The scene opens with a mob of kids coming into school and being held up by newly installed metal detectors. Grace, naturally, is pissed: "Hope we don't miss our flight!" I noticed that recently Grace has dumped the greasy, unwashed-looking 'do for this cuter, fluffier look. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Joan mentions that her father said Ramsay told Will Ramsay had been bringing his gun to school for months before they ever caught him: "He was, like, proud of it." Grace -- who's stealing Joan's shtick by wearing a long, Dr. Who-esque scarf of her own (or maybe she borrowed one from Joan) -- asks, "Are you saying that legitimizes this oppressive denial of our right to privacy?" Joan: "Grace, I didn't put these things up -- don't rag on me!" Luke: "They consulted with Dad, though." Joan: "That helps, Luke, thanks."
It's Grace's turn to go through, and she starts offloading her baggage. Adam suddenly remembers: "I have metal studs on my boxers." Okay, I'm not sure I could have come up with something I thought he'd be less likely to say. Joan gives him a "uh...okay" look. Adam explains: "It's from my eighth-grade Iron Maiden period. I haven't done a wash in a few days, so...." Oversharing! Grace: "Details are not necessary, Rove." Come on now, Adam -- what if today were the day Joan suddenly decided she wanted to get it on with you? You've got to be better prepared than that, man. Grace walks through the detector and sets it off. You just knew she would. Price: "Not so fast, Ms. Polk!" She walks back out and pulls up her various shirts, revealing a cute little navel piercing. Nice belly, too. Frink is confident: "Grace has more than that pierced." While Joan, Friedman and Luke gawk silently, and Price offers a long-suffering expression, Grace removes the ring and hands it to Price, who accepts it with distaste. Ew! I wouldn't put that back in my navel after he'd had his sweaty little hooves all over it. Grace walks through and Price hands the ring back to her, wiping his fingers on a handkerchief. Grace looks back at everyone staring at her and snarls, "What?" No one says anything. Well, there you go, Luke. Something to think about. They must have these metal detectors dialed up pretty high if one tiny ring set them off. Most of the people I know with piercings don't have any trouble unless they have quite a few. This thing should be setting off people's fillings, not to mention the barrette in Grace's hair.
Price has something else to worry about: the art teacher, Ms. Jankow, has suddenly decided to quit. Her red crocheted beret at a jaunty angle, she seems a somewhat fragile (flaky/loopy) sort: "First there were those faculty meetings, and then the politics, then the forms for the supplies, and now this." Yeah, those first three are really unusual for a teaching position. She adds, "I'm not teaching art in a war zone." Joan and Adam are watching this with concern. Ms. Jankow declares, "I have a degree from Parsons. I studied with Judy Chicago." Price, naturally, has no idea who Judy Chicago is, and if he did, he wouldn't like her. (I, on the other hand, was pretty taken with The Dinner Party when I saw it in the early 1980s. ["My mom still has several large framed posters of it." -- Wing Chun]) Ms. Jankow marches out through the detector, setting it off and dropping some stuff. Adam helps her and she tells him, "Adam...you're really talented, but I...I'm sorry." Adam doesn't say anything; he just looks hurt.
Joan looks sad for Adam as she marches through the detector. Some security guy motions her aside and she complains, since she didn't set off the alarm. He starts wanding her as she says, "So unless you want to sentence me to death for possession of Gummi Bears, I would like to go to class." I like the skirt she's wearing. It's funny that she mentions Gummi Bears, since apparently some Japanese cryptographer has figured out how you can use the kind of gelatin found in Gummi Bears to create a fake finger good enough to fool fingerprint detectors 80% of the time. Security guy: "You seem very upset, Joan. Take a breath." Joan leans in and asks, "Fascist God? That's nice." Oy. Talk about your overreaction. The security measures may be repressive and even oppressive but God, it bugs my ass when people refer to everything they don't agree with or don't like as "fascism" or "Nazism." Those words shouldn't be thrown around carelessly. She says she hopes he's pleased with his work here: "You're being cursed by the entire student body, you know." Security God: "I didn't do this. I merely provide choices." Joan: "Adam was just starting to do his art again and now the teacher jets out of here. This totally sucks!" Security God: "'Suck' is a relative term, Joan. Things could be much worse than this." Joan: "Or much better." Security God says she's catching on: "It all depends...." Joan puts her hands to her head in exasperation and says, "On our choices. Yes, I know. But we don't know how things are gonna turn out until after we choose and then it's too late! This is not a good system." Security God trots out a favourite cant: "It's a perfect system, Joan. But very well argued. You'll be an excellent addition to the debate team." Joan can't believe it: "I'm already a subdefective. You want me to devolve into a toad?" Security God: "What? A lively exchange of ideas in search of the truth?" Isn't that what the internet was supposed to be? I'm not hopeful, here. ["It's definitely full of both subdefectives and toads, in my experience." -- Wing Chun] Security God asks, "Who wouldn't love that?" Joan: "Um, me." He just stares at her as he shouts, "!" Joan grabs her bag and stalks off.
Toni and Will are in a hallway at the hospital. She's briefing him on the case of the Reverend Richard Yardley, a beating victim who was discovered by a maintenance man in the alley behind his church. His wallet was untouched. Will comments, "So we know the guy who did this wasn't greedy." They enter Yardley's room, where a doctor is examining the man, whose swollen, purple face shows evidence of a severe beating. The doctor says, "His skull is fractured; arm broken, collarbone, three ribs, internal bleeding...." Will: "Almost dead. I get it, Doc." Will speaks to the man, who stirs slightly; Will explains who he is, asking if Yardley has any idea who might have attacked him. He shakes his head slightly. Will: "Any idea why?" Yardley weakly says one word: "Gay." Will: "Someone did this because you're gay?" Yardley's unable to answer. Will and Toni glance at the doctor, and they leave as Will says, "But he wasn't greedy."
