All the Girardis are attending one of Kevin's wheelchair basketball games, watching him play. Kevin sinks a basket and his parents stand up and cheer. Luke looks indifferent. Joan cautions her parents, "Hey, hey, hey! No parental high-fiving!" Will takes Luke in an affectionate, if overly energetic, headlock and scrubs his hand through Luke's hair, asking what he thinks of his brother. Luke replies, "Are you mussing my hair?" Joan: "They're regressing. Sports do that to people." Wow. That might be the earliest I've ever gotten a shout-out in any episode I've ever recapped. The game continues, and some loudmouth yob right behind Will is screeching encouragement. Will turns with annoyance and says, "Hey, you know, I might need this ear later." Yob says, "You're at a game, dude. Chill." Will snarls, "Look, there's cheering and then there's moronic screaming for no apparent reason." Really? 'Cause I'm sorta vague on the difference. Helen is taken aback by Will's behaviour, but doesn't say anything. The kids aren't paying a lot of attention -- Luke notices more than Joan does. Yob asks if they have to take it outside. Will says, "I need a hot dog," and takes off. Joan: "Is that, like, guy menopause, or...?" Luke says he's gotta go. His mother says it's not even halftime yet. Luke: "Well, unless any of you can explain how constitutional isomerism differs from stereoisomerism, I have to hit the books." Joan: "What, Luke, the physics of basketball doesn't interest you?" Luke: "The only interesting thing about the physics of basketball is how time and space combine to create a phenomenon known as Luke's departure." Hee. He leaves. Joan wonders to her mother: "What's with the collective male wig-out?" Helen doesn't know, but says Kevin seems fine. Joan decides she needs something to drink.
We see Will standing near an exit, as if he's fighting with himself about leaving. Joan, at the concession stand, notices. He goes out. The woman at the concession stand says, "Tick-tock. Burning daylight, here." Joan: "What daylight?" Concession Stand Lady: "It's a..." Joan: "Metaphor." I do believe it's Lunch Lady God, but I don't know where my tape of the first episode is right now, so I can't double-check. Now I don't know what to do with the avatar name. Should she always be Lunch Lady God? That won't make sense to new readers. Or is she now Basketball God or Concession Stand God? But that will confuse old readers. Or will we end up like the offspring of parents with pairs of hyphenated names, and be stumbling over "Lunch Lady-Concession Stand-Lemonade Stand God," like the poor Braxton-Hicks-Terwilliger-Bunker brood? Oy. I think I better just stick with Lunch Lady God. Avatars shouldn't be allowed to change jobs, okay? No doubt I'll have to start calling Powerwalking God something else soon, probably Pilates God or something. (There's a Pontius Pilates joke in there somewhere.)
Anyway, Lunch Lady God says, "You want orange, don't you?" Joan: "While I have you here, what's up with my dad?" Lunch Lady God requests a dollar. Joan hands it over, and Lunch Lady God says, "I want you to work with children." Joan complains that her question wasn't answered. Lunch Lady God: "I don't answer questions, sweet pea. And this you know." Joan: "But I gave you a dollar!" She tells Joan that was for the soda. Joan: "Work with children? What, like, in a sweatshop?" She wants Joan to do volunteer charity work: "Looks good on the résumé." She suddenly shouts, "Illegal defence!" Joan: "What?" Lunch Lady God tells her to go on, because she's missing the game. Joan wanders back to her seat; her father comes zipping up and puts his arm around her, grabbing her soda and asking for a sip. Joan asks, "Have you been smoking?" Will: "Of course not." Liar, liar, lungs on fire. Joan glances back at Lunch Lady God, making a gesture behind her father's back, pointing as if to ask, "What is his deal?" Lunch Lady God is as indifferent as a civil servant. Joan screws up her face and makes another gesture of frustration, waving her hand dismissively in God's direction. See, that's how Joan's different from other teenagers: she doesn't have bad hair days. She has bad God days.
Breakfast time at the Girardis' house. Joan's making toast when Helen comes in with her hair in a sloppy updo and two chopsticks (with some dangly things on the ends) poked into it. Joan looks at it, points, and says, "Uh...no. Just -- no." Helen takes her 'do apart and frets, "I can't be your school's art teacher! I don't remember the name of a single pre-Raphaelite, I never got Miró, and I like Ingres, which is so...unsophisticated, and I don't know anything about the metallurgical backlash." Joan: "How do you think I feel?" Well, there's a reason teenagers aren't known for their empathy. Helen gives her a look, a mixture of "I was in labour for how long for this kid?" and "I suppose I have to be the bigger person here," and thanks her for listening. Joan: "Hey, you're lucky I'm such a nice person. I could totally throw down on this but I'm just letting it happen." Helen removes the kicky little scarf she's tied around her neck, saying, "I don't know why, but somehow that's comforting." Joan struggles with the toaster; Helen makes the toast pop up and Joan catches it in her hands and then drops it, because of course it's hot. Good hand-eye coordination, there. She asks her, "How'd you do that?" Will comes in and says, "You have a superstar mother, she can do anything. And she's gonna be brilliant today." He embraces her and they start kissing. Joan: "Ew! I'm trying to eat here. I thought we established the kitchen as a no-PDA zone." Man, what is with her discomfort with seeing her parents touch each other? It just seems a little excessive.
Kevin wheels in, and Will says, "There he is!" Kevin smiles, more pleased than embarrassed, and says, "I scored eight points, Dad." Helen kvells: "You were a-mazing!" Joan, sitting at the table with her back to Helen, says to the room in general, "Mom's gonna blow." And indeed, she bursts into tears. No one reacts much; Will hands her a napkin. She says it's just stress and a little of seeing Kevin having so much fun. Luke comes in and starts packing up his books. Joan: "Mom's crying." Helen says she's done. Luke says he's late, as Will asks, "How about your brother last night, huh?" Luke: "Awesome." Kevin: "How do you know, geek? You left after two minutes." Luke: "Yes, to participate in that, uh, rarest of high school rituals: the pursuit of knowledge." In Joan's direction: "You might want to try it sometime." Through a mouthful of food she asks, "Hey, what's with attacking the bystander?" Kevin says, "I want you to stay time, Brain Boy!" He punctuates his words by punching Luke on the upper arm a couple of times -- kind of hard. Luke leaves, saying, "Yeah, I really missed the pummelling, Kev. Glad it's back." His parents both admonish Luke, but he's gone. Kevin: "I didn't hit him hard." Maybe the hittee is a better judge of that than you are. Joan: "Ha! We're a freak show." She gets up and says, "Bye," but as she's leaving, Kevin wheels up and intercepts her, forcing her onto his lap. She "oofs" and sort of laughs, saying, "That's old." Kevin: "You love it." She puts his arms around his neck and he wheels away with her, saying, "Knock 'em dead today, Mom." I'm glad he finally gets confronted about forcing his physicality on people in this episode. I've known people who are always grabbing, hitting, punching, shoving, et cetera, in so-called "playful" ways -- and I didn't like them. Keep your damn paws to yourself unless otherwise invited. Also: Amber Tamblyn has too much chemistry with everybody for the completely innocent sibling tomfoolery not to look at least a bit like something else. I'm just saying.
