Props to Strega and Gwen for their assistance.
Joan, Grace, Adam, and Iris are wandering through a convenience store. It'd be more convenient to refer to them as the Fab Four or something, but then Iris would have to be replaced by someone who was, in fact, fabulous. Moving right along, Joan's perusing some magazine called Style and wondering, "Now, who decided I need to care about Paris Hilton?" No one whose opinion matters, that's who. Grace, toting a shopping basket on her arm, says, "Could we focus on the matter at hand? Mini pizzas or mini burritos?" Adam: "A burrito's always mini, 'cause burrito means 'little donkey.'" Iris: "That's so cool [that] you know the Español." Oy. Cállate la pinche boca, Iris. Grace pretends she didn't hear that comment and says, "Okay, both." Joan asks for some high-powered energy drinks: "I'm going to be up all night." Adam: "Wait, the chem exam's tomorrow?" Joan says it's not, it's Wednesday: "But not only do I have to master thermodynamics, I also have to finish some book about a guy who turns into a bug for World Lit." Grace, pawing through boxes of convenience food, tells Joan not to sweat the exam; she's got Luke's lab notebook. Joan's pretty surprised to hear that Luke lent it to her. Grace: "I still have pull." Heh. What I want to know is: what is Grace doing patronizing one of these overpriced convenience stores, buying processed food (manufactured by multideath corporations) from underpaid workers? It just seems like the sort of thing she'd eschew. And not quietly, either. At the very least she'd only be going along with this shopping expedition gripingly.
Grace's phone rings and she answers it: "What?" She tells her caller she didn't forget as she wanders to another aisle for more privacy. Iris has a brainstorm, or whatever sort of weather event a barnacle of very little brain generates: "I know what we need: soy jerky." No, nobody needs that. Absolutely nobody. Starving urchins wouldn't eat that. Non-meat foods pretending be meat foods is just silly. "Golden Poultryless Nuggets." "Glistening Shrimpless Cocktail." "Crispy Meatless Patties." Whatever. You know -- eat tofu, but why pretend it's chicken? Iris goes off for soy jerky as Joan asks, "Is she going to be, like, the Yoko Ono of our study group?" Ha! At least Yoko Ono made some interesting art. And if Iris is Yoko, then Adam is John, and Joan must be Paul, and I can't tell if Grace is George or Ringo. George, I guess. Adam sighs and tells her not to worry about it. Joan and Adam approach the cashier, and Adam asks if he can put up a flyer. The cashier, your basic slacker type, says he can. Joan asks to see one, and it turns out to be a flyer for an art show/poetry reading at Café Ennui. Joan thinks that's cool. Adam kind of downplays it, but Joan says, "Adam, this is your first art show out in the world." He insists it's not a big deal. Jerky Girl, who has returned, says, "Isn't it cool? Your mom started, like, a whole movement." Joan smiles a fake smile at Iris, who takes off again. Joan shudders as soon as she's gone. The cashier tells her she forgot the milk. Joan says she doesn't need any. He persists: "You're almost out at home." Joan: "Okay…either that's you, or you're a really pushy cashier." Hey, he could be both. He tells her it's up to her. Joan: "Yeah, it's definitely you. Okay, ring up a half gallon." He gives her a "come on" look. Yeah, I'll bet Kevin drinks a half gallon just for breakfast. Joan relents and asks for a gallon. Frink thinks the cashier is the equivalent of those internet fridges that tell you what you're out of.
Grace starts shouting at her caller from the back of the store: "We already went over this! I'm not going to pretend to care about something that I don't! That's called hypocrisy!" She turns the phone off in frustration and makes threatening, quasi-martial arts gestures at it. Iris asks, "Who is she yelling at?" Grace opens a refrigerator door, grabs a can of pop, and then throws her phone into the fridge as it starts ringing again. She slams the door and leans against it, looking exceedingly pissed. Joan asks her to grab a gallon of 2% while she's in there. Grace complies. Her phone's still ringing, and she slams the door shut. Turning to Joan, she demands, "Anything else?" Joan says that's it. She turns to Convenience Store God for confirmation: "Right?" He just shrugs. Grace comes up to the counter and puts the milk there, with a very weak, polite smile. Credits.
Helen's having a bit of a morning, rushing around dealing with breakfast and lunch and a table full of…I'm not sure what. Tchotchkes, gewgaws, objets d'art, bibelots, et cetera. Will comes in, and she apologizes, saying she'll have coffee ready in a minute. He says he's got an early meeting, so he'll just get some on the way. Helen: "Again?" Will: "Roebuck likes to give out morning assignments. It's very Hill Street Blues." Kevin wheels in and asks about the stuff on the table: "What's this for? Show and tell?" Helen explains that it's for a class project: "Anything you want to keep, grab it now. Otherwise it's getting smashed." Kevin: "Cool. Is this like a new teacher intimidation thing?" Helen says it's art. Man, anytime you can't come up with a clear, succinct explanation for something, you can just call it art and get it past most people. "What's all this shit in the hallway?" "Art." "Why's the shovel wedged behind the toilet?" "Art." "How'd the ferret get run over?" "Art." She's still rushing around trying to make coffee as Will offers to help with something, even though he's already got his coat on. Helen refuses his help as she hurriedly opens a bag of coffee beans, and they spill all over the place. She just kind of freezes in exasperation, and Will says he's got it. She tells him he has to go -- even though she's just mentioned she to get to school early herself. Kevin takes off, saying he has to go in early, because he has "…a thing."
Joan arrives to ask her mother the location of the shirt she (Joan) was wearing yesterday. Before Helen can answer, Joan notices the stuff on the table and says, "Hey! My turtle ashtray." Helen wants to know if it's okay to use some of this stuff for a class project. Joan: "What do you mean, 'use'?" Will's on the phone telling someone he's got a "family situation." Helen explains that she needs stuff she can break up and use. Joan's all trembly: "You want to smash my turtle ashtray?" Geez. This from the person who wrecked Adam's best piece. Helen says Joan made a lot of ashtrays: "And this one has a broken head." I'd think Joan would be young enough that teachers weren't generally promoting the making of ashtrays so much anymore. Joan: "You can't smash Archie." Will announces he's making breakfast: "Who's up for French toast?" Helen says they don't have any milk. Joan says she got some last night. Both parents stare at her. Joan: "What?" Will thinks it's a little surprising: "You, getting milk." Joan: "It's not like it's a miracle." Well…there was divine intervention. Helen says, "Kind of." Boy, this family really needs to start expecting more from the kids. Helen needs to learn to let go and delegate. Will tells his wife to go set up her class: "I've got this. Where's Luke? Joan, go check on your brother." Joan: "Ew. What if he's, like, sweaty or naked or something?" Both parents, in exasperated unison: "Joan."