In the Administration office, it's pandemonium, because every student in school now needs a late slip. Ah, mindless adherence to bureaucratic rules. You gotta love it. Joan stands there and remarks loudly to her mother, who's madly writing late slips, "Wow, this heightened security has really made the school function better, hasn't it, Mom?" Helen: "Not now, Joan. I'm a little stressed, in case you're blind." Joan petulantly holds out her hand for her late slip, which Helen gives her, along with her history book and a paper she was working on, which Joan left in her room. Joan's annoyed: "You were looking through my room?" Helen: "Sometimes you forget things. I was trying to help. That's what a mother does." Joan mutters, "A helicopter mother." Helen doesn't get what she's talking about and Joan explains: "Helicopter: hovering, always overhead. I didn't need these today. That's why I left them in my room!" Helen hands out another late slip and turns to Price to ask if they can forego the formality of the late slips: "The teachers understand why the kids aren't in class." Price: "You want the system to break down on the first day?" Grace: "We can hope." Adam tells Helen he wants to drop Art. Helen: "What?" Grace: "It's the only class you like, Rove. Without Art to break up your day, you're going to get all morose...and 'morose' belongs to me." Actually, I thought she was covering "terminally pissed" and "alienated" and Adam was handling "morose" and "confused." Adam: "The teacher's gone, yo. They're gonna have one lame sub after another teaching us how to draw a dog. I'll work on my own, in my shed." Helen tells Adam he needs art on his transcript if he's going to go to art school. He makes a dismissive face but she adds, "I know that you think you don't want to go to college, but you might someday. Give yourself the option." Joan pipes up: "Option! That's good, Mom. You need them...options. I have a friend that's into...options." Helen, Grace and Adam just stare at her. Joan: "Forget it." Helen tells Adam that Price charged her with finding a new art teacher, and she promises to find a good one. Adam: "Yeah, there are tons of inspiring artists lining up to teach high school." Helen's sure she can find at least one. Grace, Adam and Joan all shuffle out.
There's a shot of an angel statue with some blood spattered on its head. At least I think it's blood. Toni tells Will she spoke to a neighbour across the street from the church who was on her porch when Yardley was attacked. She saw a blue American car with a big dent on the side pull into the alley. Will tells her to try to get make and model information from the witness. Hey, look at that: "Special Guest Star: Christopher Marquette." Is that new, or have I missed it before? Anyway, the news is out that he's been made a full regular cast member for season. Which rules. Now let's get Becky Wahlstrom in that situation, too. Toni says she spoke to church staff, who were surprised to learn that Yardley's gay. Will: "Not the guy who beat him." He gestures to the car they're standing in front of and says, "I mean, using the victim's blood to write this on the car...." The windshield has the word "Sinner" on it. Will: "Oh, yeah, we're dealing with a true believer here." Toni: "This has nothing to do with God, Will." Will: "Not much does, from the looks of this."
AP Chem. Ms. Lischak is strutting around the class, waving her pointer: "Okay, place your reagent in your calorimeter and put a fire under your H20 bath. Excite those molecules, people!" She whaps her stick down on the desk of Team Indifferent (Grace, Joan, and Adam) with a whipcracking sound. "Start that fiery tango of particles, bodyslamming into each other...." She's a nut, but she's growing on me, I guess. Though it seems her teaching will pretty soon push the class into NC-17 territory. Friedman turns to Grace and asks if it hurt to get her navel pierced. Grace: "Dude, don't talk about my navel." Friedman oozes: "Some people find the pain very erotic. Was it?" Joan: "You are foul." There's a great shot of Grace and Joan sitting so close their arms are pressed together from elbow to shoulder as Joan tilts her head very close to Grace's shoulder. They're obviously much more comfortable with each other than they used to be. If you're looking for some Joan/Grace HoYay!, I think you could find some in this shot. Friedman: "Eroticism isn't negative, Joan. It's a part of life." Grace: "Not yours." Let's have that be all that is said on the subject of Friedman and eroticism. Glynis chirps: "He's right. It's a fact that the...oddest things can arouse powerful feelings of...you know...." Luke glances nervously at Glynis, who is, of course, looking at him. He gets more nervous when his sense that she is directing her comments at him is confirmed. Joan and Grace just watch this in silence. Glynis suddenly tries to defuse the tension she's created by explaining, "I've been teaching a health class to middle school kids at the Y." I've never seen Mageina Tovah in anything else, so I don't know if that's her real voice, but if it's not, I wish she'd stop it. It's so chirpy and has too much of a forced nerdish quality. If it is...well, I'll adjust. I got used to Emily Procter's voice. I just think Glynis would be a better character if they let her be more natural. Glynis tweets: "They're so sweet!" She makes a panicked face and goes back to her work. I wish she weren't so cartoonishly birdlike.
Grace tells Joan and Adam that she's sneaking off campus for lunch and wants to know who's joining her. Joan: "I can't. I'm joining the debate team." Luke: "What?" Glynis: "Excellent! I'm on the debate team." Friedman: "Me, too." Except when he says it, like most things he says, it sounds like Joey Tribbiani asking, "How you doin'?" Joan smiles at Glynis, and then gives Friedman an unenthusiastic look: "Yeah, I know." Grace: "Cheerleaders, chess team...now debating? There's easier ways to bring pain into your life." Yeah, you could get a piercing. (Actually, Amber Tamblyn already has piercings in "interesting places," according to some celebrity rag I read at a checkout.) Or date Friedman. Joan claims, "I'm a joiner, okay? I like to be involved." Grace: "Becoming involved in the increasingly totalitarian regime of this school makes a mockery of involvement." Joan: "Grace, it's debate team, not North Korea!" Grace: "Save your breath. Do I look like I'm on the team?" Joan sighs. Adam continues watching both of them with his usual passive interest in their arguments.