Once they're gone, Helen tells Will that Luke overslept again. Will: "Maybe our genius is morphing into a teenager." Helen moans, "Not another one..." Will: "I wanted to stop at two." They just smile warmly at each other. Well. That's pretty interesting. Given that, and the fact that Joan and Luke are only a year apart, I guess we can assume Luke was unplanned. One gets the sense Luke's figured that out, too. I think kids always sort of know that stuff. And then, add to that the whole "ignored and overlooked" complex, mix in the usual adolescent angst and turmoil, and frankly I think it's amazing Luke's as good a kid as he is. They should be counting their lucky stars.
Joan and Adam walk into school together, arm in arm. As they come around the corner, her head's even on his shoulder. That's pretty cozy. Grace is catching up behind them. She looks to be in her usual mood. Adam's saying, "I called, like, four thousand times, yo..." Joan: "And?" Adam: "My fingers were bleeding from dialing, so..." Joan: "Adam, did you get the tickets or not?" He reaches into his pocket and says, "Thursday night...chah, Jane! Look!" She squeals: "Aaah! Rove! You rock!" Adam: "White Stripes, Hogan County Forum!" Grace: "Go ahead, hand over to the corporate conglomerate. Buy t-shirts, too." Joan groans, "Oh, do you even listen to music?" Grace: "Nothing legal." Heh. Every time I think I couldn't love Grace more, someone happily proves me wrong. She adds, "Only a corrupt oligarchical system would make you pay for art." Joan: "Whatever. Jack White is hot." Adam: "So's his sister." Joan: "Girlfriend." Adam: "It's unresolved." Joan starts to argue, but Grace complains, "Going catatonic here!" She strides off, pissed, past a large colourful poster that says, "Volunteer 2 work with kids." Do not use numbers for letters or words. No, just don't do it. I don't care what your excuse is. There's a girl (Misti Traya) standing to the poster. Joan mutters, "That's subtle."
Joan walks up to the girl and says hi. The girl says hi back. Frink and I cringe at the sound of her voice. It's...it's...gadzooks, it's not good, people. I knew this was the girl who was going to come between Adam and Joan and naturally, I'm not predisposed to like her or anything, but I was willing to make the effort. I really was. Until she opened her mouth. It's variously nasal and squeaky and babyish and those are all things I cannot really stand -- at least not in anyone who's not Betty Boop. I hope she's not around for the long haul. I make a policy of not hating on people for things they can't control -- eye colour, height, et cetera -- but voice is one of those grey areas. And I'm already trying to deal with Glynis's voice. One per show is enough. Anyway, she's kind of short, has longish straight dark hair parted slightly off-centre, and is wearing a black leather jacket. She's pretty enough, I guess. I don't think she holds a candle to Joan, though. Before Joan can say any more, Adam notices some jewellery she's wearing and says, "That's a cool pin, yo." The girl says sheepishly, "It's, um...four hangers crushed and soldered together." Adam: "Did you do it?" She says she did. Joan: "Right. Neat-o. Hi, I'm Joan." The girl says her name's Iris. Joan says, "Well, I'm here to work with kids." Iris gives her a form to fill out. Joan starts doing so while Adam asks, "Are you in fifth period art?" She is. Adam: "I never noticed." Iris: "I know." They smile shyly at each other while Joan gives them the stink-eye.
Kevin and Bear are meeting at the Quality Café (same place Will was rewarded with free pie after blowing the whistle on every big municipal muckety-muck around). I guess Bear has decided to take his nickname literally, because he's all hair, between the huge sweep of head hair and all the bushy facial hair. I think dude needs to look into a trim. Kevin whispers that he's got a date with Rebecca: "It's an actual...date." Bear whispers, "Yes, I've heard of the concept." Okay, so all of sudden Kevin's figured out who he is? Actually, the scuttlebutt around the forums is that for some reason they switched the order of some episodes and this one was originally supposed to appear before the one. I don't actually know what the story is, but I know that things have seemed slightly off for the last couple of episodes and if it's true that they switched them around, it was not a completely successful or transparent move. Kevin says he can't chicken out anymore: "I'm on the tarmac, tower's giving me the thumbs up..." He wants the details. Bear wants to know why they're whispering and why they're speaking in code. Kevin looks embarrassed and says, "You know why." Bear: "So you want The Gimp Eye for the Straight Guy?" Ha! Kevin asks what it's like. Bear compares it to the proverbial blind man whose other senses improve after the loss of vision: "You'll be aware of sensations you never paid much attention to before. Skin. You have 19,000 sensory cells per square inch." Kevin nods, inhales, and almost seems to shiver. Bear: "If you like her, it can still be great, but it's more about her, and taking pleasure in her pleasure." I mention to Frink that I can remember the day -- not really all that long ago -- when that sort of sentiment wouldn't be on CBS at 8:15 PM. Frink: "It's a far cry from Three's Company." Kevin nods again, uncharacteristically bereft of comic commentary. Bear: "Just give a wave to the tower, get your wheels up, and enjoy the ride." They laugh about that, but Kevin still looks anxious as he sips his coffee.