We see Luke, asleep in bed, snoring lightly. His face looks like it's been covered in a thin layer of drool. Joan comes up the stairs asking, "Luke, are you alive?" As she reaches the door, she says quietly, "You didn't turn into a…bug or anything, did you?" Luke mumbles, half-asleep: "Can't move…head's too big...full of air…possibly fluid." Oh, God. I know that feeling. Poor Luke.
Joan goes back downstairs and announces to her father, "Something's wrong with Luke. He's all shivery and gross." Will: "Oh, boy. Does he have a fever?" Joan: "I don't know. I'm not touching him. I have to go." Will: "But I'm making French toast." Joan: "Sorry!" She grabs her stuff and vamooses.
Adam, Joan, and Grace are walking down the stairs to their lockers. Joan's talking through a mouthful of food, saying, "Someone has got to explain this bug book to me. I mean, are we really supposed to believe that somebody would just…turn into a roach? Reality check!" Grace snarls: "It's called 'literary symbolism,' and didn't anyone ever tell you not to talk with your mouth full?" She walks off, disgusted. Adam, who's putting up posters for his Café Ennui thing, watches her and tells Joan: "Something's going on at home. I didn't ask." Joan doesn't say much because she's sort of busy picking her teeth. Adam says, "So, uh, this art show thing, I was wondering maybe if you could help me load in my stuff tonight." Joan: "At your opening? Definitely." She seems excited to be asked. Adam keeps walking and postering as Joan says, "So, um…Baby Voice is not available?" Adam says he told her not to come: "I said I'd be too nervous." Huh. That should wash really well when she finds out Joan was there. That would bother me if I cared. Joan says she's happy to be a roadie, and Adam tells her to be there at 7:00. Aren't art shows usually set up a little more than, say, an hour in advance of their opening? The bell rings, and he takes off.
Joan walks along, reading the poster. She walks right past Goth God -- who's wearing a kilt, by the way. I'm not all hot for Goth God like lots of you, but I like a man -- or deity --who can wear a skirt. He comments that she's not in much of a hurry. Joan points out that he knows she has study hall. He knows that's followed by lunch. Joan: "Is there something I can help you with? I got the milk." Goth God: "And you think that's enough?" Joan: "Some clarity would help here." He wonders who's taking care of Luke today. Joan: "I don't know…his parents?" Goth God: "Right. You ever thought about maybe sharing some of their burden?" Joan: "Let's not forget that the last time you asked me to share the laundry burden and I ended up on crutches." Hey, I don't think it's his fault you're too dopey to use the brains he gave you. The bell rings. Goth God: "Second bell. It's too late to go to study hall. Look at all this free time." Joan complains, "I have two exams coming up! Do you want me to flunk?" It seems to me that there's some implicit quid pro quo thing here: if God asks you to do something that means ignoring some other obligation or responsibility, God should see to it that, you know, that other obligation or responsibility should be taken care of, if you know what I mean. Otherwise, what…God's just here to throw a wrench into the works? Thanks, but I've got family, friends, neighbours, and the rest of humanity for that. I'm all set. He just gives her a sort of "it's up to you" look and walks away. Joan: "You know, for someone who's almighty, you're very passive-aggressive." Heh.
Shot of one of Arcadia's many tall office buildings. Will and Toni are arresting some office worker played by Todd Louiso, who was awesome in High Fidelity. I'm going to call him Dick here, too, in honour of that role. Will complains, "What is this, punishment for being tardy? I miss the morning meeting, so we gotta go arrest the naughty computer boy?" The perp corrects him: "That's Information Technology Specialist." Same difference, most likely. That's close enough to Frink's actual title that we both smirk. Of course, all his coworkers are staring. One passes by, and he says, "Hey, Beth." They start escorting him out in handcuffs as Toni says, "Mr. Smith, you're under arrest for embezzling half a million dollars. You want to start taking this seriously?" Will: "You won't be so cocky when they put you away for ten years." Smith: "That's assuming they can crack my encryption. And judging from you guys, they can't even hook up a TiVo." Will says to Toni, "I like driving fast and shooting guns."
Helen is explaining to her class a technique called pique assiette. She shows them an example in a shallow box. It looks a lot like something either Frank or Hildi would do on Trading Spaces. Hildi would glue it your wall, and Frank would decorate a vase or a coffee table or a lamp with it. And Hildi would have gotten her raw material by smashing up your grandmother's Limoges. Frink quotes one of Frank's deathless lines: "You see this? This is a broken shard." For some reason the redundancy just kills him. Okay, okay. Enough Trading Spaces nostalgia. I'm over it. Helen says she asked them all to bring in an old toy, and what she wants them to do is smash them up and set them in wet plaster. I hope she told them that's what they were going to have to do. I wouldn't be too happy about being forced to smash something I wasn't ready to part with. Though I am, in fact, smart enough to know that when an art teacher asks you to bring something in, it had better be something you're not too attached to, I'm not so sure about her students. Also, how many people this age have things from their childhood that lend themselves to smashing and mosaic-ing? Didn't china dolls and metal cars go out with poodle skirts and HUAC hearings? Fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds are going to have stuffed animals, rubber dolls and toys, and things made of plastic -- if any of it survived.