Kevin's in the break room at work. He's playing Exposition Fairy while talking to Rebecca about Yardley: "Graduated Harvard Divinity 1989, was a chaplain during the first Gulf War, started an outreach program for at-risk kids, and took over the church last May. All things worthy of a beating. How's he doing?" Rebecca, eating her lunch out of a disposable plastic container, says he's going to make it: "But they think there's brain damage. He'll never be the same...I mean...he's going to have a lot to deal with...I didn't mean...." Kevin smiles and says it's okay: "I'm just sorry me [sic] being vertically challenged makes you uncomfortable." Rebecca: "You know, that's getting really tiresome." Kevin: "Tell me about it. You know what it's like trying to get something off the top shelf?" She says she's not taking the bait: "This is not about you being in that chair. And if us getting close makes you uncomfortable...." Kevin replies, "It was a kiss, Rebecca. One kiss." Actually, I seem to remember that it was more than one. She stands up and says, "You're right. And neither one of us can stop thinking about it. Dinner, my place, Friday night. We'll sort things out then."
Joan's watching the debate team. Glynis is chirping at some guy about polar ozone depletion. Friedman pounds his fist on the desk after she makes a particularly chirpy point. Her opponent starts a comment with "Every study shows...." and Friedman interrupts: "'Every study'? What kind of citation is that?" The teacher rings a little bell and says, "Okay, ducklings! Pas mal." "Ducklings"? The teacher tells Friedman, "Your valid point is seriously compromised by your belligerent tone. Amend it." And while you're at it, seriously consider another hairdo. This Afro-with-a-part is just...not good. It's not Donald Trump bad -- precious little is -- but it's still not doing my corneas any favours. He asks the class whether Affirmative properly established significance and harm, and ignoring the hands that shoot up, calls on the "mystery lady" at the back of the room: Joan. She introduces herself and admits that she has no idea what he's talking about. He replies that he assumes she has an interest in debate, or she wouldn't be there. He asks her who she thought was more persuasive. Joan struggles to decide and eventually says, "Glynis? But I disagree with her." The teacher comments: "The beauty of debate. I would imagine that eloquent oxymoron is one of the reasons you're joining us?" Joan: "I'm dying to be an elegant moron...." The class titters. The teacher starts pairing them off for a public debate that's going to be held on Thursday. He directs Joan to sit down to a boy he refers to as "Brooks," and tells them their topic: "'Resolved: The new security measures at Arcadia High School create a more productive learning environment for all.' You'll be pro." Joan panics: "This is my first time!" She adds, whispering: "I'm totally an amateur." The teacher explains what he meant. Joan: "Great." She turns to her partner and introduces herself, adding, "As you probably know, I suck at debate." He replies, stuttering severely: "So do I." He introduces himself as Scott, and shakes her hand. He says he's sorry she wound up with him. Joan says it's okay, smiling reassuringly. Until Scott looks away, and the smile is replaced with a look of apprehension.
Joan's in the school library working at a bank of computers. She's griping quietly about the "stupid internet" when the large blonde girl sitting opposite her asks her what the problem is. Joan complains about the results (264,000+ pages) that were returned for a simple search. The girl opposite is eating something -- I think it's a granola bar. Why? Why do fat people always have to be eating? Why couldn't she just be a fat person using the computer? I find it really disappointing that this show -- which is usually above such weak stereotyping -- succumbed to this. The other girl asks her what she's researching. Joan says, "Zero-tolerance policies in schools." The other girl replies, "Interesting topic. Are you pro or con, Joan?" She continues chomping away as Joan gives her the eye. She says, "I'm annoyed, as long as you're asking. Can I have a bite of that? I had to skip lunch for this, remember?" Granola Bar God looks dismayed about having to share her granola bar -- because of course, fat people are not only pigs, they're greedy pigs -- and reluctantly hands it to Joan, who thanks her and then asks, "How do you expect me to be on a debate team with someone who can't even talk? I mean, I feel bad for him and everything, but...debate is really a speaking thing, you know? And there's [sic] time limits. I mean, he would get, like, two words out before the bell went off. It's humiliating." Granola Bar God asks, "Well, how do you think he feels?" The eagle-eyed librarian notices Joan, whose back is to her, putting some food in her mouth, and tells her, "No eating in here, Ms. Girardi." Granola Bar God makes little effort to hide a satisfied smirk. Joan asks, "So this is about Scott?" Granola Bar God: "Everything is connected, Joan. You should have learned that by now." Frink: "No kidding." Joan sighs and rolls her eyes: "This whole 'inscrutable' thing is getting very old, you know." Granola Bar God whispers that she put Joan in debate because "it's an excellent way for people to find their own voice." Joan: "So it is about Scott!" Granola Bar God stands up and advises, "Try adding more search terms. Narrow it down." She wanders off with a Godwave as Joan asks a little too loudly: "Wait, how can I cure someone's stuttering in two days?" The librarian admonishes her.
Grace is hustling through the hall alone. A few feet behind her, Friedman is telling Luke, "You gotta forget about Grace, dude." Luke: "I get these feelings. I know it's a biological reaction, glandular and...." Friedman says it's not biological, it's psychological: "You're always throwing yourself against the one gate that's locked. And why? Because you're afraid of going through the gate and enjoying the pleasures of the garden...." Shut it, Dr. Kinsey. I'll bet you haven't even been kissed. Try to become the master of your own johnson before you horn in on Luke's sex life. Luke insists he's not afraid of "going through the gate." Friedman asks, "Then why are you always walking past the one gate that's wide open? And don't tell me you don't know who I'm talking about!" Luke, somewhat unhappily: "Glynis?" Friedman: "She's wacky for you, dude." Luke pounds his forehead twice with his fist. Friedman says that when he took Glynis to the dance, she only talked about Luke: "Extremely annoying, but, uh...it's 'cause I was wearing cologne and everything." Yeah, whatever, stinky. Luke opens his locker and says he can't simply transfer his feelings from one person to another. Friedman: "Of course you can! It's built into our DNA. Did you see the look Glynis gave you in Chem today? That's a look you usually have to download." Snerk. I'm sure Friedman would know. Actually, that's a pretty good line. It's just annoying that it has to come from him. Luke slams his locker closed and says, "Okay. I appreciate the rather base concern, but I can take care of my own love life." Friedman nods: "Right...in the shower." He wanders off down the hall as Glynis comes toward them. She smiles and waves ambivalently at Luke, who waves politely back.
