks said college president is "a money-grubbing whore." I was a money-grubbing whore for Halloween once. That was pretty fun. Jack tells him to shut up, so he can concentrate on checking out the hot chick talking to the movers. Well, he thinks she's hot. I think she's sort of Normal Girl Pretty, which is nice for The WB. She looks like a cross between Amber Benson and Anne Hathaway. ["Only reeeeal toothy." -- Wing Chun] "Is that his daughter?" Bobby asks. "How should I know? Have I seen anything that you haven't?" Jack retorts. They both gaze at her until Bobby starts to drop the Casio, and they realize they best scamper home to Mama Bear before she eats one of their neighbors.
Talking Head Samble drops in from THE FUTURE again, this time to blah blah blah about looking into the past and do you know when you're in the presence of greatness and yada yada yada. "Could we have seen it?" he wonders portentously. I'll bet we will see it...Sundays at 9 on The WB!
, from THE FUTURE, we get a new talking head. He's Marcus Ride, Senior Counsel to the President and Token Black Man of THE FUTURE. (I guess I just can't type the words, "THE FUTURE" without caps. I feel like I'm in some 1950s filmstrip, but I just can't help it.) Future Marcus explains that he met Jack when they were thirteen, and that he's known the family longer than anyone. "He was my best friend. He was everything you wanted to be. And you loved and hated him for it. And Bobby...well, Bobby was different."
Back in 2004 Bobby was, indeed, different because he's busy playing some fancy space/astronaut game thing before breakfast. When I was growing up, the time before breakfast was reserved solely for sleep. Grace calls Bobby down for breakfast.
In the kitchen, Grace tells Jack that Bobby's first day at high school is "bound to be difficult," and that she wants him to look out for his brother. It's going to be extremely difficult, because Bobby looks about ten. That poor kid has got "wedgie" written all over him. ["Overbearing college prof mom? Precocious, really young-looking second son? Almost Famous much, Jack & Bobby?" -- Wing Chun] Jack just looks sulky and eats his cereal. "Only so much I can do," he says. "I wish you'd pay some attention to me." That last sentence was only in his head, though. Grace continues to berate him about watching out for Bobby, and it is my great pleasure to type the very first "shut UP, Grace" of what I am sure will be many. Eventually, Bobby clambers downstairs and blathers something about space. Grace cuts him off to give him a gift: a beat-up leather briefcase. Jack looks interested, behind her. "This was your father's, when he was a graduate student in Peru," Grace explains. She was waiting to give it to Bobby when he left for college, but she thought he should have it now. So many thoughts race to mind. First of all, poor Jack. He's the eldest; shouldn't he get the Precious Briefcase of Sainted Absent Dad? Not that you want a briefcase in high school, for Pete's sake, especially when you already look like you're barely out of 5th grade. Upgrade Bobby's future from "wedgie" to "atomic wedgie." Jack finally pipes up that they're going to be late, and gets up to put away the milk. While he straightens up, Grace gives Bobby his "note for Gym" and tells him not to lose it. And he can call her if he needs to. "Got your inhaler?" she asks. Jack somehow manages not to roll his eyes when she turns to him and snaps at him to take his brother to school. Jack half-heartedly protests that "Marcus has got the truck," but Grace won't hear it.
Speaking of Marcus, Future Marcus explains that with names like "Jack" and "Bobby," the McCallisters were destined to be politicians. "But that's not what Grace had planned." My name is Jessica and my sister is named Elizabeth. I guess I am destined to drive a Fiat Spider and plow my way through all the cutest boys at school, while exploiting my position as head cheerleader for Sweet Valley High and manipulating my sister into taking tests for me, while my poor sister is destined to come really close to sleeping with Bruce Patman before conking her head on a coffee table and snapping out of it. I imagine that's not what our parents had planned, either. ["OR IS IT?!" -- Wing Chun]
High School of Those Destined For Greatness, And Also Their Friends, Who Speak Quite Pretentiously In The Future. Bobby and a friend are walking to a lunch table. Bobby is making some noise about how the school doesn't have a space club and he can't believe it. His friend -- a squirrelly kid, named Warren, with a bowl cut -- hisses that Bobbyshould lose the briefcase. Bobby? Listen to Squirrelly Warren. The boys take a seat and narrowly avoid getting beaned by a flying milk carton, which Warren correctly interprets as a harbinger of their social doom. "Five years of being outcasts!" he moans. So unpopular that the school actually decides to hold them back a year. Is this a junior/senior high school, something I thought only existed in Trixie Belden books? How very convenient for purposes of both the plot and casting, since the kid playing Bobby reads to be in 6th grade at best.