Art class. Adam and Iris are sitting to each other. I pretend not to see. Helen talks about dynamic art, saying it's about one thing: "Emotional honesty." Adam says that's two things. No...it's really not. Helen smiles endearingly and says, "Right." She says her approach is not to critique or denigrate art but to encourage it: "Every form of expression is fair game -- the rougher, the better." Iris raises her hand to ask, "So it's okay to suck as long as we mean it?" The class titters. Adam's looking at her too fondly. Stop it. Helen smiles and says, "Something like that." Iris looks a little too pleased with herself. Helen wants them to start critiquing a portrait of someone with green skin. It's ever so vaguely -- and I mean vaguely -- Cubist, with very lame lines all around it, the kind of lines I think of as "New and Improved" rays. (In case it's not obvious: I'm here to denigrate art, when the need arises.) Helen wants everyone to say something positive about it. She starts with Adam. You can tell he's not bowled over. He thinks and says, "It's bold." Mild tittering. Iris kind of smirks at Helen.
There's a large community centre kind of room with a bunch of young kids all sitting at tables colouring and painting. Iris is there, annoying some kid by misapprehending her painting. Joan comes in, and Iris introduces her to the room. Joan and Iris walk together as Joan asks what they do with the kids. Iris: "Art therapy. Their mothers are domestic violence victims. Drawing helps to defuse the trauma. We work with them while their parents are in group therapy." Okay, wait a minute. First of all, the preferred terminology is "survivor," not "victim," and it has been for a long time. Second, a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old is running this program? "Art therapy" isn't just providing kids with supplies and unstructured time to use them. It's a whole field with ethics and standards and graduate programs. Third: Shouldn't Joan get some kind of training, some orientation? Something? Is this it? When I first volunteered at an AIDS hospice many years ago, my position did not even entail any contact with residents, but I had to do a sixteen-hour course just to organize the staff library. Anyway, Joan says, "Cool." Iris is puzzled: "Cool?" She just moves on, though, to showing Joan the schedule, where she's got Post-It notes booking Joan for 6:30-9:30 PM Thursday and Friday evening. Joan: "Thursday?" That's the night of the concert, of course.
Iris goes off to break up a paint fight, and Joan starts to shuffle the Post-It notes. From behind her, the voice of Little Girl God says, "Stick to the schedule, Joan." Joan turns, sees the back of Little Girl God, and notices that she's beckoning Joan over with her finger. Joan walks over to the table. Little Girl God is wearing a slate blue smock with some tiny print all over it, over some kind of burgundy top, along with a darker blue stocking cap with a red and white design on it. She's painting a rainbow. You'd think it'd be a pretty awesome rainbow, wouldn't you? Not so much. Yeah, sure, she can make the real thing. But as I said, I'm here to denigrate art. Joan sits down: "But I really want to go to the concert. Adam will kill me if I cancel!" Little Girl God puts the kibosh on the hyperbole: "He won't kill you." Frink does that, too. It's annoying. I can't get away with saying I'm "starving" or "freezing" or anything like that. Joan: "Please don't make me cancel on Adam. I can't stand him hating me again. It'd be like being in some Russian goulash." Little Girl God: "Gulag." She really emphasizes the final G. She adds, "I don't make you do things. I'm getting bored with saying that. Go to the concert if you want. By the way, they aren't brother and sister. They were a couple, but they broke up. Have fun." She gets up and walks away with a Godwave. Joan calls after her, "You know I'm not going, you jerk!" Everyone, including Iris, stares at the new chick who just called a little girl a jerk.
Roebuck is briefing Will and Tony about stuff. He says, "Gabe Fellowes, in an unabashed attempt to jump on the right side of the allied forces, is fast-tracking the crack house." Toni: "The one Will shut down?" Will: "And he refused to prosecute?" Toni: "And the DEA cried like a bunch of girls?" Roy: "Guys...I like the victory party, too..." Will: "We don't get a moment?" Roy says, "The big fish are on the docket week." Will sneers about having slept through the grand jury. Roy wants them to go back out and make sure they didn't miss any evidence. Will's annoyed that he's expected to do something uniformed officers would normally do. Roy thought Will would want to oversee the details. Will: "That's where they say God is..." You can tell he doesn't believe it. Roy asks him what the problem is. Will: "In this whole fall of Saigon scenario, we're not only giving Fellowes what he wants, but we're giving it to him on his schedule! Is that what you're telling me?" Roy's confused, thinking Will would have been happy to see dealer ass in jail sooner: "If there's another agenda, please advise." Will kind of remembers his place and says, "I work for you." He leaves. It seems like he's starting to regret not being in charge. Roy and Toni look at each other, puzzled.
AP Chem. Ms. Lischak is emoting her ass off about steam: "And as the liquid heats, the molecules vibrate, furiously pounding into each other until suddenly they can't stand it anymore and what? What? What do they do?" Why do I get the feeling her chemistry textbook comes with a cover illustration of Fabio crushing some delectable damsel in his beefy arms? She whaps her pointer in front of Luke and says, "Lukey G!" Glynis coughs. Luke: "I'm sorry, what?" Lischak tells him to keep up: "Overheated molecules! Wham, bam, slam-dancing! What coils? What bonds? What's erupting, L.G.?" Your hormones, lady? Lischak, Friedman, and Glynis all watch Luke expectantly. He finally says, "I don't know." Lischak makes a sound of annoyance, and there's muttering from the peanut gallery. Grace says quietly, but probably just loud enough for Luke to hear: "The smarter they are, the harder they fall." Friedman says, "Dude. Chemistry for the lobotomized." Lischak whacks her stick in front of Friedman and points to him. He gives the right answer, which ends in "Steam rises." Which sets Lischak off, of course -- she starts marching around the room, chanting, "It's rising! It's, it's, it's rising!" Grace watches indifferently. I would think she'd have something pretty snide to say. Actually, she seems somewhere between "listless" and "catatonic." Bummed about Luke? I think so. Well, in addition to the usual panoply of grievances.
Lischak carries on in the background while Joan reminds Adam, "You know how I signed up to volunteer to watch those kids?" Adam: "Unchallenged." Joan: "Exactly. Totally unchallenged." Grace, to no one in particular, muses, "How will understanding boiling points improve our lives?" Joan apologizes, but says she has to work Thursday night. Grace: "Will it help us boil things faster?" Adam says he bought the tickets because Joan wanted to go. She knows and she appreciates it, but she can't get out of it. Grace: "Will it make us appreciate the virtues of boiled food?" Adam looks hurt (I need a macro for that), shrugs, and says unconvincingly, "It's fine. I'll find someone else." Joan: "I'm so sorry..." (Need a macro for that sentence, too.) Grace: "Or is it just a useless academic exercise in the pursuit of a useless high school degree?" "Degree"? Doesn't she mean "diploma"? Joan squeezes her face up; she's had enough: "Grace! Shut up already, okay?" Lischak whacks her pointer down in front of Joan and asks her to explain what happens to a water molecule after it turns into steam: "First, you have to ri-i-i-i-i-se." Joan gets up. Lischak: "Now, erupt with illuminating data!" Joan makes a little explosive gesture with her hands. Grace smirks to herself.