Anyway, one girl asks, "You want me to smash Naughty Nancy?" Helen: "Well, think of it as using your past to create something new." Spunky Booster thinks that's "cool." You know, I'm starting not to care if Adam ever gets with Joan as long as he dumps Iris. Go away, little girl. Helen tells them to put on their safety goggles and start smashing. Denise, the owner of Naughty Nancy, is being totally feeble about it, and holding the hammer all wrong, and Helen tells her to put some muscle into it. Frink: "Learn to use a hammer! God." Joan comes in and shouts over the hammering noise, "Hey! What's going on?" Helen says, "We're memorializing our childhood relics. What do you need?" Joan says she came by to see if Helen needs any help, what with Luke sick and all. Helen says she knows about Luke, because Will called, and he also told her Joan ran off and left him with everything this morning. Joan says she's here now. Helen explains she's already arranged to miss her fifth period class so she can check on Luke. Joan apathetically offers to do it. Helen seems surprised: "You'd do that?" Joan: "Yeah. What's the big deal? Drive home, give Luke a pizza pocket…" Helen: "No, he needs soup and flu medicine, lemon flavour, and check his temperature." Joan: "Fine, I'm all over it." Helen thinks of something else, but then decides it's too much, and says, "Forget it." Joan: "What?" Helen left some ground beef out to thaw so she could make meatloaf, but forgot she had a meeting tonight, so now it's going to spoil. But she does another guilt-tripping "forget it" well enough that Joan says in a weak, pouty way, "I can make the meatloaf." Helen: "Your father would be so thrilled." Joan barks, "But I have to be done by seven!" Helen says she can leave as soon as her father gets home. Joan shlumps off as Helen chirps, "Thank you!"
Kevin's sitting on the end of an examining table in a room by himself. He watches a guy struggle past the door on a walker. I hope that wasn't an anvil. Frink thinks the actor with the walker totally looks like a crew guy who was grabbed on the spur of the moment. Kevin's doctor comes in and expresses his hope that Kevin doesn't have another basketball injury. Kevin explains that this morning he had a new feeling in his gut, a feeling that he hadn't had since before the accident. Okay, wait a second -- he had this feeling this morning and got an appointment, with a doctor -- who's probably a specialist -- today? Wow. I called my doctor two weeks ago to schedule my annual physical, and I have to wait two and a half months for my appointment. Dr. Hughes asks Kevin to lean back and pull up his shirt so he can examine his abdomen. As he gently prods and pokes, he asks Kevin if it was painful. Kevin says it was more like a fluttering: "Like I had feeling there again. Is that weird?" Dr. Hughes: "A lot of factors can cause reactions. Even a mild skin irritation." Kevin: "Yeah, but…this felt more like…something waking up." Dr. Hughes puts his stethoscope around his neck and says in a matter-of-fact tone, "With an injury like yours, neural regeneration is extremely unlikely." Kevin: "But…not impossible?" Hughes says he'd want an EMG before he'd be comfortable even entertaining the possibility. Kevin: "Okay. So…when can we do that?" Dr. Hughes says he'll see what's available. Kevin asks him not to say anything to his parents about this. Hughes says it can be confidential. Kevin assures him he can do the test today if there's anything available. Hughes is careful to keep his face on the slightly grim side of neutral.
Luke's in his jammies on the sofa, watching TV. Joan brings a tray of stuff to him, but is distracted by his choice of programming: "What are you watching?" Luke mumbles, "It's about the Mars Rover." Joan insists that he watch Dr. Phil, and changes the channel. Yeah, watching Dr. Phil deliver his standard lecture to yet another bunch of unbelievably dysfunctional boobs should really help. ["Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, lady." -- Sars] , Joan wants to know what class work she needs to pick up for him. Luke is baffled to hear that Joan is going to do this for him. Joan: "Luke, I do come with a brain." Luke fishes out his PDA and starts babbling: "Monday…American History…get the notes from Thomas Jefferson…wait, Thomas Jefferson isn't a student. Okay, okay, Phys Ed…" Joan: "PE? Luke, all you do is run around and come in last. Get real." Luke starts muttering "no, no, no" over and over and shaking his head. Joan: "What?" Luke's head falls back on the pillow as he explains, "The scholarship deadline for space camp is today!" Joan: "Space camp?" Luke: "I haven't even typed my essay!" Kind of hard to believe he'd leave something like that until the last minute. He asks, "Where's my chemistry notebook?" Joan reminds him he lent it to Grace. Luke: "I lent it to…Grace?" Joan tells him to take it easy; she's seeing Grace this afternoon and will get it back for him by 5:00. Luke complains that she doesn't understand: his essay's in that notebook, and if he doesn't get it back by tonight, "No space camp, no scholarship, no summer with Glynis at Stanford!" Summer with Glynis? Yeesh. I don't know how he stands her for five minutes, frankly. Joan reassures him, as she writes a note on her hand: "Look, I'm writing it on my PalmPilot: 'Get lab notebook.' Okay? Watch Dr. Phil." She takes off as Luke regards the husky huckster of diets and direction: "He looks nice."
Will and Toni herd the cocky embezzler into an elevator already occupied by an extremely pregnant cleaning woman who appears to be Hispanic. We'll just call her Maria. Aren't all Hispanic cleaning women on TV named Maria? Dick claims, "You know, this company spends a half million just getting clients drunk at lunch." He greets Maria: "Hola." Pause. "Huge-o, huh?" What an asshat. Frink: "Hit him." She doesn't dignify this with a reply as the doors close. Two seconds later, the elevator falters and stops. Asshat: "Not again." Will: "What do you mean, 'not again'?" Asshat says the elevator's stuck and it happened last week: "Took 'em forever to fix it." Naturally, at this moment, the woman emits an "ai-eeeeee!" as her water breaks. Apparently it's fairly uncommon for water to break before any contractions have started; it seems to happen only in about 15 percent of pregnancies. But then, what are the odds of a woman going into labour in a stalled elevator? You know, not on TV. We get a shot of amniotic fluid pouring onto the floor, and everyone steps back. Asshat makes unhelpful and obvious remarks as Will tries to call for help. Toni sort of supports Maria as Asshat advises, "I wouldn't wait around for them. Those guys take very long lunches." The woman continues uttering exclamations of pain and surprise as Will pushes buttons futilely.
Joan gets back to school and is accosted by Grace and Adam, who want to know where she's been, because they're supposed to be studying in five minutes. Joan: "What, you think this is news to me? I have to get my brother's assignments. He's got some kind of swine flu. Can't we just study tonight?" Grace: "No way! I have a…family thing." To Joan's puzzled look, Grace quickly says, "Leave it alone." Adam reminds her about his art show, too. Joan puts her hands to her head: "Oh, God, that's right!" Adam: "But if you're too busy…" Joan assures him that she will definitely be there: "And we are definitely studying for the exam. I just need, like, an hour to deal with everybody else's needs." Grace: "I'm familiar with the phenomenon." Joan starts to take off and then rushes back, saying she has to get Luke's notebook back. Grace says they haven't even looked at it yet. Joan asks her to make copies of the notes and she'll meet them in an hour. Couldn't they just rip out the essay he needs? Or copy that? As Joan hustles off, Grace calls out, "Don't flake out!" Joan yells back, "Got it!"