So, Bobby takes the milk carton over to the punk who threw it at them, who reminds me of Wayne Arnold from The Wonder Years and who, therefore, I sort of like. Especially since Precocious, Sheltered Bobby is getting a wee bit tiresome. Anyway, Wayne submits Bobby to a whole slew of not particularly biting bullying comments, all of which make it abundantly clear that while the writers of this show are well-seasoned when it comes to writing Intelligent and Flawed Adults, the last time they were in a high school was approximately 1957. Warren pleads with Bobby to come back to their table: "My pot pie's getting cold." Wayne gets in a few more anemic jabs -- including calling Bobby "Wheezer," which wouldn't be a burn even if it weren't also a homonym for the name of a really cool band -- and then takes his cronies off to smoke some cloves. Warren begs Bobby to bag the petition. I beg the writers to hang out at a local high school for an hour.
Future Marcus bliddly blah blahs that all of the McCallisters "had that thing. Knowing what you want and going after it without hesitating or equivocating. And Jack had it in spades."
Speaking of Marcus, his younger self is eating with Jack in the caf. Marcus - who is ALSO hot, thank you -- is informing Jack that Marcus is not going to be carrying Jack's ass in school this year. Jack isn't thinking about homework, though. He's distracted...by the Money-Grubbing Whore's Daughter, who is sitting alone and writing in her notebook. Oy. Already so pretentious. If you have to sit alone, a magazine is a better way to go. Marcus wonders what he's staring at, and looks over at New Girl Courtney Benedict. A blonde at their table pipes up that she knows someone who met Courtney in Chem, and that she's apparently a total bitch. "She's probably shy," Jack says. Blonde and I roll our eyes in unison. "You're just saying that because you think she's cute," Blonde teases. Jack says he's heard a lot of people talking about Courtney, but that he doesn't see anyone talking to her, and, with that Drama Queen statement, gets up and heads over, while the rest of his friends make a lot of Teen Movie 1994 type comments like, "Aw, yeah, dawg," and "You go on with your bad self."
Jack: "What are you writing?" Courtney: "Nothing." Jack doesn't think it looks like nothing. Courtney explains that she's just writing her thoughts. Please don't let it be poetry. Please don't let it be poetry. Jack introduces himself and invites Courtney to sit with him and his friends. She turns him down, flat. What new girl in her right mind rejects a friendly overture from anyone halfway normal-seeming, especially a super-cute boy? Jack wonders what's so scary about, you know, making friends. "Look, you don't even know me, so why do you care what I think?" Courtney brats. Ah, yes. This is where, in real life, The Cute Boy (or Nice Friendly Girl, for that matter) would be like, "Bitch, please. I'm reaching out to you because you are new here and it's hard not to have friends. If you want to act all asshole-y about it, be my guest. Enjoy your misery." Because this is TV, however, Jack finds Courtney's bratty exterior intriguing. Look, girls? I feel compelled to tell you that in real life, boys don't find the Ice Queen act nearly as alluring as they do on TV. What is presented on television as "intriguing" is dismissed in real life as "pain in the ass," and I really, really wish that cliché would die out, because it would really save a lot of impressionable young ladies a lot of time and energy. But of course, Jack is all, "I don't know you, but I'd like to," and invites her to a bonfire the night. "A school event? Sorry, no," Courtney says. Wow, a nice, cute boy wants to include you in some harmless social activities that happen to be school-sponsored? The horror! What's ? Ritual sacrifices? THE PROM? Noooo! But Jack continues the hard sell and promises that the bonfire will be "life-altering." Do they even have bonfires anymore? He's mid-pitch when Bobby comes up and starts blathering that he didn't know Jack was inside, and that he's sitting outside on the benches and the benches are okay, but blah blah blah cockblocking. Bobby then introduces himself to Courtney and motormouths that she's the girl they saw on the street and that he wondered who she was and Jack was all, "I don't know," and he was all -- "BOBBY," Jack hisses, and Bobby finally, finally shuts it. For about one second, after which he announces that he needs some signatures for his Space Club petition. Courtney kindly signs the petition with a smile, and then hands the paper to Jack, expectantly. Jack, Jack, Jack. I can already tell this girl is going to be a complete pain in your ass. He signs the petition half-heartedly. Bobby scampers off. "My brother has no off switch," Jack groans. The bell rings, and Courtney stands up and says she has to get to class. "I guess I'll see you at the bonfire," she smiles. She walks away as Jack wonders how the hell he pulled that off.