On the way out, Friedman is goading Luke, of course: "Luke Girardi, choking in chem class? It was like seeing Einstein forget the speed of light." Luke: "Friedman..." Glynis starts babbling and apologizing, saying it was her fault for distracting him by coughing. Oh, God. She's going to make some geek a nice Stepford wife someday. Luke dismisses this, but she keeps going on and on frantically about how she's responsible. Do I need a "Shut it, Glynis" macro, too? She babbles like a madwoman until Luke explodes, "Glynis! You didn't distract me! I didn't hear your stupid cough! So just leave me alone, all right?" Friedman: "Dude." Glynis doesn't quite burst into tears, but she bolts. Grace, Adam, and Joan are behind them, and Grace comments, "Stepping on the bunny, Girardi..." Luke takes off. Friedman: "Dude!" Grace: "Shut up, Friedman." Shout-out? Maybe. I always say, "Shut it." If anyone ever says that, it's definitely a shout-out. Friedman takes off after Luke. You know, as if he might actually be concerned about him. Huh. Hate it when Friedman acts like a human being. Grace asks Joan what's up with Luke. Joan: "I don't know. I think all that brainpower is finally blowing a fuse." Suddenly Helen comes barrelling past in a crazy hurry, and Joan says hi to her. Helen: "Can't talk, honey! Late! Bye!" Grace smiles and says, "Maybe the maternal unit teaching has its advantages." They proceed toward their lockers and run into Iris. Adam says hi to her; she replies (in a tone that I think is supposed to sound more playful than petulant, but fails), "What do you want?" Joan mutters, "What do you think?" Iris says hi to Joan. Joan says hi and adds, "This is Grace. Grace has been his best friend since preschool." She asks Grace breezily, "You've probably seen him in his tighty-whiteys, haven't you?" Grace, surprisingly, goes along with this: "Mm-hmm." Hey, no fair. And what about the Iron Maiden boxers? Iris turns her attention back to Adam: "Walk me to history. À la Splendor in the Grass." Uh, first of all -- back off, Boopsie. Second: If that's her model for romance...she needs help. She takes him by the arm and off they go, up the stairs. Grace: "What is up with Rove and Cousin It?" Joan stares after them, annoyed: "You don't like her?" Grace: "Look, there's a few of us. We talk to one another. I don't want to have to talk to anyone else." Hee! A woman after my own heart. Joan: "What am I supposed to do?" Grace: "Kill it, Girardi!" She hustles off. Joan just stands there, arms crossed, with a very unattractive expression on her face.
Toni and Will are at the crack house, which is just as disgusting as you'd imagine: graffiti, rotting food, garbage, et cetera. Toni holds up a plate and asks Will what he thinks it was. Will: "Avocado?" Toni: "So, we're making guacamole, we're cooking up some rock..." ["Sounds like Valentine's Day at my house. (I'm here all week, folks.)" -- Sars] Will says he never gets invited to those parties. Toni asks casually if he and Roebuck are going to be okay. Will says it's a time of transition. Toni reminds him that Roy's on his side. Will knows. Toni adds, "We all are." Then she asks, "You didn't take any time off, did you?" Will says he went to a spa. Yeah, where you got into a brawl. Very restorative. Toni knows that was just for a weekend, and points out that guys get two weeks off just for pulling their weapons: "And after what you went through..." Will wheels around, suddenly angry: "You think I'm a uniform? Is that what you think?" Toni's too surprised to say anything. Will realizes he's being too harsh and tells her, "Just leave it." He starts pawing through some shelves when suddenly there's a small crashing noise behind them. He whirls around, weapon drawn. Toni says, "Hold your fire, Will." He's not firing, but he's practically frozen in place. Toni: "Will? Will, put your weapon down!" Will just keeps staring ahead, and finally lowers his arm. We see the cause of a the noise: a little girl, maybe about three or four. Toni goes over to her while Will pants, realizing he's closer to the edge than he thought.
During the commercial, Frink, who's really vague on TV scheduling (he can be, because I can't), casually wonders aloud, "So when does the season wrap up?" He's taken aback by my abrupt "Too soon! Don't talk about it!" There are only seven more episodes. Joan and Adam don't have to be engaged by May or anything, but Iris had better be gone soon.
Will and Toni are in Roy's office. I guess she busted him to their boss. Will, naturally, is refusing to accept help or see a shrink because of this. Roy: "You've had a lot dumped on you lately, Will: you've been taken hostage, your kid's accident..." Will: "No, don't go there. Don't bring my family into this." Roy says it all contributes to how he acts on the job: "I can't have you jeopardizing people's lives because of issues you're not dealing with." Will turns to Toni: "Jump in any time, partner." She agrees with Roy. Will: "Nice. Let's all pile on Girardi." Toni says he pulled his weapon on a four-year-old holding a doll. Well, to be fair -- he was in a crack house in a rough neighbourhood, and he heard a loud noise. Shouldn't he have reacted with something more than mild curiosity? I think the greater problem is that it took him so long, after seeing it was just a little girl, to pull himself together. Will says he's apologized to the girl's family, and it was a natural reaction to a loud noise. Roy insists they're trying to help him: "Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome..." Will interrupts: "I've been a cop for twenty-eight years! I never used my gun unless it was called for, never hurt anybody unless it was called for! I would never have hurt that little girl!" Roy says he can't take the risk, and orders Will into counselling. Will: "I gave you this job, if I remember." Roy: "And I'm doing it." Will: "I'm not gonna have my record screwed up because you want to brand me some mental case!" Toni says that's not what they're saying. Will puts his gun and badge on Roy's desk and says, "You can suspend me with pay pending an investigation. That way, at least I can keep a shred of dignity!" He storms out. Toni and Roy kinda shrug at each other.