The pregnant woman is now sitting on the floor of the elevator, panting, as Toni pats her hand and tries to help her relax. Will's shouting on a cell phone, explaining their situation to someone. Dick comments, "Not one service provider can get you decent reception in an elevator. It's criminal." He should be starting with the "Can you hear me now?" jokes any minute. Will advises him, "You have the right to remain silent. Use it." He tells Toni he thinks the person he called might have heard something. Will asks Toni: "Is she close? Can you tell?" Toni: "I'm not the one with three kids." Will makes it clear he wasn't exactly actively involved in the delivery room: "I can't stand seeing my wife in pain." Yeah. There's a worthy excuse. And when you get kidney stones, I hope you'll understand when Helen makes the same excuse. The woman howls in pain, and Will says, "That seems wrong. Is that wrong?" Toni assures the woman that they're getting out of there. Dick says he thinks the kid's coming first, since her contractions are pretty close together. Everyone looks at him like, "How would you know, dumbass?"
Joan's working on making the meatloaf when Luke wanders into the kitchen. Joan pours some hot water into a cup and says, "Here's your disgusting lemon flu. Just don't drive or operate heavy machinery. Do you know where Mom put the breadcrumbs?" Luke: "Why am I here?" Joan snaps, "Luke! Focus! Breadcrumbs!" Luke: "Are you hot? Is it hot in here?" She tells him to go back to bed. Luke: "Can't. Too tired. There was something I was supposed to get from you." Joan: "I already got your medicine, and your stupid assignments -- which took forever, by the way. I had to skip my own study group to make this stupid meatloaf…" Luke: "Notebook! You get the notebook from Grace?" Joan makes an "oh, crap" face and turns to Luke: "Okay, um, remember the part where I said I had to skip my study group?" Luke fusses, "No, no, no, no, no, no! Notebook…only hope…space camp…" Joan asks him to stop talking in fragments: "I will get your notebook back. Just drink your flu stuff." She phones Grace's cell and leaves a message about Luke's notebook, and asks her to call right away. She pleads with Grace not to be mad at her. Joan hangs up and beams at Luke: "See? Nothing to worry about." We cut to Grace's phone, peeping away in the dairy case at the convenience store, where she left it.
Will's bitching at someone through the intercom: "I don't know if we're in the north or the west elevator! We're in the one that hasn't moved in two hours!" Okay, aren't most elevators required to have some kind of label or certificate noting their location? Wouldn't he, as a cop, have a pretty good idea about things like that? Wouldn't Dick, who's worked in this building long enough to have (allegedly) embezzled $500K, know the answer to that? So many questions. The woman howls again, and Dick remarks, "If she's breech or pre-eclampsia, we don't have the proper equipment." Thanks, Marcus Welby. Toni's had about enough: "What, so now Mr. IT is Mr. OB?" He says he's just been through it, since all three of his kids were home births: "We, you know, found it more holistic. Hospitals can be…" Will: "Yeah, we get it." Dick: "Ignore me if you want. That's fine. But if it were me, I'd be checking out those cleaning supplies for something sterile, laying down my coat…but that's just me…" The woman says she needs to get out of there.
Luke is sitting at the dining room table, weary with sickness, as Joan sets out plates and dishes. She wonders where their father is, since it's almost seven. Kevin wheels in and says, "Man! Smells good! Too bad I have to go…" Joan: "You're telling me this now?" Kevin: "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were going to do a whole Mom thing." Joan: "Well, neither did I." Luke whines, "I just want my lab notebook." Kevin: "Dude. Less pathetic." Joan says she'll get his notebook as soon as their father gets home. Kevin: "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. He called. He said he was…stuck in an elevator?" Joan's all "whuh?" but Kevin just leaves without further explanation, as Joan complains that she has to go and she can't just leave Luke there. She angrily spoons a wodge of mashed potatoes onto a plate and dumps it in front of Luke: "Eat!" She adds something about "an end to your misery," but I can't quite make out what she says. Her cell phone rings, and she answers it: "Now what?" She tells her caller she can barely hear him as Luke tugs feebly at her elbow, asking, "Is it Grace?" Joan: "Adam! I'm so sorry! I got held up!" She rushes into the kitchen, explaining about her father being delayed as Luke pleads, "Notebook?" She continues, "And my stupid brother is sick…" Luke: "Heard that." She's putting detergent in the dishwasher and promising that she'll be there as soon as she can: "Listen, I can explain, please don't hang up the --" I guess he did hang up. Joan closes her phone, looks up, and says quietly, "Are you there, God? It's me, Joan. And you suck!" Heh. I was wondering when they were going to bring the Judy Blume. She starts the dishwasher, and all the power goes out. Joan laughs mirthlessly and slaps her forehead.
Kevin's in an examining room, wearing a hospital gown and trying to maintain some degree of dignity. His thighs are being examined by someone -- the second bald medical professional of the day. Kevin says Dr. Hughes told him to thank this guy for squeezing him in so late. Baldy #2 (hey, give characters names, damn it, or I'm forced to resort to stuff like this) says, "Always happy to help out a fellow working man." Kevin asks if he's ever done this procedure on paralyzed people. Baldy #2: "A few million times." Kevin: "You, uh…ever see anybody get some of their feeling back?" Baldy #2: "You mean neural regeneration? Not much, no." Kevin: "But you've seen it?" Baldy #2 answers thoughtfully and carefully: "Mostly what I see is people sticking to their rehab, increasing strength and flexibility…" Kevin: "Yeah, yeah. I -- I know all that. But I read this thing where, if you get some sensation back, there's, like, a possibility, not a big one, but --" Baldy #2: "You know what? You should probably talk to Dr. Hughes. Your results will be in tomorrow." Kevin nods. Oy. I was really hoping they wouldn't go with the "Kevin miraculously regains his ability to walk" plot. It's just so unrealistic. I really hope that's not where this is going. Didn't Barbara Hall promise in an interview that that wasn't going to happen?