Later that night. McCallister Manor, where Grace is getting ready for a faculty party and Bobby is sprawled on her bed playing with some dull educational toy and watching her get dressed. Not in a creepy Nip/Tuck way or anything. She's yammering that she hates faculty parties, but that they're making her go, blah blah blah, no one cares, least of all Bobby, who is busy explaining that Warren is concerned that they're going to be geeks. "All the best people were geeks," Grace explains. That is SO NOT HELPFUL, by the way, and not what your kid wants to hear. What your kid wants to hear is, "Everyone feels like a geek their first day of high school. You're going to fit in great." Grace then lists said geeks: "George Bernard Shaw, Bertrand Russell, yours truly." George Bernard Shaw? Went to high school? And who wants to grow up to be George Bernard Shaw? I mean, Pygmalion is good and all, but really. There's not a kid alive with a picture of George Bernard Shaw over his bed. "[Warren]'s afraid people will make fun of us," Bobby says. Grace: "All the greats have been laughed at. It doesn't matter. You have to have the courage of your convictions." How comforting for an eighth-grader. "I don't think Warren thinks that," Bobby offers. Grace dismisses Warren as a weak, unexceptional, conformist who will grow up to be an accountant. Hey, there are lots of nice accountants in the world. My DAD is an accountant. Step off the accountants, bitch. Grace sits to put on her boots and announces that Bobby's dad had a saying about weak men: "They'll follow whomever keeps them fed." Shut up, Grace.
It is at this point that Jack wanders past the bedroom door clad in only a towel. Be still my beating loins. Grace informs him that he's babysitting, and he tells her that he can't, on account of the Super-Nifty Retro Bonfire. ["What eighth-grader needs to be babysat?" -- Wing Chun] Grace suggests that Jack take Bobby to the bonfire! Jack tells Grace that he can't. Why? Because he just can't. "You'll have to do better than circular logic, Jack," Grace sings. She is so awful. Jack mutters something about Marcus and "this girl." Bobby pipes up that he hopes it's Courtney Benedict. "Benedict? I hope she's not related to the money-grubbing whore," Grace pipes up. Bitter And Full Of Issues, your table is ready. Jack admits that Courtney is the Money-Grubbing Whore's daughter. "She's not for you," Grace announces. She is! She's not! Bicker, bicker. Bobby finally has to mediate and swears that he'd rather stay home with his little space game anyway. Grace is fine with this, and tells her sons to nosh on the leftover cold cuts in the fridge for dinner. They whine, but I'd kill for a platter of cold cuts in my fridge right now. Suck it up, boys. This settled, Grace shoos them out. "I'd like a little private time before I go," she explains.
Private time = time to smoke some pot. Grace is awfully wound up for a stoner.
In his (their? The boys seem to share a room, but the house seems awfully big for that) bedroom, Bobby wonders Why Mommy Gets High. "I don't know. Why do you care?" Jack asks. "Because she's different afterwards," Bobby says, putting on his space game helmet. "Yeah, bearable," Jack snarks, and then advises Bobby to drop the space club: "It's a reputation killer." Bobby doesn't get this line of reasoning: "Lots of people do clubs." Oh, naïve, tiresome kid. I feel for you. Jack points out that space is not cool. "You always say, go after what you want and I want to start a space club," Bobby insists. Jack sighs, and wonders if Bobby ever gets tired of not being like everyone else. Bobby just turns back to his game as Jack finishes dressing and makes guilty faces. "Get ready. I'll take you to the thing," he finally says. "Really?" Bobby squeals. "Yeah," Jack grouses. "So what do they burn at these things?" Bobby asks. "Eighth-graders," Jack tells him.
2049. New voice from THE FUTURE, Karen Carmichael, Vice-President 2041-2046, explains that it was "well known" that she had no interest in the Vice-Presidency position, since it "had all but vanished" under the last two administrations. "So when Governor McCallister, as he was then, approached [her]," she turned his ass down flat. But that Unnamed McCallister brother was persistent! And persuasive!
2004 Funky Retro Bonfire. Hot Jack, Hot Marcus, and Poor Dorky Bobby gallivant around the fire. Bobby tells Marcus he's only hanging with "you dorkuses" until his crappy friend Squirrelly Warren shows up. Marcus is all like, "'Dorkus,' strong language," or something, and then he asks Jack for permission to kill Bobby. Jack is all, "We're trying to prevent him from being killed," and then gets all moony and dreamy. "There she is," he breathes. "She," of course, is Courtney. Bobby squeals with glee at the sight of Courtney, but Marcus is a good wingman and grabs the kid and drags him away to go set stuff on fire, so Jack can get his flirt on in peace.
Jack floats over to Courtney, staring at her the entire time in that way that boys do that works wonders if you like them and makes you want to get a restraining order if you don't. "Hi," he breathes. "Is that it?" Courtney asks. "You promised me a life-altering experience, and all I get is 'hi'?" Wow. She is demanding. Newsflash, Courtney: most encounters begin with a greeting of some sort. For example, were George Clooney to come over tonight to give me a full-body massage, I would expect him to open with some form of "hello." Jack, this woman is going to be a lot of work. He just says that he's glad she decided to come. She sort of smiles at this, and they walk off. "He could relate to women better than men," saysVice-President Karen of THE FUTURE. "Something to do with his mother, no doubt. I had the pleasure of meeting her once. She was quite a character." And you are quite a diplomat, because the word I would use is "despot."