Iris catches up with Joan in the hallway at school, telling her that Adam invited her to the White Stripes concert tomorrow. The only reason you can't hear my teeth grinding is that I've convinced myself that Iris is just a plot device and will not amount to a hill of beans in the long run. Joan: "Really? Great." Iris: "Yeah, I just want to make sure it's cool with you if we go." Joan shrugs, feigning indifference: "Yeah. Why would I care?" Iris: "I sort of sense this weird 'item' vibe between you two." Then back off, girlie. Sorry. Long run. Long run. Thinking about the long run. Joan's all, no, we're just friends. Iris: "Cool." Joan, attempting to be casual: "Totally. So do you, like, like him, or..." Iris: "Enough to go see some band I'm not into." Joan: "Wow. Well, have fun at the concert with Adam. I have to go...study for stuff." Joan walks off as Iris makes an attempt at a sympathetic expression.
Helen's in the kitchen rambling to Luke, who's packing his knapsack, about the lesson plans for her class. She's considering having them copy a Uccello to learn about perspective, but is also thinking of having them just take their paints and throw them at canvases, like Pollock. Luke: "You mean like kindergarten." Kevin wheels in and says he might be home late and not to worry about him. Helen tells him he looks nice, adding, "Doesn't he look nice, Luke?" Luke: "Am I really required to participate in this discussion?" Kevin snipes, "I think the whole dating ritual is beyond him. There's not enough science behind it." He claps Luke on the arm. Luke: "Actually there's a lot of science behind it. And most of it, no, all of it, I mean, beyond your grasp, of course." Helen asks mildly, "Luke, was that necessary?" Isn't it great when parents are this oblivious? Luke: "Sorry if I offended Mr. Hefner." Hee. Kevin claps him on the arm again, offering to help him if he ever wants any practical advice. Luke interrupts, saying he doesn't need Kevin's advice: "I have an extremely satisfying relationship with someone, both intellectually as well as physically..." Helen: "What?" Kevin: "Is this with somebody you don't have to inflate?" Luke walks out, saying, "Forget it." Helen's still asking, "Who are you physically involved with and how physical?" He calls back that he's late for getting to Friedman's to study. Kevin looks at his mother's concerned face and smirks, "Mom, chill. It's Luke."
Joan comes down the kitchen stairs as Kevin leaves. Helen demands of Joan, "Does Luke have a girlfriend?" Joan: "Yeah, Glynis. Everyone's hooked up except for me!" Helen: "Are they...have they..." Joan: "Ecch! Where's deaf and invisible when you need it? I'm not talking, Mom...about anything...okay?" Helen agrees. She's sitting at the table; Joan's standing at the counter, jabbing chopsticks into a container of Chinese food but not eating. She says, "It's just that...I like Adam." Helen: "I know, honey..." Joan: "Mom, please. I know you think I'm dating him but I'm not. I mean, we kissed once, and please, never repeat that to me or anyone else, because I'm already grossed out I told you." What? Dude, she was there. Okay, I suppose she didn't see it. Joan continues, "But it was just a kiss, you know...just a...one-time kiss." Helen says okay. Joan: "That doesn't mean we're dating, does it?" Helen opens her mouth to reply, "Well..." Joan interjects: "Right, I know, of course not. It's just that I think Adam kind of thought it did, and he was kind of, you know, about it, and -- and I -- I -- I was sort of, you know...too! And now he likes someone else! This Iris." She laughs a mirthless, dismissive laugh. Helen looks concerned. "And I don't know what he sees in her. I mean, she's all...you know. I want him to be happy; I'm not one of those people who gets all perky when someone else is miserable -- or maybe I am, but -- I do think Adam should be happy. Just not before I'm happy. I mean, he can be happy with someone else after I'm happy with someone else. Does that make me a total maggot?" Helen can't even get one word out before Joan rambles on, "Whatever. The real question is: should I try to get him back? I mean, what if he falls in love with her and then I realize that I really do like him and it's too late? But if I break them up and get him back and then realize that I really don't want to be with him, then he's gonna hate me again! Which I could not stand, because I really like him." She sounds almost teary and she sighs heavily. "There's just no good answer here." Helen finally gets to speak: "Honey, you are dealing with a lot of emotions..." Joan: "Mom, I can't have this conversation now, okay?" She goes back up the stairs. Helen's probably thinking she should have stopped at one. Great work by Amber Tamblyn here.
Kevin and Rebecca have come back to her apartment building. She's carrying a foil swan with the leftovers and complimenting Kevin on his parallel parking. She thanks him for dinner again. He tells her she's welcome again, and comments on the lameness of the conversation. I guess Bear didn't tell him what to do about that part. They come up to the elevator, only to find that there's an "Out of Order" sign on it. Rebecca's really dismayed: "Oh my God...I'm on the second floor." While she presses the button in frustration, Kevin glances at the wide staircase to their right. Rebecca makes sounds of annoyance: "I can't believe this." He catches her arm and says, "It's okay."
The shot is Kevin being helped up the stairs in a sort of wheelbarrow fashion: he's on his hands and Rebecca's carrying his legs. They collapse at the top of the stairs, out of breath. Kevin remarks, "You're in good shape." She replies, "You can't make fun of my Pilates classes anymore." Seriously. I just started taking them, and they'll kick your abs. Rebecca flings herself on top of Kevin and moves in for a kiss. Kevin turns his face away, to Rebecca's confusion. Then he flips the two of them over so that he's on top. Between this and the punching, he's not my favourite guy in the show, I have to say. Rebecca giggles a bit and they start making out.
Helen's in the kitchen alone, waiting. Will comes home and says hi. Helen: "It's so late. I was worried. I called your cell." Will says he's sorry: "I was walking. Lost track of time." She comes over and kisses him. Surprised, she asks, "Have you been smoking?" He admits to a couple of cigarettes and then adds, "I'm an adult, Helen. I can have a couple of cigarettes if I want." Helen can see he's not himself, and asks, "What is it, Will?" He pauses and then says, "I hate being a cop, that's what it is. I've wasted my whole damn life at a job where I'm despised and shot at, just so I can sit at the kitchen table with a pile of bills that we don't know how the hell we're going to pay." Helen replies calmly, "I don't know what happened today but you know that isn't true." Will: "So now you know how I feel? Now you know what's inside of me?" Helen: "Hey! I'm not the enemy here. But if you don't want to tell me what's going on..." Will tells her he surrendered his gun and badge today: "They wanted me to go into counselling for pulling my gun on some little kid and get labelled a nutjob." Helen: "What?" He says it was a reasonable reaction under the circumstances: "I wouldn't have fired! I didn't fire!" Helen: "Wait -- when did this happen? Why didn't you mention it?" Will: "A couple of days ago. Why should I have mentioned it?" He takes a swig of beer. Helen's pretty disturbed: "Because this is something you would tell me, and if you didn't --" Will: "What? You sound like them now. You think there's something wrong with me too, Helen?" She says he's not acting very reasonably right now: "And if -- if this is what they see at work..." Will snaps, "Why the hell did I even bother to come back here tonight? It's obviously too much to expect a little support from my wife!" Helen is really upset: "What a hateful thing to say." He gets up and bitches, "You've got your little art class now. Don't have time for a husband!" He grabs his coat as she says, "Hey, I don't know what you think my job as a wife is, but it's sure as hell not to agree with you just to make your life a little easier." Thank God. Because otherwise I'd have to pretend that I don't think Star Trek and its many generations are a colossal bore, and I'm just not that good an actor. Oops -- sorry. The fight. Helen: "Not if you have a problem we have to deal with." Will sneers, "My only problem now is you and this damn family that's suffocating me!" He storms out. Whoa. (Frink wants to second that "Whoa.") Helen's hurt and baffled.