Will and Toni are questioning a suspect in Yardley's beating. He claims he was home when it happened, and states that he's not saying any more until his lawyer arrives. Will says that two witnesses have identified his car. He adds, "The little league bat you used -- your kid's, nice touch -- was found in a dumpster two blocks away. But you were home the whole time. I'm sure your lawyer will find that an excellent defense." The suspect says he's not talking to Will, who explains that when a perp remains silent and remorseless, the jury has a tendency to give him the max. Isn't it usually the judge who decides the length and severity of a sentence? Doesn't the jury simply make a finding of innocence or guilt? Will asks Toni what the maximum sentence is in this case; she says, "Forty years. No parole." Will: "A small price to pay for doing the Lord's work." The suspect asks, "You think God intended someone like him to minister to people?" Will isn't sure: "I don't have [God's] phone number, like you seem to." The suspect starts welling up and asks, "What should I have done? He touched my boy." Toni looks up from her scribbling. The suspect goes on: "He molested my son. Fifteen. What the hell would you have done if somebody did something like that to your kid? What the hell would you have done?" He cries a bit and tries to compose himself. If this is the first they've heard about this, then what was with that "nice touch" remark a few minutes ago? Between that and the jury comment, the writing was pretty weak for such a short scene.
Dinner time at the Girardi house. Helen and Luke are making dinner while Joan studies at the kitchen table. I like how helpful Luke is -- he always seems to be helping more with the cooking than the other two. Will's looking through some papers and asking what they are. Joan says they're stuff for her mother to sign: "Permission slips and tests." Will reads a permission slip and says, "You can't do this. It says there's a danger of physical injury." Joan: "It's a nature walk. We're going to be looking at beetles." He persists, and Joan takes her book to another part of the kitchen, whining, "Mom!" Helen tells him it always says that: "It was on their permission slip when they went to see Hairspray." Will wants to know why they went to see that: "How is that 'school'?" Helen: "It's theatre, honey!" ["Plus it's loaded with local Maryland colour!" -- Wing Chun] Helen takes the papers and asks Will to set the table.
Kevin wheels in, wondering if Helen knows where his blue shirt is. She says it's in the laundry, and that she'll wash it tomorrow. Joan: "Don't worry, it'll be ready for your date." Kevin plays dumb: "Who said anything about a date?" Luke: "Oh, Rebecca called. Wanted you to bring some dessert." Will: "You and Rebecca have a date?" I would have thought this is the place where someone in his family -- most likely his law-and-order father -- would finally say something about the issues involved in dating his boss, but no. Luke says Rebecca's cooking dinner for her and Kevin. Kevin: "So's Mom. Doesn't mean I'm dating her." Joan: "That's a disgusting analogy." Will asks if other people are going to be there, or just Rebecca. Joan: "Ju-u-u-u-st them." Will pulls out his Fat Tony voice: "Oh, yeah, that's a date." Luke smirks. Joan: "Mom, don't look -- the men are leering."
Kevin mentions the arrest of a suspect in the Yardley assault. Helen: "Attempted murder: that's one way to change the subject." Will says it's getting more complicated. Kevin: "I heard he accused the Reverend of abusing his son." Man, that got out quickly. Will: "No comment." Joan, referring to her textbook, lectures: "There's always a grey area in every situation, Dad. That's what a 'reasoned verbal exchange tries to explore. And logic can provide proof, even when there is no evidence.' What does that even mean?" Will wonders: "What's she doing now?" Luke says she joined the debate team. Helen: "As if she weren't contrary enough." Luke: "She has to argue in support of the draconian security measures instituted by the school." Joan adds, in her father's direction: "Assisted by you." He tells her to spend a day in his shoes: "You'd ask for more." Grace and Adam suddenly arrive, and Joan says, "We're going to study. Assuming we still have the right to assemble." As they wander off to another room, Helen tells Adam that she has lots of applicants for the art teacher position. Adam: "Cool."
Grace says, "We have to determine the heat of a solution of an ionic compound in water." Grace flops on one side of a large leather chair-and-a-half while Adam clambers over the back -- instead of just sitting in it normally -- and ends up beside her. Joan sits on the floor. Adam: "Okay, uh, O = Q heat + Q water + Q solution." Grace: "Yeah, but what does that mean?" Adam makes a wordless sound almost exactly like the one Homer Simpson makes when he's implying, "I don't know." Joan complains: "Can you believe what we have to learn to go to college to get away from our parents?" Adam's picked up a book: "Hey, this isn't chemistry, yo." Grace reads the titles of the books on the table: "The Necessity of Martial Law? Abdicating Civil Rights? Are you insane?" Joan says it's research. Grace bitterly remarks, "You really are the daughter of a cop, aren't you?" Joan says she just joined a club, and that it doesn't mean anything. Grace: "Words have power! You're giving power to this." Joan looks slightly bewildered. Adam: "Understanding and Controlling Stuttering?" Grace: "Oh, great, so she's helping someone stop stuttering so they [sic] can spout this repressive propaganda!" Grace certainly put that together quickly. Joan: "If I can help Scott speak in front of a crowd, don't you think that's a good thing?" Grace: "Not if you're turning him into a mouthpiece for tyranny!" Grace grabs her stuff and starts to run out. Joan stands up and says, "Waitwaitwaitwait...okay, I understand that we disagree about debate, but you're doing this whole seething, smoke-coming- out-of-your-ears-thing. We can disagree and still be friends!" Grace: "This is fundamental. This is basic human rights." Joan's taken aback. Grace adds, "Friend." Joan shouts after her, "I'm doing this to help Scott!" Adam raises his eyebrows: "Guess we're not going to study tonight, are we?" Guess not. So let's see those Iron Maiden boxers.