Speaking of the despot, Grace is over at the faculty party, chatting with another professor. Well, "chatting" is not quite right; she actually asks him if "the whore" has arrived yet. The whore has not. The professor starts yapping about Utrecht, or something, and Grace decides she's had enough and bails.
Grace meets John Slattery on the steps. I loved him in Homefront. Not so much when he wanted Carrie to pee on him on Sex and the City. Grace and John Slattery literally run into each other on the steps, so you know they're eventually going to have sex. Apologies are exchanged, and Grace warns him not to go inside because "that windbag Benedict never bothered to show up." John Slattery cocks a brow, so you know he is, of course, said windbag. Grace then bitches that the rest of the faculty is "embalming." "That bad?" he asks. "Worse," she complains. "But hey! Party hearty." Man, has she got a bad attitude. She heads off, but Benedict insists on walking her home. "Miss your first faculty party?" Grace asks. Benedict: "As you said, the old windbag never even showed up. What kind of party is that?" At this, Grace looks mildly intrigued. And a little dry around the crow's feet. I suggest Crème de la Mer.
Bonfire. Stuff burns. Courtney and Jack gaze at each other. "So, Mister Track Star, it looks like you're missing all those cute cheerleaders shouting your name," Courtney comments, gesturing to the méléee around the fire. Since it's the beginning of the school year, I am a little surprised this pep rally isn't for football, but whatever. Jack hates all the cheerleader hoo-ha. "I thought that's why guys played sports," Courtney sniffs. "You really don't think much of me," Jack says. "I run because, when I run, everything else goes away. School, homework, my family. It's just me and the road. It's probably how you feel, when you write your thoughts." He smirks just the tiniest bit -- charmingly -- at this, and Courtney can't help smiling back. I think I love Jack. (Did I actually admit that so early on?)
Vice-President Karen of THE FUTURE blathers that the president was "well known" for his relationships with women, but she wouldn't call him a ladies' man. How about a man's man? A man about town? "His charisma was of a different sort. It was less overt than the media would have you believe. And less calculated."
At the bonfire, Jack informs Courtney that his mother is insane. Yes, yes. True. Tell me more. "Certifiable. She's the most popular professor on campus and the weirdest mom on earth." Courtney asks about his dad. "I don't know. He left before my brother was born," Jack explains. Courtney tells him that her mother died last year. Jack: "How?" Courtney: "It's a long horrible story and I'd rather not tell it at a pep rally." She looks and sounds very Angela Chase here. He nods. "So now it's just you and your dad." And her little sister Chloe. So they do have something in common: a younger sibling, each. "Who knew?" Courtney smiles. "I did," Jack smiles. Swoon.
Meanwhile, Grace is bad-mouthing Benedict to Benedict, although of course she doesn't know it yet. Blah blah blah money-grubbing whore blah blah blah blah. For a smart woman, she's awfully dumb to assume he's not Benedict, considering the fact that she's never met him before and she knows he's new to the university. ["It's not credible that there wouldn't have been a press release or internal newsletter with Benedict's picture in it circulated before his arrival, I have to say." -- Wing Chun] Benedict takes his character assassination in stride, although I have to take a moment to comment that perhaps he ought to stride over to the barbershop for a much-needed hair cut. Grace blathers for their entire stroll, ending with the "clever" and ironic "Oh, yeah. I know this guy" as they arrive at her doorstep. Grace then announces that he is the only guy she's ever met at one of "those things" that she's ever enjoyed talking to. Because he let you harangue him the entire time? Peter Benedict apparently enjoyed the abuse, because he asks Grace out. The message of this show seems to be: ladies, be real unpleasant and nab the man of your dreams! Grace wrinkles up her face and tells him that she doesn't date: "That ship has sailed. Capsized. I have kids." He does too! Girls! "Girls. Thank God for that," Grace sighs. Peter makes a perplexed face, as Grace asks about his wife. "Out of the picture," he says. "For now?" Grace asks. Peter says it feels "pretty permanent." Hmm, Courtney said she was dead, but Peter wasn't so specific. Please let Ma Benedict be in a mental institution! Or prison! Although that's so Joey Potter. Of course, not as Joey Potter as the dead thing. Man, Berlanti is ALL about the Single Parent Household of Tears and Regret, isn't he? Pete reminds Grace that "a girl's got to eat." She giggles. "I'm Grace, by the way. Grace McCallister. And you?" He looks at her for a beat. "I'm Peter. Benedict." Heh. He delivered that "Benedict" quite gleefully. Grace is gobsmacked. "My friends all call me the Money-Grubbing Whore. Good night, Grace!" he says, and saunters off. Huh. I think he could do better.