Joan's at her locker when Adam spots her and does this oddly frisky little jog up to her and says, "Hey, Jane." When she sees him, she smiles (a cool, almost fake smile) and says, "Hey! How's it going?" I can't really hear if Adam says anything, but after a moment, Joan slams her locker and demands, "How could you ask Iris to the concert without even telling me?" Adam: "The only two people I know in this stupid school are you and Grace...you don't want to go with me --" Joan: "I can't go!" Adam: "And Grace has political issues with White Stripes. What, you want me to go alone?" Joan says she doesn't: "It's just...why don't you ask Friedman? Or Luke?" Friedman? Friedman? Face it, Joan. You must be in love with him, or you wouldn't see Friedman as preferable to Iris. Adam: "So you don't want me to go on a date, unless it's with you, but if I ask you out on a date -- a real date -- you wouldn't go." Yeah, I'd say you've pretty much got it. Joan claims, "That is absolutely untrue." Adam: "Which part?" Joan shrugs: "Of course I...want you to go on...dates...I mean, why wouldn't I?" Adam: "I don't know." Because you're her lobster? She'd better realize it soon, though. He starts walking away. Joan runs after him to say, "It's just this Iris...we don't know anything about her!" Adam says, "She lives alone with her mom, she's an amazing painter, and she likes these, uh, weird French movies that were made, like, fifty years ago." Oh, so what? La-di-freaking-da. Joan's with me: "Yeah, yeah, but she could be a total psycho. I mean, she wears mangled hangers as jewellery!" Adam is confused, as usual: "Why are you doing this? I like her, Jane...a lot." He walks away. Joan stands there, absorbing how badly she handled that.
At work, Rebecca comes up to Kevin's desk and plops some files on it, saying, "I need these by 3:00." Kevin, flirtatiously: "Yes, ma'am." She looks slightly embarrassed and says, "Kevin...come on...let's keep work, work." Well, now's a great time to start. How is this not a problem at their office? I don't think much gets past Andy the Pissy Queen, even if everyone else is oblivious. Kevin smiles: "Okay. Work is work." She thanks him and starts to walk away, then comes back with her hands clasped together kind of girlishly and says softly, "But last night was..." Kevin: "Awkward...weird, great...and, uh, no one sprained anything." Rebecca smiles and glances around. He adds, "And it was the first time I ever trusted anyone outside my family to see me without my chair." Rebecca smiles; she seems to understand how much that means. Kevin smiles back. Aw.
Art class. Helen approaches Adam and Iris, who are intimately huddled together over their paints, chatting. Time for some maternal meddling. Helen asks how it's going, and compliments Adam on his work. He says he just got started. To Iris, she says, "You like working in this medium." It almost seems to be a question, but not quite. Iris: "Yeah, a lot." Helen: "What...is that medium?" Iris: "Just, you know, mixed media." Helen: "Well, usually mixed media entails some kind of texture. You've got, um, what is it -- magazine photos?" Adam: "Chah, it's cool." Helen: "Yeah, I know, I'm just saying...there's usually texture." As far as I can tell -- it's not shown clearly -- Iris is gluing magazine photos onto a piece of wood. She says, "Um...the wood is textured..." Helen gently but carefully slides the knife in a little deeper: "And...that's the shade of green you're going to go with?" Adam's watching all this, wondering what's going on. Iris asks, "Is there a problem, Mrs. Girardi?" Helen realizes she needs to back off and says, "No, no. No. No problem. Just...carry on." Adam and Iris both seem slightly puzzled, though I suspect Iris has a better idea what that was all about. I guess that's understandable from a mom, but it's really unacceptable from a teacher and Helen's going to have to learn how to check the mom thing at door.
Joan's walking outside the school when she runs into some scruffy old guy walking about half a dozen large dogs, and gets tangled up in his leashes. You just know this is going to be an avatar. Dog Walker God is played by Amber Tamblyn's father, Russ Tamblyn. Perhaps I should call him "God the Father," but I think that'll be too confusing down the road. (Too bad I can't figure out a palindromic version of "Dog Walker God.") Note that he has a large button on his vest that reads "I Love Everybody." I have a postcard that's very similar to that, only mine says, "I Hate Everybody." Joan tries to untangle herself as she asks, "Do you mind? I'm late." Dog Walker God says, "Not much I can do. It's their nature, Joan." She seems unusually surprised and asks, "Why does Adam have to go to the concert with Iris?" Dog Walker God says Adam doesn't have to; he wants to. Joan: "Only because you made me cancel!" He replies, "I work in mysterious ways, Joan. It's, uh...it's my thing." Hee. Joan: "So, maybe you could do something mysterious from [sic] stopping her from going." Joan suggests a twisted ankle or appendicitis: "Or a big zit...on her lip, huh? Think of it as payback for all the work that I've done for you!" Yeah, God's hardly done anything for you. He asks, "Don't you think that there might be some things that are more important than this date?" Joan: "Like?" Dog Walker God: "Like I suggest that you keep working with those kids." Joan: "You suggest. You suggest. Like I'm not going to do what God suggests!" As he gets the dogs under control and starts walking away, Joan asks, "And why am I working with them?" He says, "Sorry -- they gotta go!" Joan shouts after him, "I hope they pee on you!"