Will and Helen are brushing their teeth at the matching sinks in their bathroom. I want double sinks. Our bathroom is actually large enough for them (and a bidet, and possibly a separate shower and bath, and maybe even a ping-pong table) but I dread the plumbing nightmare. Frink, sweetie, if you're reading this, it's just idle daydreaming. I don't have any plans for a major bathroom renovation. Um, in the near future, anyway. Just read the recap and we'll talk later. Will wonders why Helen didn't tell him about the art-teacher vacancy. She says she doesn't tell him a lot of things that happen at school because most of it's boring: "But since you're suddenly interested, um, Marlene got an ugly paper cut today." Will wants to know if Helen's applying for the position: "You're qualified, the administration knows you, the kids love you." Helen tells him not to be ridiculous: "I could never take that job." He points out that she's already working. She says that the hours would be a lot longer, what with lesson plans, grading, and after-school conferences. Will: "And you'd love it." Helen looks slightly peeved, insisting, "This house would fall apart." Oh, I don't know. Luke knows how to make at least one perfect pancake. Will says they'd all pitch in. Boy, I'll bet the only line women have heard more than that one is "It's really good for your skin!" Helen tosses her hands in the air and says, "You just think it's so easy. Our genius son can't even find the salt." Well, I'm sure if it comes to that, he can probably manufacture some with his L'il Brainiac Chemistry Set. As they head for bed, Will insists they can manage: "We'll make a list of chores..." Helen: "Hey! I am not just some housekeeper you can replace. I'm a mother, and that means being available to my children whenever they need me. And the kids do still need me, Will." He agrees, but thinks they don't necessarily need her in the same way as in the past. Helen wants to know how Will would know: "You're at work all day. And when you are home, you run off every time you get paged." She says she's not blaming him for that; she's proud of his dedication to his job: "It's just...I would have thought you would understand me, too." Will says he doesn't want to fight, but that some things would have to change. Helen: "Well, they are not going to. Not now, not while my kids still need me." Will acquiesces, saying it's her decision. He kisses her, and they turn off the light. Helen lies there, wondering what all her vehemence is about.
Joan's talking to Scott in debate class (is it a class or an after-school club? I don't know. Seems like she wouldn't be able to get into a class this late in the year) about the notes he made for the debate and how professional they are. She says they totally convinced her, even though at first she completely disagreed. Scott: "Cool." She asks him to read them to her. He refuses. She pleads with him, saying he should have the confidence to shout his stuff out to the world. Scott -- who already seems slightly smitten with Joan (and who isn't? Is there anyone she doesn't have chemistry with?) -- attempts to comply. He gets halfway through a sentence, and Joan interrupts to tell him he's doing well, but that she wants him to look her in the eyes as he talks: "Eyeballs, confidence. Confidence, eyeballs. Got it?" Scott tells Joan he doesn't need another a speech therapist. Joan -- dismayed about having annoyed him -- stumbles over her own response: "I've always been into stuttering. I mean, how about that left hemisphere of the brain messing up the messages to the mouth? I mean, who hasn't read about that, huh?" Scott tells her he doesn't want to be there at all, but his father thinks it will help: "But it only makes things worse." Joan: "But you have so many great ideas in here. And some very impressive big words. I mean, it would take, like, two guys to lift these words. They're so big." I don't know, that just seems a little patronizing, but Scott laughs. Joan: "Look, all you have to do is find your voice, Scott. Just let the world know what great thoughts you have." Scott says, without stuttering: "My voice?" Joan: "Yeah. Listen, Winston Churchill, Marilyn Monroe, James Earl Jones, Carly Simon...they could all cure stuttering. So can you." Scott asks who Carly Simon is. Thanks, ya little punk. I don't feel old enough. Joan: "I don't know, but James Earl Jones is Darth Vader. That is so freaky." Scott laughs.
Will and Toni are questioning the son of the man charged with Yardley's assault. The boy, whose name is Daniel, says that his father was just trying to protect him. Will understands, but says that even if the allegations against Reverend Yardley are true, Daniel's father still must answer for his actions. Daniel looks Will in the eyes and says, "Well, they are true." Will says that the court will take that into consideration, but that they need to get a statement from him. Wouldn't this kid be likely to have a lawyer, mostly likely his father's, present while this is going on? I don't think it's required in this situation, but it just seems like he'd have lawyered up anyway. Daniel sighs heavily and says he was at the church, helping out as he often did. He describes Reverend Yardley as a nice person and a good listener. He says that, one day, the minister asked him to come to his office, and that's when it happened: "He, um...you know, he...put his, his hands on me...down there...and then...he tried to kiss me and touch me...and...." He shakes his head and shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Will tells him to take his time. Daniel: "And my dad told me not to spend time with him." Will: "Why?" Daniel asks what he means. Will: "Well, did he suspect something happened?" Daniel: "No, no...I just meant...you know...being gay, it's a sin."