Joan's walking along a busy city street, muttering and kvetching to herself: "Share the burden, get milk, make dinner, be a grownup -- that's fine! Except that I don't vote yet! I barely drive. I can't even go in the senior lounge. I.e., I am not a grownup." She marches right past Adam, who's taking some of his artwork into the café she just passed. He calls to her, "Jane?" She stops and looks at him. He glances into the café to convey his confusion: "I didn't think you were gonna make it…" Joan's surprised to see him, and explains she has to go to the hardware store. Adam, understandably, seems hurt and disappointed. But he also seems pretty used to it, too. Joan notices this, of course, and says, "Wait a minute…you need help, right?" He says he does. Joan thinks aloud: "And that's why I'm here…to share the burden…because that's what I'm supposed to do." Adam: "Great." He asks her to grab a couple of small pieces, and then he goes inside. Joan picks up the sculptures and looks up at the sky, asking, "Right?" No answer. She nods to herself doubtfully: "Right." She takes them inside.
Joan watches Adam tighten something on one of his large pieces and says, "Looks good." Adam: "You think?" Joan asks him, "Uh, why do I feel like we're cheating on Iris?" Adam dismisses that: "That's crazy." He moves on: "So, um, what did you need from the hardware store?" Because he might have something similar you could pull right off one of his sculptures. Joan sighs, "Nothing. It can wait. I mean, this is more important." Some Café Ennui denizen of the half-slacker, half-hippie breed comes over and comments on Adam's work: "Kinda takes recycling to a whole new level. Cosmically responsible, dude." Adam thanks him and wanders off. The guy stands there to Joan, examining the piece, and Joan whispers, "'Cosmically responsible'?" He says, "Yeah." Joan: "Was that supposed to be subtle?" Cosmic Dude: "Uh, not really…" Joan: "Okay, I am taking responsibility for my personal life right now -- so deal with it." She leaves him there to wonder about the uptight chick. Yeah, it's been a while since she mistook the wrong person for God, hasn't it? I'm not keeping a score card or anything but it seems like a long time.
She walks over to the counter and asks for a hot tea. The woman at the counter -- a similar slacker/hippie hybrid -- replies, "Wow. 'Tea.' We've got, like, eighty varieties: herbal, green, black, English, Irish, chai…" Joan doesn't know and doesn't care to decide: "Just tea. Thanks." The barista gives her a big, knowing smile and says, "It's not up to me. You gotta make a choice." Joan panics and looks back toward Cosmic Dude, realizing he wasn't God after all. She winces, and then says, "I'm choosing to be here with my friend, okay? Luke is fine. He was alone all day. So just back down!" Barista gently offers a diagnosis: "I think you want the chamomile. It's very calming." Joan covers her mouth when she realizes she's 0 for 2 and apologizes. She tells her to forget it.
It's time for some poetry reading. Joan and Adam watch a guy with long grey dreads begin reciting his poem, called "Through the Third Eye." And it goes:
I close my eyes to this advertised reality
This Dow Jones international corporate double-tall latte
And I open my eye to what's really real.
I open my eye to light restored
The blessed light that cures the ailing mind
I'm talkin' the merciful assistance of sister to brother
At this point Joan interrupts, saying, "Okay, okay, I get it." The poet is puzzled. Adam whispers, "What are you doing?" Everyone stares as she continues, "I'm getting the fuse, I'm restoring the light, I'm helping out my stupid brother. Are you happy now?" Adam: "Jane." The poet is flummoxed. It dawns on Joan that the third's time not a charm as the hipster audience expresses its disapproval in the mildest possible terms, by shaking heads. She turns to Adam and says, "It's not you, I just -- I'll explain later." Adam doesn't know what to say as she takes off. The poet takes another stab at the poem, but quickly falters and says he's all messed up and can't even remember it now.
Maria is actively labouring now and Dick, who by my estimate has had his arms cuffed behind his back for something like eight or nine hours now, seems to have been promoted to breathing coach. As far as I can tell he was arrested in mid- to late morning, and it's after 7:00 PM now. Toni says, "So Wayne, do your kids know that Daddy's a criminal?" Yeah, that seems like appropriate midwifery chatter. And "Wayne?" Too late. I'm sticking with Dick. Will watches fretfully in the back corner of the elevator as Dick says, "I'd like to talk to my lawyer before I answer that. Just keep breathing with me!" Maria moans and pushes; Toni tells her to try to hold off pushing: "We're going to be out of here soon!" Yeah, that works. Dick says her contractions are two minutes apart and the baby's dropped: "The lady has to push!" Will: "Oh, God, she's pushing." Dick tells Will to take off his shoelace, because he's going to have to use it to tie off the umbilical cord. Will seems slightly woozy: "Ooh…" Toni barks, "Will, the shoelace!" Dick says, "All right, here we go! Ho-ho, I see the head! Houston, we have crowning!" Uh, maybe someone not in handcuffs would like to catch this baby? Dick tells Will to get ready because he's going to do it. Will's a complete dork about it and says he thinks Dick should do it. Dick: "I'm in handcuffs." I'm impressed that he refrains from adding, "Jackass." Because I would have, service revolver or no. Toni: "Catch the baby, Will!" Maria howls and pushes really hard, and Will somehow gets it together and helps the baby out with Dick's guidance. We see Will lift a reasonably convincing neonate from between Maria's legs, which doesn't look like the usual three-month-old Special Effects 101 TV newborn. Well done. Will: "Holy mother of God. It's a girl! Look at her." Toni laughs and smiles. Dick says she's beautiful. Maria suddenly says, "I don't want to see it." Will, surprised: "This is your baby!" Maria says through half-gritted teeth, "Take it away, I don't want it!" She cries. The other three look at each other, confused, as the baby cries.