The shot is Joan on her knees at the community centre, mopping up a huge pile of pee that some kid's just unleashed on the colourful floor. Heh. Instant karma's gonna get you. She asks the kid, "What happened?" The kid, who seems incredibly blasé about the situation, especially for his age, shrugs, "I had an emergency." Most kids I've seen wet themselves publicly are extremely upset. The rest of the kids are staring at Joan and the kid. She asks if he has any other clothes with him. He doesn't. She says it's okay. Then she remarks, "Wow, you are so small...and this is...so-o-o-o-o-o much." Joan tells him she was supposed to go to a White Stripes concert, but couldn't, because she had to be here. Pee Boy says, "You know, Iris doesn't talk so much." Joan: "Hey, news flash: I am not Iris." Another kid, over by the table, says, "You're mean." General murmurs of agreement from the peanut gallery. Joan says she's not mean. Another girl says she's bored. The boy who said Joan was mean says he's bored, too. Joan: "Why don't you guys throw blocks at each other, or write on the walls?" The little girl suggests making a piñata. The kids are all for that. Joan wants to know how they even know what a piñata is? Odd. It's not that arcane. The kids all talk at once, explaining to her what it is. She's got it, but says, "We're not making a piñata. You guys just want candy." The little girl snipes, "Iris always said no, too." Well, now Joan's interested.
Luke walks out of what I guess is the high school. Though it looks just like what I've been taking to be the community centre where Joan's doing her volunteer work. Are the kids somewhere in the school? Are the buildings right door to each other? Who knows? I'll just sit here like Adam and look confused. I need a toque. Anyway, Luke walks out and finds Kevin parked there, waiting. He doesn't seem too thrilled about it either, and asks what he's doing there. Kevin motions to him to get in: "Mom asked me to pick up Joan, 'cause she gets out late from her thing with the kids." You know, this is probably a stupid question, but I'm not clear on how Kevin gets himself in and out of this car. His wheelchair's not in the front seat. Perhaps someone could explain it on the forums. Luke says he's going to walk. Kevin: "Don't be a jerk. Get in." Luke reluctantly complies. He gets in the front seat and rolls up the window. He says nothing. Kevin leers at him: "So...you been, uh, 'studying' with your girlfriend?" Luke says he doesn't want to talk about it. Kevin: "Maybe if you learn how to shoot some hoops we can turn you into a real man and put a smile on her face." It's accompanied by the usual arm punch. Luke turns to him, angry: "God, why don't you just cut out the cocky athletic crap, Kevin? You're not that guy anymore and you never will be again." Whoa. Kevin looks momentarily hurt, then puzzled. Luke quickly adds, "I'm sorry. I'm...I'm sorry." Kevin: "What's your problem? The more things go my way, the more pissed off you get. What's that about?" Luke: "I said I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again." Kevin: "Yes, it will. What do you and your science friends call that -- the law of inertia? What is it? What's the problem, Luke?" He shoves Luke's shoulder. Luke explodes: "That! Right there! Do you have any idea how much I hated you for shoving me and hitting me and making fun of me all the time? And no one would say anything about it because you were the big star and I was just a geek! You know, after your accident, when I heard you'd never walk again, I was happy." Kevin's pretty stunned. So am I. Luke struggles not to cry. So do I. Joan suddenly gets into the back seat, happily oblivious: "Hey! Let's stop and get Slurpees." Kevin and Luke just sit in angry silence. Joan asks what's going on. Her brothers still don't speak. Joan: "Guys?" Luke's managed to harden his expression. Now Kevin's the one trying to hold back tears. Excellent work by Michael Welch. I was holding my breath from the moment he told Kevin to cut the crap and I didn't exhale until Joan got in the car.
Will's standing before his boss, saying, "You might not believe it...but I never would have pulled that trigger, Roy." Roy says they've been through this. Will: "I know. It's just important to me that you know that." Roy says it doesn't change anything. Will: "I'm not done yet. The other night...I said things to my wife...I was...it wasn't me. And I think maybe...I think you made the right call. I think I'd like to...talk to someone about what's been going on." Roy nods. Will leaves quietly.
Joan's hanging up a colourful piñata, praising the kids for the job they'd done. It's...definitely a thing, made out of stuff. It kind of looks like they've covered a cardboard box with lots of paper and decorations, rather than making a form out of papier-mâché. The kids are impatient, but finally she's ready for them and tells them to get in line: "So you can all smash your artwork." Heh. She tells Pee Boy, whose name is George, to go first. He starts whacking at it with a stick. He takes several whacks. Frink and I are puzzled: we thought the point of the game was that everyone got just one whack, and you had to keep taking turns, and you whack as hard as possible in order to get to the goodies sooner. And the person who manages to finally spill its guts has first pick of what's inside, or something like that. Isn't that the deal? Whatever. She tells the kid it's his turn. He's whacking the piñata while everyone cheers him on. They're all having a great time. Iris arrives, and after staring for a moment, she screeches, "Stop! Stop it!" Joan looks at her and says, "Don't be such a drag! We're just having a little fun." Iris, face contorted, reacts as if Joan had said they're just having a little disembowelling. "Fun? Swinging around a stick and beating things? My father thought it was fun, too. Just a little fun. Beating us with a stick, just like this. First my mother, and then..." She trails off, unable to continue. Joan's stunned. The kids look confused and sad and guilty. Iris cries, "Why would you do this?" She walks out, dropping the stick. Joan looks around at the kids, tears in her eyes. She catches sight of Little Girl God and says, "You're in charge until I get back!" Hee. Little Girl God spreads her hands in a brief yet beatific gesture of agreement, and nods. Little Girl God, by the way, is wearing a pink, orange, and red striped outfit. I guess when you're God you don't have to be afraid of the What Not To Wear-type people.
Joan finds Iris crying in the hallway (which has lockers, so I guess this is in the school somewhere after all) and says, "I didn't know! I never would have let them do that if I'd known!" Iris says, "You knew why they were all here...what kinds of lives they've had." Joan: "Yeah, but they wanted to do it!" Iris: "But I told them no. They didn't tell you that?" Joan says she didn't realize, and puts her hands to her forehead, saying, mostly to herself, "I'm such an idiot." To Iris, she says, "I thought it would be fun. We were having fun." Iris sniffles and says, "It's okay. What I did in there, it was worse." Yeah, I think I would have to agree with that. Joan says no, and sighs, "I should have asked you first." Iris sobs, "I just get scared when I see..." She sniffles some more, and says, "I'm sorry. It's not your fault." Joan walks a little closer to her and says, "How was the concert?" It's over by 9:30? Joan's shift is supposed to be 6:30 to 9:30 on Thursday evening. Iris says it was really good. Joan pauses and says, "They aren't brother and sister, you know." Iris gives Joan a puzzled, irritated look. Joan emits a mild snort, and Iris laughs a little bit. They just look at each other with tears in their eyes.