Bonfire. Squirrelly Warren is complaining to Bobby about their shit social status. Warren, maybe it's your terrible haircut. Just a thought. On cue, Wayne comes over and tells the boys that they're off to smoke some more cloves, because it's 1992, and wouldn't they like to join him? Oh, they can't because of the ASTHMA. Oooh, burn. Bobby makes a face, but Warren announces that he'd be happy to join them. He smokes! He loves to smoke! You got something? Warren will set it on fire and stick it in his mouth! Bobby wonders if he can tag along to the smokefest, but Warren says no, because he's ruining Warren's cred. Bobby hops off the hay bale he's been sitting on (I know, I know) and announces that Warren is just doing this because he is weak, unexceptional, and destined for a life in accounting. Warren returns this volley with: shut up, you're worse, I don't want to be friends anymore. So Bobby punches him, of course, and the thing you know they're rolling on the ground beating the crap out of each other. Bobby's inhaler falls out of his jacket and he rolls over it.
Eventually, a crowd gathers, including Courtney and Jack. "Is that your brother?" Courtney asks. Jack shrugs his assent. Courtney points out that Bobby's getting hurt. "He's got to learn," Jack says stoically. So Courtney makes a face and leaps into the fray, pulling the boys apart. She is a pain in the ass. So self-righteous. Warren yells he doesn't want to be friends with Bobby anymore. "Way to go, loser," Wayne says to Bobby, putting a protective arm around Warren. Tiresome saver of eighth-graders Courtney, for her part, checks out Bobby, who claims to be fine. "I've got it from here," Jack grumbles. "Yeah, right," Courtney sniffs, and storms out.
"What happened?" Jack asks. Bobby explains that Warren doesn't want to be his friend anymore. Which sucks, although clearly Warren is a first-rate prat. "So you punched him? Where's your inhaler?" Jack asks. Bobby picks it up off the ground and examines it: "It's broken. I'm sorry, Jack." Jack just sighs that they better go home.
Veep Karen from THE FUTURE says that she once asked the President who had the greatest influence on his life. She thought he'd say Grace, but he told her it was his brother.
Oh, God, it's David Paymer. Why won't he leave me alone? At least he seems well cast in this role, as President McCallister's Senior Campaign Strategist from THE FUTURE. He admits that he was worried about McCallister's electability, and yammers on that, in order to win, you have to be "hungry," and McCallister? He was hungry. Now that you mention it, I'm kinda hungry.
McCallister Manor. The Morning After. Grace is trying to fix the kitchen sink, Bobby is telling her about the fight, and Jack is escaping to the place where dreams are made, inside his head. Grace's helpful take on the Warren Affair is that "conflict is inherent in human relations," and that he and Warren are both "ill-equipped to express their feelings." Yes, another practical suggestion from Mom. She then heads out to work, telling Bobby not to worry so much. He just wants people to like him, he sniffles. "What are you talking about? People love you," Grace tells him. Bobby: "Real people. OTHER people. People I'm not related to." Grace rolls her eyes and announces that this conversation "isn't worthy of [Bobby]." She takes a breath and rearranges her paperwork: "If Warren can't see what's special about you, then focus your attention elsewhere." Again, thanks for the hug and the kind words, Ma. In the background, Jack just looks pained. Has Grace ever just said, "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry."? She tells Bobby that he'll make other friends, and asks him to hustle so they won't be late. Jack looks pained some more and gives his mother a dirty look as he walks past her. "What? He's just sensitive," Grace tells Jack. Yes, and you suck.
Bobby takes a mo' before leaving for school, by the way, to steal his mom's stash. You know, as you do.
School. Wayne is hanging with Warren and his cronies under the bleachers because that's where the smokers always are on TV. Bobby trudges up with his briefcase and informs them all that he's got pot and he's willing to share. But not that authoritatively, unfortunately. Warren makes a "shit, now he's cooler than me" face, but if Bobby were really cool, he'd start selling the pot. That way, he'd make friends and money. Wayne agrees to light up later. "Hey, Wheezer, nice going" Wayne calls after him. Bobby smiles. Clearly, Warren is peeved.