Rabbi Polonski answers his door to find Joan standing there: "Ah, you again." Joan apologizes for bothering him, but asks to speak to Grace for a minute. He says, "I'm afraid she just left for Hebrew class." "Family thing," huh? He says she'll be back around 9:30 or 10:00. Joan: "Did you say 'Hebrew class'?" He says he did: "You know, when pasta begins to get cold, it's really…" Joan apologizes and says Grace has a notebook she really needs. He says she's welcome to come in and look, but that Grace took her books with her and said something about a chemistry exam. Joan mutters, "Perfect. Cursed by Hebrew class." She suddenly realizes how bad that sounded and gasps: "No offense, Rabbi." He replies, "Well, unfortunately, Grace seems to share your point of view, which is why she's managed to put off her bat mitzvah for three years." Joan: "Bat -- her what?" Oh, please. Is Joan really this sheltered, this uninformed? Honestly, even if she'd never met a Jewish person in her entire life, surely she's watched enough TV to pick this up. I knew what a bat mitzvah was before my age was in double digits. Then again, she didn't seem to have picked up the fundamentals of laundry from watching television either, so maybe she just has never watched television, or she's exceptionally oblivious. But then, why would God select an exceptionally oblivious person for all these missions and projects? Yeah, yeah, "mysterious ways." The Rabbi explains what a bat mitzvah is. Joan: "You've given up on the pasta, right?" He agrees: "Mmm, a while ago, yes." Joan: "So, after you do this mitzvah thing…that's it, you're all grown up?" Rabbi Polonski: "In theory, yes, but in practice, becoming an adult is more a series of steps and missteps. Don't you think?" Joan's cell phone rings and she answers it, saying, "Luke, I'm working on it." But it's Helen: "Joan Girardi, where the hell are you?" Joan says she can explain everything, but Helen doesn't want to hear it: "Just get your butt home right now." She hangs up, and Joan turns to Grace's father, saying she has to go: "I think I have some coming of age to do." He wishes her luck, and makes a mental note to install a peephole first thing in the morning.
As Joan's leaving, her phone rings again, but this time the ring tone is "When the Saints Go Marching In" and the display says, "Incoming Call: God" against a background of fluffy white clouds. Ha! That? Was awesome. She answers it: "Ha ha, very funny. What now?" It's Convenience Store God, asking, "Joan…should you really be going home right now?" Joan replies, "Okay, can I get something off my chest here? What's with God the sexist? Yeah, I said it. How come the girl in the family has to do all the cooking and running around? How old-school is that?" Convenience Store God ignores some customers while he defends himself: "Okay, Joan, check my record: I think you'll find when I call one of you to action, it doesn't matter which chromosome I gave you." Joan: "Oh, and this is your call to action? Go and run a bunch of ridiculous errands?" He reminds her she made Luke a promise. Joan: "I also promised my angry mother I would get my butt home." God thinks she's in an interesting situation: "What are your priorities? Which commitments will you honour?" Joan says he's getting very good at stating the obvious. He says he couldn't hear her and that the line is breaking up. He's totally faking the static. Couldn't God just arrange for static? Joan says, "This is not funny…hello? Hello?" She finally hangs up, sighing heavily.
They're finally out of the elevator and there are EMS people everywhere. Will's holding the newborn, wrapped in a dark blue blanket, and asking, "Who's a baby girl?" Aw. Though she's half uncovered, and you know, it's probably cold out there. You might want to wrap that baby appropriately. He adds, "Bet you're hungry." Toni comes along with Dick, still in cuffs, and says impatiently, "Okay, Will?" A paramedic comes over and takes the baby, who's adorable. Will says to Toni: "So that's it -- we just hand her off?" She reminds him, "Safe haven law, remember?" Will hands her to the paramedic and says, "Yeah. But I'll never get used to this." Toni: "Some people just can't handle the responsibility." They watch her being taken away, and then we see Maria on a gurney, avoiding their glances. Dick: "It's a hell of a thing." Will: "Can I just ask the obvious here? What's a father of three doing embezzling money from your own company?" Dick cringes a bit: "I'm not comfortable with that term, 'embezzling.' It's more of a Robin Hood kind of thing." Some other cop comes over and asks, "Is this the guy, Captain?" Will thanks Dick for all his help, and then says, "All right, get him out of here." As they leave, Dick gleefully says, "Shotgun!" Heh. When the other cop makes a face, he says, "Just kidding." Will and Toni watch the EMS people take Maria away. I do not understand the point of this storyline. I appreciate that it was not the usual clichéd resolution of the "trapped with a pregnant lady" plot. But what was the purpose of it, exactly? They've already publicized the safe haven law on this show. I can only assume it's supposed to be making a point about responsibility, in keeping with themes elsewhere in the show. But perhaps Maria was doing the most responsible thing by giving the child up. Toni's comment really irked me, because she knows jack about Maria's life and situation, so where does she get off judging her as irresponsible?
Music: Five For Fighting's "100 Years." " I'm 15 for a moment / Caught in between 10 and 20 / And I'm just dreaming…" Joan's sitting on Grace's front steps, waiting and fidgeting, when Grace arrives home. Of course, Grace is pissed. She asks, "What are you doing here?" Joan: "I didn't want to bother your dad again -- he was eating." Does Grace have a mother, or what? I think two dead mothers between Grace, Adam, and Joan would be too much for one show, so I'm guessing maybe her parents are divorced. Grace complains, "How many times have I told you: do not speak to my family?" Joan knows, and she wouldn't have, but she really needed Luke's notebook. Grace: "Well, maybe if you showed up at the library like you said you would…" Joan apologizes for that, too. She cites the "million stupid errands" she had to do, none of which she wanted to do. Grace hands her Luke's notebook, saying, "Welcome to reality." She sits down to Joan on the steps. Joan, who hardly ever knows when or how to leave well enough alone, ventures, "So, I take it you're not going to Hebrew class by choice." Grace: "What do you think?" She says she was supposed to do all this when she was thirteen, but refused. Isn't twelve the traditional age for bat mitzvahs, in recognition of the fact that girls mature earlier than boys? ["Where I grew up, everybody just did it at thirteen, girls and boys both, but I don't know that north Jersey is setting official policy there." -- Sars] Grace explains, "But now my dad's using my sick grandmother to guilt me into it." Joan: "Bummer." Grace: "You can't fight a rabbi when he breaks out the guilt. And the worst part? I finally gave in, thinking, I'll just cause a lot of trouble, you know?" Yes, we do. "Speak out for a Palestinian homeland, just to piss off the teacher." God, I love Grace. Joan laughs. Grace: "My dad loves it. He says I'm questioning the nature of God and the world, which is 'exactly in the spirit of the Talmudic scholarship.'" Joan: "That sucks." Grace: "Tell me about it. It's like there's no escaping it." Joan: "Yeah." They sigh in unison. "15, there's still time for you / Time to buy and time to choose / Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this / When you only got 100 years to live." The camera drifts away from them as they sit together in silence on the stoop and the song finishes. Wow. That really felt like a Joan of Arcadia final scene, but it's not! It's a fakeout, because we're only at the end of the third quarter.