I don't know. Are we supposed to like Iris better because she's a survivor of domestic abuse? Or feel sorry for her? Is her vulnerability supposed to make her a good/better partner for Adam? I just don't think this aspect of the storyline really worked; I don't think the issue was introduced very convincingly; I feel kind of manipulated. I would have been much happier with a character who -- in a different way from Joan -- was a compelling girlfriend for Adam (and yes, I can countenance this). That would have really torn me. Now I'm just sitting here marking off time until the bloom is off this romance and Iris wilts. (Sorry.) Maybe that's what they were going for, but it didn't work. I suppose Adam and Iris are going to bond over their damaged families and parental losses, but they both seem to need more caretaking than either one can provide for the other. I'm actually a little concerned that she might become obsessed with Adam. (Save your pot and kettle remarks.) I think we're supposed to get a slightly unbalanced vibe from her, between this and the Splendor in the Grass comment. Another thing: Why is someone who clearly doesn't have the maturity or distance from her own problems not to flip out like that running this program more or less solo? I don't actually expect a sixteen-year-old to act any better, necessarily, but I also wouldn't give her this responsibility. Almost every detail of this children's program thing is just not plausible. Nor do I think Misti Traya is a strong enough actor to hold her own with this bunch -- the seven primary characters are all really good, and you've got to bring it if you expect to keep your head above water. Otherwise...it's like wearing Payless shoes with a couture outfit. It just doesn't fly -- I don't care what Star Jones says. ["Oh, now you tell me." -- Sars]
Luke's doing homework at the kitchen table when Kevin wheels in and turns around to face him. Luke doesn't react or look up. Kevin leans on the table and says, "I've been thinking, uh, about what you said." He kind of taps Luke's hand as he does it. Man, that's annoying. It's hard to believe Luke hasn't blown before this. Luke says he has to study. Kevin makes a "Well, I want to talk" kind of face and closes Luke's book and moves it aside. Dude, stop it. No wonder Luke's pissed off. Kevin must have been ten times more aggravating before his accident. Luke just keeps staring straight ahead at the table. Kevin says, "It's not your fault. I was an ass..." Luke glances at Kevin. Kevin continues, "And not having legs doesn't make me any less of one now." Luke: "That doesn't excuse me from thinking what I did." Kevin: "Yeah, it does." Luke seems unsure. Kevin thinks: "Doesn't it?" Luke just stares at him. Kevin gently puts Luke's book back in front of him and wheels out.
It's later the same night as Iris's blow-up; the group session is ending and kids are being picked up by their mothers. Joan is on her way into the hall when she sees Adam ambling toward her. They're both surprised to see each other. They stand on opposite sides of the doorway as people continue leaving. She asks, "What are you doing here?" He says, "Uh...meeting Iris." Joan seems vaguely disappointed, and says Iris is still inside. Adam says, "If I'da known you woulda been out here, I wouldn't have..." Joan, wake up -- look how cute and sweet he is. He starts to go into the classroom (which from the sign on the wall I can see is the Multi-Purpose Room), and Joan says, "Adam...I was a real jerk to you." Adam looks uncomfortable and says, "Uh, no, you don't have to..." Joan barely shakes her head as if his objections are pointless. He admits, "And I kinda rubbed this whole thing with Iris in your face." Joan smiles and looks away and says, "Yeah, a little." She tries to look away as Adam asks, "Jane...how's this gonna work?" She replies, "I guess we'll have to see." Adam: "So, you're -- you're okay with me and Iris?" Joan attempts a smile and says, "I have to be." Adam can tell she's not. But what good does that do him? Why are girls so confusing? I don't know, Adam. I've been one for almost thirty-nine years now and there are days when I just haven't got anything useful for you. Iris comes out and says, "Hey," to Adam, slipping her hand into his. Ouch. That hurts. Joan gets a good look at their clasped hands, too. Little Girl God appears behind Iris, who asks, "Hey...who are you?" Little Girl God looks at Joan for an explanation. Man, if you'd think anyone would have a good cover story ready, it would be God. Joan hesitates and says, "She's new. I know her mother and...it's okay, you guys can go." Iris says good night and off she goes with Adam, hand in hand.
The camera pulls back from Joan and Little Girl God as Joan watches them leave with tears in her eyes. Finally Joan says, "The way I felt about Iris...it was so ugly. Why would you put those feelings in me?" Little Girl God replies, "Everyone has a part of themselves they don't like, Joan. You carry it around like a weight. The lucky ones realize that, when it becomes too heavy, you can choose to set it down. That's when you can see things the way they really are." Joan considers this. Little Girl God says, "Come on. I'll walk you home." She extends her hand to Joan. Joan smiles slightly and takes it. As they walk down the hall, Joan comments, "Great. I'm being escorted home by a six-year-old."
A song called "Older Chests" by Damien Rice is on the soundtrack. Helen's on the sofa reading an art book when she hears Will come in behind her. She doesn't turn around, but lifts her head, alert to the possibility of another blow-up -- or who knows what? Will hangs back in the front hallway, unsure how to approach her or atone for his actions. Helen stays put, holding her breath a little, sad. As Will approaches the room slowly, she turns to look at him. His expression is one of remorse. She turns her head back again slowly, considering how to let go of the weight of anger and pain she's carrying now. Helen digs down inside herself for the profound forgiveness and maturity every successful long-term relationship demands. She puts her book aside as Will appears beside the sofa, apologizing without words, asking forgiveness with his outstretched hand. Helen takes his hand and lets him help her up. They look at each other, exchanging no words, only the kinds of complicated expressions that build up between two people over time. Will's face crumples slightly as he embraces her, and cries into her shoulder, holding her tightly to express his sorrow for how he treated her, and all they've been through. The camera changes angles and withdraws through a nearby room as they hold and comfort each other. Wonderful work by both actors. "Some things in life may change / And some things / They stay the same / Like time, there's always time / On my mind / So pass me by, I'll be fine / Just give me time..."