You can tell Will thinks something's not right about Daniel's story. He and Toni exchange glances as he tells Daniel about what Joan said the other night, about logic's being a way to find truth: "And what you're telling me, son...it just doesn't seem logical." Daniel asks why. Will: "Well, if your father didn't know then that the Reverend was gay, why would he tell you to avoid him?" Daniel: "He touched me, and it was a sin." Will: "Then why didn't your father come to us first?" Daniel says he was so mad: "And he kept yelling about being gay. And he just wouldn't listen." Will: "So you tried to talk to him...." Daniel: "Yeah." Will: "You didn't want him to hurt Reverend Yardley...." Daniel says he didn't. Will continues: "But [Daniel's father] wanted to, because he was gay...not because he was a molester." Daniel -- who's becoming more agitated -- says that his father was just trying to protect Daniel: "He wasn't...you know...he didn't want me getting mixed up...." Will's puzzled: "'Mixed up'?" Daniel's really agitated now, shifting and trying to hold back tears: "I -- look...he told me I'd go to hell. He's my dad. He's supposed to know what's best, right?" Will wonders if Reverend Yardley was telling Daniel otherwise. Daniel nods, and appears to be struggling very hard to make Will drag it out of him. He cries while Will watches him, trying to put the last piece in place. Daniel finally says, "I...hated myself, being this way. I was always so alone, I wanted to kill myself. He said...the Reverend Yardley, he said that God loved me, no matter what. He wasn't...I mean, he understood what it was like. He wasn't even gay, and he understood me." Will: "So he didn't touch you?" Daniel: "He was my friend! When I tried to talk to my dad, he just screamed that the Reverend made me a fag. He ran out of the house telling me I'd see what happened to sinners like him. But I didn't know what he was going to do, I swear to God. I'm sorry! He was my friend, the Reverend was my friend." Daniel keeps sobbing and repeating that the Reverend was his friend.
Joan arrives at debate class, and Scott tells her that he compiled all the data and wrote an opening affirmation. Joan reads it and says: "This is fearsome, Scott. You did all this in one night?" He says that writing is no problem. Joan flips through the extensive binder he's prepared and says, "Apparently not!" Thinking for a moment, she says, "Writing is kind of like your voice, huh?" Scott guesses so. Joan: "The world can hear you this way. You can let people know what you think this way, right?" He asks what she's saying. She says he should be writing for the paper or something. Scott: "You mean, quit debate?" Joan: "No, no, not quitting -- moving on to what's right for you. Wouldn't you love to see your stuff in the paper?" Scott would. She urges him to do it for himself: "This is about you -- not your dad, not Mr. Enfield -- this is about you, your voice." Scott realizes that she's right, saying, "I'm a writer." Joan nods. Scott says, "I quit." Mr. Enfield overhears and says, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Brooks?" Scott repeats, "Quit. I quit." He grabs his bag and thanks Joan and leaves. Joan smiles to herself. "I totally have this down, God."
Joan and Helen are getting groceries. Joan asks if the art-teacher position has been filled yet. Helen says it hasn't, and that Price claims he's going to fill the position by Friday no matter what. Joan: "Adam told Price he should hire you." She adds a little chortle. Helen seems pleasantly surprised: "Really?" Joan: "Yeah, can you imagine? You grading my friends? Ew and ew." Helen: "I used to teach, you know. And I've been exhibited." Joan: "What are you saying, Mom? You can't teach at my school. It's like incest or something. I'm gonna go get the hamburger meat." Helen looks slightly hurt as Joan takes off.
Joan asks the butcher for two and a half pounds of hamburger meat. As he prepares the meat, he asks, "So...you quit debate, huh?" Joan replies, "Shouldn't you be in the produce section? I always thought God would be a vegetarian." Guess not, but at least you can probably trust this guy not to have his thumb on the scale. Butcher God laughs, saying, "You know, I was surprised. You were only in debate for...." Joan: "Three days. Because I'm good. I am so getting this whole mission thing. I'm getting even better at the riddles. 'Finding his voice.'" She says that was a good one, because at first she thought she was supposed to cure Scott's stuttering. She rambles on, directing God to choose lean beef because her mother's on a health kick. Butcher God tells Joan she's not done: "I wanted you to join the debate team to be in the debate." Joan: "Come on, if I argue in favour of that stupid policy, Grace is totally going to write me off!" Butcher God: "So your position has no validity at all?" Joan: "Yeah. Ha! Grace is all political and knows about this stuff. And I know what a drag it is to get searched." Butcher God is incredulous: "So you think believing something to be true makes it true?" Joan thinks about this for a moment and replies, "Well, if believing in things is wrong, that would put you out of business pret-ty fast, wouldn't it?" He says, "I don't exist because people believe in me! I simply exist, whether they believe in me or not." Joan sighs and plops her hand on the counter in exasperation as he continues, "Holding onto beliefs, that's not truth. Open your mind, Joan! Read what Scott gave you. Be a part of that debate tomorrow." She doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that she'll go along.
Joan and Adam are walking through a school hallway together while Joan bitches about Grace: "I can't believe Grace won't talk to me." Adam -- who looks cute with his hood pulled up over his head -- asks, "Why? I went for weeks without talking to you, and I can't hold a grudge like she can." Joan says Adam had a good reason: "She's being a jerk! You don't think she's right, do you?" He explains, "I usually don't listen to what's going on unless I hear my name." Genius. I think I may adopt that policy. Joan is barely listening, though, as she rants on: "I mean, there are arguments on the other side. Scott put together some amazing facts that I couldn't get out of reading. Grace could at least come to the debate and listen!" Adam says she is. He's wearing an interesting-looking t-shirt with a skeleton on it, but I can't see much of it. Joan: "Oh. How about you?" Adam: "Me?" Joan: "Yeah, are you coming?" Adam asks if she wants him to. Joan: "Well, yeah." He says he'll come. She stops and asks, "Adam...we're okay now...aren't we?" Adam seems caught off-guard somewhat, and replies, "S-sure," trying to sound more okay than he feels. Joan gazes at him and smiles gently, as if she needs just a little bit more reassurance. Adam adds, "We're...us." That seems to be enough for her, and she smiles softly again as she walks off. Adam follows.
In another hallway, Helen's hustling alongside Price, who's propelling himself forward with his usual military sense of mission, and hands him the applications for the art teacher position, saying she put the best one on top. He tells her to put them in his inbox and he'll look at them in the morning. Helen begins rambling about how even the best guy wasn't ideal, because he tends to go on: "I had to sit and listen to him denigrate Abstract Expressionism. He feels de Kooning and Pollock are overrated. They're only responsible for one of the major artistic revolutions of the twentieth century...." Price: "Do I seem engaged in this discussion, Helen?" She admits, "No. As usual, no." She goes off to put the applications in his inbox. Along with a big pile of dog turds, I hope.