Inside the school, Jack is trying to make up with Courtney, who needs to invest in a more supportive bra. She tells him that Bobby was the only reason she was talking to Jack, because someone that nice to his bro couldn't be all bad. Er, Courtney? Jack wasn't that nice to him to begin with, and he's certainly gone out of his way to be REALLY nice to you. So I think you have things a little confused. And if you're worried that he just wants to get in your pants? Take a good look at the kid and take them off! Jack says that he's trying to help Bobby, but that it's hard. Courtney sniffs that she's pretty sure Jack just doesn't want to take the time. Jack insists that he couldn't help Bobby if he wanted to -- not with their mom around. "Maybe that's just what you tell yourself," Courtney snaps, and stomps off again. Every scene in this show featuring Courtney ends with Courtney stomping away.
Bobby is working on some delightful equation in math class when he gets the word from on high ["as it were" -- Wing Chun] that the principal wants to see him. As we used to say in elementary school: "Oooooooh, buuuuuusted."
In THE FUTURE, Paymer talks about how the major problem he ran into during McCallister's campaign was "the lie." See, six months out, the president told this story about his Chilean professor dad who went back to his country and was executed there for his political beliefs. The press didn't believe it. "I should have been more of a hard-ass," Paymer says regretfully, "but the thing is, I believed him."
Cut to the principal's office, 2004. Jack and Bobby sit there and look downtrodden. Grace comes whirling in, all aflutter because she had to put on a video for her class and they're not even at the point in the semester where a video is appropriate and yada yada yada, it's all about her, of course, so shut up, Grace. The principal finally manages to tell her that they found marijuana in Bobby's locker, and Grace -- who I really think needs the pot to self-medicate her maniac swings -- starts riffing on how this is clearly an invasion of Bobby's civil rights and my GOD, woman, cut down on the caffeine and take a nap. The principal finally gets a word in edgewise and tells her that Bobby admitted that he brought the pot to school. Grace is all, "I'm sure he did, given your Gestapo-like tactics." The principal appears to be used to these sorts of personal attacks, and explains that Bobby "confessed to bringing drugs to school for his brother Jack." Oh. Now, that is just not cool. You little brat, making your brother take the fall for you. Grace is stunned. Jack rolls his eyes hugely as the principal explains they've suspended Jack from the track team for this semester and sentenced him to a month of detention. Bobby gets off scot-free. The principal adds that he would like Grace to take a long hard look at what happened to her family today. She tightens her mouth into a tiny, pissed little line.
The whole family goes stomping out, Grace snarling all the way. She snarls at Jack that he has "wonderful timing." "You're captain of this and king of that, some kind of all-American automaton and your brother's first week of high school, you decide to become a teenager." Shut UP, Grace. Could you be any ruder to your own kid? Jack stiffly reminds Grace that he just got kicked off the track team so she could stop yelling. "I told you to watch out for him," Grace yaps. Jack can't believe this. "WHAT? He steals your pot, I get kicked off the team and it's MY fault?" he yelps. Bobby whines that it's his own fault. "It's HER fault," Jack says. "I realize it came from my drawer, but it's rather deductive --" Grace begins, but Jack interrupts her. "Say something real," he spits, which is, I think, the Jack Version of "Shut UP, Grace." Grace asks Jack if he can include Bobby with his friends, and Jack says he can't, because Bobby is "weird." Grace wonders what's so swell about being normal. "Normal is what you have to be if you don't want to spend every day of high school getting beat up," Jack tells her. "I raised him to be special, Jack," Grace says. Hello? He's standing right there. "You raised him to be your best friend," Jack spits. "You just wanted to someone to control and agree with you and keep you from being lonely," he says, and in the middle of this sentence, she actually turns her back on him and walks away, saying, "blah blah blah" and actually making the corresponding hand motions. That is so very rude. "That's why you never cared about me, because I wouldn't do any of that," Jack says to her back. Grace turns around and very dramatically opines that EVERY SINGLE DAY she cares about Jack. "You have NO IDEA what I've given up for you. For both of you," she sniffles. "That's a lie! You didn't do it for us, or for him. You're just a lonely, pathetic, middle-aged woman, hiding behind your books and your words and your teenaged son," Jack retorts. Bobby looks horrified by this entire exchange. Grace claps her hand to her mouth. "One day I'll be gone and he'll see things for the way they are. And hate you for the lies you told him," Jack tells her. He is way more mature than she is, if unusually detached for his age. "Go on, tell him the truth. Tell him who our father really is," he prods. Dum dum dum DUUUUUM.
Jack then turns to Bobby and tells him that their dad wasn't a Chilean professor: "He was a busboy from Mexico she met when she was a waitress." Bobby is a bit horrified by this news. "Nooooooo! He was an archeologissssssst!" he cries. "He's not dead, he's just gone," Jack soldiers on. "No, he diiiiiiiied," Bobby wails. Jack tells him that Grace has been lying to him this entire time. "It's not fake, it's true!" Bobby sobs. Grace starts to tell Bobby that everything is going to be okay, but he can't catch his breath and starts having a real bad asthma attack. Of course, his inhaler is unavailable. "Jack! Jack! Do something!" Grace sobs. Um, excuse me? Professor McCallister? You're the parent here. You do something. He's thirteen. I'm sure this isn't his first asthma attack. Why don't you, oh, I don't know....try being the adult in this family? But Jack just scoops his brother up in his arms. "Meet me at the hospital!" he yells, and runs off. I know he's on the track team and all, but can he run faster than a car? Grace just cries. Pull it together, you selfish woman.