Will arrives home to find Helen in the kitchen making lunches, or something. I comment, "Good God, that's quite a lot of vegetable matter." Frink thinks she's making her own V-8. Just what the overstressed working woman has time for. She says, sounding slightly grouchy, "You're home late." Will: "You didn't get my message?" She replies, "Of course not." She admits it hasn't been a good day. Tell him about it. The man was trapped in an elevator for about ten hours. He says, "Sorry," and kisses her. She hopes his day was better. He tells her about his day. She smiles a bit: "That must have been fun." He puts his hands on her waist and says, "Helen…what you did, having our children…" He kisses her passionately. She smiles and says, "I think you may have passed the statute of limitations on thanking me for giving birth." No shit. That would expire long before the first diaper's soiled. Will: "I just can't believe I missed going through that with you." Yeah, who knew you were such a wuss? He adds, "You must have felt so alone." Helen: "There were plenty of strangers…and painkillers." Will: "You ever think about having another?" Sure, buddy. Now you want to experience the miracle of birth. Helen: "Not today." I guess she never told him about suspecting she was pregnant.
She goes back to tossing vegetables around. Helen: "Joan cooked dinner…and then she took off God knows where, and left Luke with a 103 [degree] fever sitting in the middle of a dark, filthy kitchen." Joan's quietly stealing in as her mother's saying this. Will: "Want me to have a talk with her?" Helen says, "It's not just Joan. It's, um…it's our whole family. We're just not ready." She's decided she shouldn't be teaching: "Our kids can't handle two working parents." That is just ridiculous. Stop being such a control freak and teach those kids how to be more self-sufficient. Beside which, she was working before. Yes, her new job's much more demanding, but her youngest child is fifteen. They are all more than capable of shopping, cooking, cleaning, and doing errands. Joan, having overheard all this, comes in and says she was going to clean it up. Helen wants to know where she's been. Will: "Why didn't you call?" Joan says she was out getting fuses: "Luke didn't tell you that?" Helen: "We have fuses. And how does that take all night?" Joan says she had other stuff to do. Helen: "Well, what if I just took off when I had other stuff to do?" Joan: "You did!" She says her mother had a meeting and her father had work and Kevin had "whatever," so she covered. Helen: "Leaving your sick brother alone in the dark isn't exactly covering." Will wonders why Luke was in the dark. Joan: "Because the electrical wiring in this house is totally screwy! Which is why I had to go out to try to fix it and go out and get Luke's chemistry notebook so he can go to space camp!" Kevin arrives at this point. Will: "Luke wants to go to space camp?" Kevin: "Hi, guys!" Joan: "Yes, and if I don't have his application in the mail by midnight tonight then the whole universe is probably going to be out of whack, in some way I don't even want to know about, so if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the post office!" She marches out. Kevin: "Okay, goodnight everybody!" Helen wants to know where he's been. He wheels off, saying, "Uh, just out…" Will walks over and stands to Helen, saying, "You know, you can use a shoelace to tie off an umbilical cord…" She just gives him a look. There's a wacky, sitcom-ish musical cue of the type that is becoming increasingly intrusive on this show. A little of that goes a long way, people. Settle down with that.
It's the day. Kevin's in his room throwing lots of little soft balls through a basketball hoop. Luke ambles down the hall, still sick but rather more lucid than yesterday, saying, "Yeah, I thought I heard sports." He asks Kevin why he's home. Kevin says he's taking a sick day: "Which is an awesome thing to do when you're not actually sick." Yup. Er, not that I would know. It just sounds really good. Luke: "Yeah, I'll have to try it sometime." Luke asks where he was last night. Kevin: "When did my social life become such a hot topic around here?" Luke: "We're just trying to live vicariously." Ooh! Points for the increasingly rare non-redundant use of "vicariously." He adds, "Did you and Rebecca go out?" Kevin: "That's, uh, kind of on hold." I'll bet. He decides to tell Luke about his EMG. Luke: "Electromyography? How come?" Kevin: "It's supposed to figure out if any of my nerves are waking up, which I thought they were. Turns out they weren't." Luke says hesitantly that that's not entirely unexpected. Kevin says he had a weird feeling in his gut: "Like gas, which I haven't felt since, you know, before…but Dr. Hughes says it's just phantom pain. Unless it happens again -- then it could be neural regeneration." Luke: "What are the odds of it happening again?" Kevin laughs a sort of fake laugh: "About the same as you making the NBA." He tosses Luke a ball, and Luke holds it for a moment. He then decides to make a shot, and you can tell he really, really wants to sink it. Frink and I are praying aloud that he doesn't, because that would be just so cheeseball. And not in a good way. Luke throws and misses. Thank God. Kevin looks mildly bummed: "Whatever, right?" Luke watches him throw a ball and sink the basket.
Friedman, Grace, Joan, and Adam emerge from their chemistry exam. Joan (who's wearing an eggplant-coloured sweater that looks nice on her) and Adam think they bombed it. Glynis comes twitching after them and asks Joan, "How is he?" Joan laughs a little: "Luke?" She touches Glynis's hand and says, "He's sick, but he's going to pull through." Glynis clucks, "I hope so! I'm sorry -- it's just -- it's been so hard…" She throws them a panicked look and runs off. Adam asks Joan what happened last night. Joan: "Oh, I'm sorry…just…poetry kind of freaks me out, and I had to meet Grace after her bat mitzvah class." Grace, at her locker, turns her head and says, "Shut up right now!" Of course, Friedman's in between them, and didn't miss a word. He stands up and says to Grace, "Bat mitzvah. Going for the full Jew, huh?" Grace snarls at Joan, "Great. Why don't you just broadcast it over the PA?" Man, don't give her ideas. Friedman's full of advice: "I say, soak it up. I got totally wasted on kosher wine at mine, kissed Jennifer Cohen, and made two grand!" Grace slams her locker and takes off: "You never let me down, do you, Girardi?" Adam calls after her, "Wait…what's a bat mitzvah?" Oy. Him, too? Friedman comes over, puts his arm around Adam, and starts walking him along as he explains, "Well, you see, Adam, even before we were slaves in Egypt, there was this tiny baby floating around in the bullrushes. Now, the little tyke's name was Moses. Now, Mo, as we call him, he apparently was a stutterer…" Ha! How much would I like to hear the rest of The Pentateuch According to Friedman?