Kevin wheels up to Rebecca at work and tells her he spoke to his father about the assault on Reverend Yardley, and wrote a follow-up: "You can use it if you want. The kid's going to live with his aunt. When he went to say goodbye to his father, he wouldn't even look at him." I'm sure Daniel will be thrilled to have these details splashed all over the newspaper. Rebecca looks at the article and says it's "wonderful" as she puts her hand over Kevin's, where it's resting on her desk. Man, she just does not care who knows about their relationship. I guess she's oblivious to the seething hotbed of resentment and gossip that no doubt surrounds them. She adds, "A little loose and free with the commas, but hey, it's tight. Descriptive." He thanks her, anxiously watching her hand on his. He says, pulling it away and patting her hand, "Uh...listen, uh...about tonight...uh, I can't make it. I have a family thing." (Continuity error: their date was supposed be Friday, but the debate, which has yet to happen, is supposed to be on Thursday.) Rebecca: "Oh." He apologizes for the short notice. He starts to wheel away, trying to avoid her gaze. Rebecca says, "Kevin...we can just have a nice dinner." He wheels back a little closer and says, "No, we can't. It's already more than that." He hesitates and explains, "This...this used to be easy for me, Rebecca. I mean, I used to know how to handle a night like this, but...I'm not that guy anymore." Rebecca: "I never knew that guy. I invited the guy you are now." Kevin considers that, and explains further: "And, uh...I think I should figure out who that guy is, first." He wheels off, leaving Rebecca sitting there looking sad.
Friedman and Luke are walking through the hall at school when Friedman suddenly spots Glynis sitting on the stairs ahead of them, absorbed in studying her index cards for the debate. Friedman puts his arm out to stop Luke short and call his attention to Glynis, and just says, "Go." God, Back off already. Luke rolls his eyes as he allows Friedman to push him along, saying, "I have doubts." Friedman: "And you think your doubts have any validity? You were certain about Grace. You were dead wrong. It's not your field, dude." Man, what is Friedman's deal? He's just not so altruistic that Luke's happiness is foremost in his mind. So I figure he's either looking for vicarious thrills, or trying to get Luke out of the way so he can try for Grace. As if Grace wouldn't be more likely to date John Ashcroft than Friedman. Either way, ew. Friedman gives Luke another push, saying, "Go."
Luke says to himself, "I'm engaging in an exploratory mission, that's all." He walks up to Glynis, who's wearing a pink turtleneck and a red pantsuit (with sleeves that are slightly puffed at the shoulder and are way too short) that I'm pretty sure Mary Tyler Moore wore circa 1974. He wishes her good luck on the debate. She stands up, and since she's on the steps, in addition to being tall already, she's about a head taller than Luke. Glynis: "Thanks! It's kind of awkward that I'm opposing Joan, but...." Why? It's not like you're going to be her sister-in-law, Missy, so don't get any ideas. Luke doesn't say anything, and Glynis asks if he's okay: "You're flushed and your breathing is rapid and shallow." Luke walks away a bit, and she comes down the stairs so that they're both on the same level. Luke just continues gazing at her, and Glynis says, "Oh." Luke: "You must -- you must be the best teacher at the Y...." Glynis natters on: "I feel it's important to have a complete grasp of the information in order to teach the kids." Luke: "Your breathing is also increasing. It has to do with restricted capillaries and increased blood flow. You know." She knows. We get a shot of their feet edging closer and closer by small increments as Glynis geeks out completely: "Uh, the hypothalamus gland processes external and intellectual stimuli which causes -- tells the body how to respond." Frink: "..." Luke: "Yeah, I read the Walen and Roth study...we seem to share a lot of the same interests." Glynis gets chirpy again: "Yes -- so you must know that if my heart rate continues to increase, I might get lightheaded, which wouldn't be good..." Luke: "No, not at all..." Glynis: "So I should go..." Luke: "Of course." They're about six inches apart now.
Luke and Glynis finally kiss rather urgently, and I try not to think about mother birds putting food in their babies' mouths. They finally stop, and Glynis stares at him a bit, and then makes a couple of weird panicky faces, freaks out completely, and bolts off with hand truck full of documentation for the debate. Man, she is a strange bird. Luke turns around to watch her go. And there, of course, is Grace, standing quietly in a doorway, having seen the whole thing. She gives him a wry, regretful smile, and blinks slowly, opening one eye slightly before the other. Quite a few viewers seem to have interpreted it as a wink, but I've watched it more times than is healthy, and I really don't agree. I think it's just a slight facial tic of Wahlstrom's. I think that if Grace were really completely okay with it, she would have walked past Luke with a snappy or sarcastic comment, instead of ducking back into the hallway and disappearing. I don't think she's okay with it at all. And frankly, neither am I. I think Michael Welch and Mageina Tovah did well with the material they were given, but I just don't buy that Luke was so easily swayed, nor that even if he were, this is the time and place he would choose to approach her. I don't know, the whole thing just felt a little to sitcom-y for this show.