Beaming in from THE FUTURE, Paymer explains that he asked the President why he never told the real story about his dad, but the President never answered him. It wasn't until later, when he heard Grace talking about her dead Chilean husband at a cocktail party, that he understood: "He never told because of her. Because it would have crushed her. That lie almost cost him the election. And it wasn't his lie." But...then the truth must have come out, if it almost cost him the election, right? So why was Grace yapping about it a cocktail party? Grace must lose her marbles eventually. Man, that scene already smells like Emmy bait, and it's not even October yet.
2004. Jack is still running in slow motion with Bobby in his arms. Really, Jack, I think a car...? No? Okay, suit yourself.
After the commercial we learn that Bobby is not dead and is, instead, just in the hospital with an oxygen mask. Grace strokes his face as Bobby explains that he's real sorry he stole her pot. She knows that, and assures him that he'll be okay. The nurse shoos her out eventually.
Outside, Jack is fighting with the coffee machine. Grace tells him that it's broken: "I remember from the last time." She then obviouses that she shouldn't have hit Jack: "I haven't done that, what? Since you were nine," she says thoughtfully. Slapping fourth-graders. Charming. "I jumped off the water tower with Jimmy Weyburn," Jack tells the coffee machine. "Well, that one you deserved," Grace snaps. "Whatever," Jack says, and begins to walk away. Grace's pants are great, for what it's worth. She stops Jack. There is much sighing all around. "So, these things you said? They were true. But you should know that when your father left, I had two jobs, I was trying to take care of you, I had a baby on the way, and I was pretty terrified. And then Bobby came and he was so sick all the time. It was really...all I could do just to keep a roof over our heads and try to keep him well," she explains. Jack sits down without a word. Grace walks closer, telling him that he was always "such a boy," off doing his "own things" and playing with his boy toys and running. How dare he! "But you're right," she says. "Bobby stayed close, and I don't know if it's because I didn't let him get far. But I know that he can't stay so close anymore." Jack agrees, finally saying that Bobby needs his own life. Grace knows that, she sniffs. Grace takes a seat to him. He swallows. Sniffles all around. "It was always 'Grace and Bobby,' wasn't it? You were somewhere else, growing up on your own," Grace says. "Well, it may be too late, but if it's not gonna be, it needs to be 'Jack and Bobby' now." Jack kinda rolls his eyes, and tells her that she needs to back off. Grace insists that she can do that. Not question everything, Jack adds. And stop the drugs. Grace whines that she doesn't want to kick the weed: she's so streeeeeeesssssed, she whines. "Sometimes I just feel like some kind of...." She trails off. "Escape?" Jack supplies. Grace nods, and Jack tells her that they can't escape anymore. "We need to be here. For him. So maybe one day he can escape. For real," he tells her. And that's a generous and selfish thing to say, except for the part where it's also real dramatic. From what I can see, Bobby is a dorky eighth-grader, with a shitty parent who smokes a lot of pot. I can see how that makes his life hard, but it's no harder than two-fifths of the rest of the eighth-graders in the world. It's not like he's a poor genius child growing up in a crack den, whose mom blows men for money in his bedroom and whose dad beats him with a stick. Bobby's life is rough, but it's not that rough. I guess what I don't understand is why Bobby deserves special treatment any more than Jack or anyone else does. I don't grasp where the desire to Save Bobby comes from, because he doesn't seem to be in danger of anything other than needing years of therapy, like the rest of us. Anyway. Grace agrees.
"When I first met Jack, I was too young to see him as anything, really, other than a crush says," says a woman from THE FUTURE identified as "Former First Lady Courtney McCallister," who, for what it's worth, has aged incredibly poorly. "Our relationship never really developed the way either one of us thought it would. But what first love does?" Or, really, any love?