But it's time for a chat with Goth God, who approaches Joan, finally alone at her locker. Frink, checking out his makeup job: "It must take God forever to get ready in the morning." Joan sees him and says, "Oh. You again. Do you ever show up when I actually need help?" He says, "You don't need me. You're doing great." Joan: "Oh, okay, so you're here to, what, show me your new nose ring?" Heh. I bet God's piercings always heal perfectly. Actually, he wants her to pick up some Cream of Wheat on her way home. Joan: "Cream of what?" No, Cream of Wheat, Joan. God says, "It's got a lot of iron. Luke needs it." Joan says he doesn't understand: "I'm done. Luke gets to put on his space suit, Mom got to her meeting, crisis averted, have a pleasant day." She salutes him as she turns and walks away. She stops short after a few steps, frustrated. She stamps her foot and turns: "You're not going to stop me?" He shrugs, saying it's her choice to walk away: "I just think it's interesting that of all the tasks I've given you, buying Cream of Wheat is the one you're abandoning." Joan bursts out: "Because it's endless! It's a black hole of never-ending worries and responsibilities." Girl, you have no idea. Goth God: "It's called growing up." Joan: "Oh well, what if I don't want to?" Then you'll end up on The Jerry Springer Show someday. Or if you become insanely rich, you can be Michael Jackson. Goth God gets all Deepak Chopra on her: "In the brief time we've been talking, thousands of cells in your body have died and renewed themselves. You're changing all the time. It's how you know you're alive." Joan thinks it seems scary. Goth God just stares at her. Joan: "And now here's the part where you reassure me…" He just says solemnly: "It is scary." I was hoping Joan would say something here like, "Well, thou hast comforted me marvelous much," but maybe she hasn't studied Romeo and Juliet yet. He reaches toward Joan's shoulder bag and unzips the outside pocket, pulling out the Archie, the turtle ashtray. He hands it to her, saying, "Fortunately…you're not alone." He walks away.
Helen's picking up all kinds of broken shards in her empty classroom when Joan arrives, wondering, "You're not packing up, are you?" Helen says she's just cleaning. Joan says she heard a rumour that she was going to quit: "I mean, I wouldn't blame you after yesterday." Helen says she's not quitting, and apologizes for being so hard on Joan the night before: "I know you were just trying to help." Joan doesn't say anything, but pulls out Archie. She offers it to her mother, saying, "Here. You can use it if you want to." Helen refuses, saying it's Joan's. Joan: "Well, what do I do, just smash it, or…?" Helen tells her to put on safety goggles, and to try not to make the pieces too small, and to be careful of her fingers. Joan cops a tude: "Mom!" Hey, listen, girlie, you sprained an ankle in a washing machine. You need all the guidance you can get. Joan gets ready to smash Archie. She's only slightly more ept with the hammer than Denise. She's hesitant at first but then gets into it. Frink intones, "'Smashing her turtle, Joan becomes a woman.'"
After Archie's pretty well hammered, Joan confesses that she thinks she failed her chemistry exam. Helen's blasé: "Oh, that's too bad." Joan: "That's all you're gonna say?" She whacks Archie again. Helen: "Well, one of the nice things about you getting older is you're getting better at punishing yourself." Joan gives Archie one last whack and then asks, "How's that?" Helen says it's pretty good, and then admits, "One of the reasons that I have been so cranky lately is that I haven't been getting any sleep. I'm just so terrified about teaching, I just keep going over and over what I'm going to say till three in the morning." Joan: "I always thought that once you're an adult, you just sort of wake up with all the answers." Helen thinks that would be nice, but informs her, "There's hardly ever any answers, just more questions." There's a shot of the chunks of Archie stuck artlessly in plaster. Joan: "Cool." I think she's talking about Archie, not the nature of adulthood. Helen takes the box away to dry and tells Joan, "Hey, I tried some of that meatloaf -- you did something to the garlic?" Joan: "Oh, I roasted it first." Helen gets a weird expression on her face. Joan: "Was it -- was it bad?" Helen: "No, it was really good." She wants to know where Joan learned to do that. Joan smiles: "I saw it on Iron Chef. So, it was -- it was good?" Helen nods. So Joan does watch TV -- Iron Chef, at least. Not much information there about laundry or bat mitzvahs (the plural is "mitzvoth," I think) though.
Later that evening, Joan is setting the table and calling people to dinner. Kevin wheels in, complaining, "Meatloaf again?" Man, anybody who doesn't cook doesn't get to complain. Joan: "Shut up! This time you're eating it." Kevin: "Seriously, I just had a burrito around four, I'm still in a coma." Will and Luke arrive. Will advises him, "Kevin, you're a Girardi. Eat." Heh. To Joan: "Smells great, kiddo!" Joan says, "Mom's on her way -- she says not to wait." Luke, still in his robe, mutters, "You know, I want to be hungry, I do. And yet, somehow…" Joan hands him a bowl of Cream of Wheat. Luke: "Cream of…?" Joan: "Wheat. It has iron. Eat it." Will's filling his plate as he asks Joan, "You made this…like, uh, made it?" Joan nods and smiles, clearly pleased with herself. Kevin has an odd expression on his face, and he suddenly reaches across the table to Luke: "Dude. Pull my finger." Luke laughs: "What?" Joan chides him: "Kevin!" Will ignores them with a "boys will be boys" expression. Kevin: "Seriously. Pull my finger." Luke complies. Kevin lets one rip. It sounds much like a whoopee cushion. Joan laughs and is revolted at the same time. She asks, "Do you have, like, amplifiers down there?" Only Luke realizes what it means. Joan blathers to Will as Luke says quietly, "Wait, so that means…" Kevin nods: "Isn't that awesome?" He commands Luke to once again pull his finger. Will asks, "Guys…a little civility?" Luke complies again, and Kevin performs another of the incontrovertible Miracles of the Farts. Will winces, and Joan guffaws. Luke looks genuinely happy for Kevin, who nods back at him. Joan: "That's so sick." Kevin: "I think I've got another one." He points his finger at Joan, who refuses and tells him to stop it. Helen arrives amidst the glee and asks what she missed. Kevin: "Mom…pull my finger." Joan and Luke tell her not to do it. Wouldn't Helen realize what it means? Kevin hushes them. He holds his finger up and gives her his best "I'm your little angel boy baby darling" smile. Helen decides to humour him. We fade to black on another explosive fart. That just might be television's most touching fart ever.