Joan's handling the pro side of the debate all alone, having dispatched Scott to his nascent journalism career. She's at one podium; Glynis and Friedman are at the other. I suppose to be fair to Glynis I should point out that I think Joan's sweater sleeves are too short, too. Maybe that's what all the kids are wearing now: three-quarter length sleeves over wrist-length. I wouldn't know. I just think it looks bad. There are maybe a hundred audience members; Helen, Grace, Adam, Price, Luke, and Scott are all there. Joan flips through the binder Scott prepared, looking for a study she wants to cite. She flips, she speaks hesitantly, she laughs nervously, the microphone feeds back. It's not going well. She tries to continue, dropping her notes and becoming more rattled: "Psychologists at Johns Hopkins -- big, big important medical school -- have found that while increased security can also create a sense of anxiety, that the anxiety is nothing to the sense of security which allows students to focus on their studies...." Grace interjects: "So they can grow up and be part of a system which will take away even more of our civil rights." Mr. Enfield turns around and tells her, "This is not a free-for-all. It's a debate." He tells Joan to continue. Grace shakes her head slightly to herself; Joan is even more rattled now. Joan tries to cite a statistic from Florida but her voice is getting shakier. Grace stands up and shouts, "You know, this whole debate is a joke!" Joan sighs. Friedman says quietly, "I have a very strong rebuttal." Grace continues shouting: "Like it matters! No matter what happens in this debate, those metal detectors will still be there. They will still stop us and search us!" Price asks her to leave. She turns and snarls at him, "Oh, gee, remember free speech, Mr. Price?" Mr. Enfield: "Remember decorum? Manners? Civility?" Grace: "Yeah, all the things they use to keep us down? Well, guess what? Today is about freedom!" Joan, upset: "You call what you're doing right now 'free speech?'" Mr. Enfield warns her that she's not debating Grace and advises her to stick to the rules. Friedman whispers to Glynis: "We are so going to win this debate." Grace: "That's right, Girardi! Party line. That's what it's about!" It will be interesting to learn where Grace's politics and attitudes come from. Not that she couldn't have simply arrived at them through reason and intellect, but there seems to be so much anger and emotion there that I can't help looking for other explanations, too. I sometimes wonder if she is the descendant of Holocaust survivors, or if that touched her family deeply in some way. I suppose it's also possible that she's getting marching orders from God, too -- though Grace seems even less likely to listen to something like that than Joan.
Price moves to physically remove Grace. Joan hollers, "And what's it about for you, Grace? Your idea of freedom is a world where everybody agrees with you?" Grace: "You believe in this crap?" Joan says she doesn't know what she believes: "I know Ramsay came in here with a gun! I know people could have died! You, me! You said I think like this because my father's a cop. Like that's bad?" She walks out from behind the podium and keeps shouting: "Yeah, my dad is a cop, and you may think that makes him some kind of pig, but he deals with those guns every day! This is not some political thing for him! This is reality! He's had them pointed at him and shoved in his face and that makes it real for me, too, because every time I hear the cops are someplace and shots are fired, I wonder if I'm ever going to see my father again!" Grace blinks back tears and swallows. Joan: "I --I don't think we should have to live in like, some prison. That sucks! But I do know we have to deal with this! We have to work something out!" There's a shot of Adam, riveted by Joan's passionate outburst. Joan: "Even if it's not what we started believing in the first place." She puts her hands to her head and says, "I know I'm mouthing off, Mr. Enfield, and I can't cite some report to back up my theory -- this is just how I feel!" Worn out, she calms down a bit and apologizes for messing up the debate. She comes down from the stage and runs out of the room down the aisle between the seats. Her mother watches her go.
Joan runs outside and stands near the spot where I think she had her first or second conversation with Cute Guy God. Security God walks over in a black toque and says, "You made quite an impression in there." Joan says she doesn't need the sarcasm: "I tried to debate, I tried to do what you wanted and I lost it, okay?" Security God thinks it was super: "What you did up there was true. You found your voice." Joan's real chuffed about that: "Great! Great! Thanks for the lesson. It cost me my friend." Security Guard: "What? Because you two don't agree about things?" Joan tries to compose herself slightly: "I...don't have a lot of friends. Okay?" Security God: "Do you know what grace is, Joan?" Joan: "Yeah! Pissed off!" He means the kind with a lower-case "G": "Do you know the meaning of 'grace'? It's a touch of truth, that lets you see the world in a new way. It's a gift that can only be felt when you're open enough to accept it."
Security God walks off just as Grace comes bursting out the door. When she sees Joan, she slows down to a normal pace and walks over to Joan's side. Joan doesn't seem to hear or notice her. Grace says, "Um...I don't -- I don't really apologize, so, um...." She walks around to face Joan, and continues, "So this isn't happening, but, uh...I just shoulda thought about you." Joan holds it together for a moment, but then her faces caves in on itself and she starts whimpering and crying. She bows her head and puts her hands to her face, while Grace hunts in her pockets for some Kleenex. When she finds some, she offers it to Joan, who takes it, whispering, "Thank you." Grace ventures a very tiny smile, and I wonder if Joan will try to hug her, though I don't think she's quite that bold, and if she did, what Grace would do. Joan wipes her nose slightly and looks at Grace with a certain amount of forgiveness and relief, and says, "'Kay." Becky Wahlstrom was really good here.
Later that night at the Girardi house, Helen and Will are in the kitchen having coffee as she tells him about the debate: "You would have been so proud of her, Will." Will replies, "Somehow, these days, every time we're proud of Joan...it involves chaos." I can't escape the feeling that those words have huge implications for the future. The music in this scene is "Have A Little Faith In Me." He asks: "Do you think that's good?" Helen thinks they don't have a choice. Then she tells him that she applied for the position of art teacher today: "After everything calmed down, I realized how much braver my littler girl was than me, so I filled out the application, I threw the others away, and I just left mine in Price's inbox." Minus dog turds. Helen says Will's the first person she's told. Will looks really pleased. Helen: "I am so scared, Will." Will: "You can't be brave if you're not scared." Helen: "It'll be okay?" Will: "Sure."
Will kisses Helen as Joan comes down the kitchen stairs and asks why he's home so late. He says, "Paperwork." Joan gets a drink out of the fridge and stands behind her parents, looking at her father for a while. She finally says, "You were going to come give me a kiss, right?" Will: "Always." Joan comes over and hugs him around the neck from behind. Will seems slightly surprised, and Helen smiles at him. Joan wanders back upstairs. Will tells Helen: "Just don't flunk her. I don't think any of us could handle that." They laugh and kiss as the camera drifts away from them and around the corner into darkness.