High school, where Marcus is dealing with the fact that now they have to hang out with Bobby all the time. "What's the matter, Marcus? Worried that when the chicks see me, they'll forget all about you?" Bobby chuckles -- rather charmingly, it must be said. Marcus mutters that maybe he'll just wire Bobby's jaw shut. And there's Courtney, who strolls across the quad with some paperwork to tell Bobby that she did a little running around, and Unrealistic High now has a space club. Bobby falls totally in love with her right there and starts yammering about when they'll have their meetings. He's cycling through the days of the week when Marcus grabs him. "Just come with me, little man," he says. "I don't want to come with you," Bobby whines. "Too bad," saysMarcus . Courtney and Jack stare at each other. She looks quite pretty in red. He tells her that it's been a bad week, so if she could tell him how much she hates him later? That would be great. Courtney just says that she heard about the track team, and about his brother and...she'll see him around. She smiles. Jack asks her if she might want to do something some time. She's totally into that vague invitation and tells him that she's still waiting on that "life-altering experience." Jack grins. "Yeah, I'm working on that," he tells her. I wonder if it involves...no, I can't even type that. It's too dirty. Courtney smiles flirtatiously and walks off.
"Yes, I loved Jack once," Future Fugly Courtney says. "But I never could have predicted how things would change -- how the world would change, how my face would take this turn for the worse. It wasn't until many years alter that I really saw Bobby. Before any of us did." Yes, yes. Bobby is really important and special and miraculous and practically the Christ child come back to earth. We get it.
So, Bobby comes home to find his mom hooking up their new TV. Rock on! TV makes everyone's life better. ["Too bad she's set it beside the couch instead of in front of it." -- Wing Chun] Grace explains that she returned the synthesizer. "You're more of the sax type, anyway," she says. Like Bill Clinton, no? Grace sighs and apologizes for lying about Bobby's father. Grace: "I guess I just wanted you to have somebody to look up to. Somebody besides me. Something to aspire to. Do you understand?" Bobby, bless his heart, says no. "Right. Okay," Grace sighs, and explains that she was working as an adjunct professor and waitressing to make ends meet. Bobby's father, she explains, was a busboy, newly in from Mexico; he wanted to be an architect: "He had such kindness. Like you." Grace's friends thought she was nuts, because they barely spoke the same language, but they understood enough to "be together," although not to last. "We just weren't happy. And so...he left. His name was Juan Roberto [Something In Spanish That I Didn't Catch]. That's why I called you Jack and Bobby. For his names. John and Robert." Grace looks at him expectantly. "That's why? It's so boring," Bobby complains. Grace laughs and tells him that the truth usually is. "But, Bobby, this is something I don't usually tell people...." she adds. Bobby assures her that he gets it. And Grace nods and tosses him the remote.
Enter Jack. Bobby tells him the great news about the TV. Jack looks almost pleased by this development, except for the part where he's all full of pain and anguish on the inside. He and Bobby don't have time to watch TV right now, he says, because they're going for a run. "Um, fine," Grace offers. Bobby scampers off to get his running shoes, and Grace and Jack exchange a long look. Jack's in charge now.
Future Courtney still needs microdemabrasion. "In the end I loved both men," she reflects. "Grace used to say that Jack and Bobby were like two sides of one coin. Without Bobby, Jack might never have learned compassion. Without Jack, Bobby might never have gained strength." Yes, yes, symbiotic relationship, we get it.
2004. Bobby is scared that he can't run. "You can run as far as you can run. And then you can run a little further. Now, warm up," Jack explains. They stretch. Bobby wonders if he can become cool, now that they're hanging out more. "No," Jack says shortly. "Eventually?" Bobby asks. Jack: "Probably not." Jack explains that Bobby is too excited all the time. He needs to learn to be more blasé. "Sounds like a lot of work," Bobby reflects. And then he starts teasing Jack about Courtney. Can they run past her house? Are they dating? Does he like her? Does she like him? He should tell her! "Bobby. I'll handle it," Jack says.
Future Courtney: "I loved Jack the way you love the first time. Bobby? Bobby was my life. You know, he called me up one day, out of the blue -- this was a while after Jack died -- he said he had this crazy idea to run for Congress and he wanted to know if I'd help out with his campaign." Wait. Rewind. Courtney marries Bobby? And Jack dies. Interesting.... "It all went so fast, after that. Congress, the governor's mansion, the White House. Us. They called him the 'Great Believer,' and it's true. There was this lightness about him, even then. We saw some dark hours during his Presidency. And it was in those times that he used to say the wrong brother became President." Hardly, since the other one was dead. A dead president doesn't help anyone.
2004. The boys start jogging. Jack tells Bobby to stop running if he can't breathe. "I'm afraid, Jack." "Don't be," Jack says. "Let's go." And so they run.
We flash back to the black and white picture discussed at the beginning of the hour. Samble, Talking Head From the Future, says that on the nights before the election, the outcome was uncertain. "If Robert McCallister did win, it would be by a negligible margin. People associate this image with a President's determination, as he steels himself for battle in the crucial hours to come. They say it tells the story of a man who sensed his destiny and chased it. In truth, he was none of these things. McCallister had asthma. Had from boyhood. He was simply pausing, as he often did before a speech, to catch his breath."