Only Connect

Props to JennB, QASteph, Rob-Bob, and Jason, who all responded over the summer to my request for someone to compile a list or spreadsheet of all the first season Gods. Thanks, guys! Now I just have to work at keeping it up over Season Two�

And the season starts with�an aneurysm. Mine, not Joan's. We have two TV sets: a bigger one in the living room (first floor), with the comfortable couch and everything, but where the relatively new VCR hasn't worked since we got digital cable in January; and a small TV/VCR combo in my office (second floor), which I use for recapping. I tape shows in the office since that's the only VCR that works. Unfortunately, because of some stupid broadcasting boojum I don't understand, any given channel is broadcasting one network at one moment, and at the hour it's some other network. Channel 9 is sometimes CTV, which shows Joan of Arcadia, but then suddenly at the turn of the hour it's not, and CTV's over on Channel 5 or something. But not always. It makes it very difficult to ensure you're taping or watching the right channel. Anyway, after four months away from recapping, during which time I watched maybe five hours of television altogether, I forgot about this idiocy, so when the show started Friday night, or more to the point, didn't start, but some dumbass sitcom featuring people I'm sure I've seen on the Fug Blog came on, I bolted up the stairs like a squirrel on PCP to try to stop the tape in my office while Professor Frink worked the remote control and yelled channel instructions up the stairs. I was freaking not just because the beginning of my tape would be screwed up but because I was missing the show, after all these months of waiting. While I cursed like a Marine and struggled with the tape, Frink was telling me what was going on show-wise. The tape straightened out, I flew back downstairs only to find that the channel broadcasting the show had picked this moment to start having transmission problems: picture blanking out every few seconds, static and lines and I don't know what. Not happening on any other channel. I really thought my head was going to explode. Luckily, during the first commercial we found another station way up the dial showing the episode without all the interference. All this is to explain why I don't have the first ninety seconds of the show, and why I have a crappy version of the opening, and why I missed seeing Christopher Marquette's and Becky Wahlstrom's names in the list of regular cast members on first viewing.

Anyway. Joan's sitting on a park bench, indifferently staring ahead. Some guys are tossing a football back and forth. Her hair is dyed a darker colour, about which I'm fairly undecided -- I think it makes her look too pale, which may be an effect they're going for -- but she's cut heavy, thick bangs into her hair, and the overall effect is pretty Emily the Strange mixed with some Winnie Cooper. It also looks to me like she's had her hair thinned all over to take the bulk out of it. It's weird, because at the beginning of last season, I had a strong preference for the shorter, lighter fringe she'd had when they did the publicity photos for Joan of Arcadia, and was disappointed when the show started because I wasn't sure I liked the bangless look, but it grew on me pretty quickly. I think Amber Tamblyn is very pretty no matter what, so this will probably grow on me. I don't think it's going to grow on Frink, though. He couldn't stop commenting on it throughout the show. It does make her look younger, less angelic, less approachable, and less sure of herself, so that may be what they're going for. As for the dress she's wearing, well�it's dreadful -- I hope deliberately so. I loved most of Joan's wardrobe last year. This is a droopy dress with a tiny black polka-dot pattern on an off-white background, with gathered cap sleeves and a gathered, almost smocked collar with thin floppy black ribbon trim around it. It's a noncommittal mid-calf length with a deep, limp ruffle around the bottom. It's got self-ties in the back and more thin black ribbon detail around the waist near the bottom of the ribs and the top of the hips, sectioning off one tight area around the middle that is in painful contrast to the Mary Ingalls-ness of the rest. It's awful. If Joan's trying to do "normal," she's got to try harder, because I'm pretty sure that Sylvia Plath wouldn't have worn that dress to clean the oven, never mind stick her head in it. Joan's still got deep red nails and her thick watchband, though. Okay, we've got most of the hair and wardrobe stuff out of the way. (Note to those dolts who write to me without Clue #1 of what the site is about and tell me to just recount every last thing that happens in the episode and keep my comments about hair, clothes and sets to myself: just stow it, because all that does is to incite me to make even more such comments.)

Adam approaches the bench tentatively and says, "Jane." She turns and gives him a brief, apprehensive look before plastering on what she thinks looks like the smile of a girl who is pleased to see her boyfriend. Adam: "Look, it's you." He seems genuinely happy to see her, but also a bit hesitant. Joan replies awkwardly, "And it's you." She gets up and walks toward him, clutching him quickly and giving him the kind of hug you'd give your brother, all firm pats on the back and sister-like. But you can tell from the way Adam closes his eyes that he's missed her badly, that it's been a lonely, confusing summer for him. He's carrying a load of books in his arms so he can't fully embrace her. She finishes her perfunctory hug and quickly returns the bench as Adam tries to say, "I've missed" She interrupts, holding up some monstrosity: "I made this." By adding, "I did all the wiring," she conveys the general idea that it is a lamp. And it's a lamp fuglier than anything Dez ever came up with on Trading Spaces. It looks like it's made out of wire andI don't knowgoldenrod? I think I shot the wad of my descriptive powers on Joan. Trust me, it's hideous. Adam accepts it as he sits beside her. Thanking her, asks pleasantly, "Why?" Joan explains that's what they did "at camp" -- made crafts. "Very good for crazy people." Adam: "You're not crazy." Joan, as brightly as she can manage: "No, not anymore. How was your summer?" He's been working long shifts at the hotel: "What do you want to know about grout, plaster, or unclogging toilets? And don't get me started on caulk, because that's my passion." Uhwhuh? In my discombobulation over the taping problems, I only half-heard this dialogue (missing the line about grout, et cetera, completely) and I'm all, "What? What did he say about cock? What the hell is going on?" Joan laughs as warmly as she can, but boy does it feel hollow. Adam says he got her letters, but not enough of them. Joan explains she had to keep a journal and talk to her shrink every day: "I got really sick of myself." Adam was under the impression she was going to some kind of art camp. Joan titters: "Gentle Acres? No. Ha ha! Definitely a crazy camp." Frink: "Did she say 'Mental Acres'?" Me: "No, but that's what we're calling it from here on out." Joan says her roommate, Darlene, was a trichotillomaniac. Except Joan doesn't use the five-dollar word, she just says she was a compulsive hair-puller: "Not a good look." Adam: "But you had a disease." Joan: "Which made me see things that weren't therewhich caused me to break from reality, and then I'd transfer all of my anxiety onto the hallucination and invest in my fractured perception or something like that." She does the little quotation marks gesture with her fingers, which I'll pretend I didn't see, because it bugs. Joan claims to be doing well now. She adds that her roommate looked like Vin Diesel.

She then asks about the pile of books Adam's carrying around, and he grabs one called Voices, Visions and Apparitions, explaining that he's been reading books over the summer to figure out how what happened to Joan might really have happened. She looks concerned as Adam says, "You know, seeing God" She hushes him and looks around, and then reminds him that he's the only one who knows about that part. So she did she tell her therapist or not? Maybe she means the only one other than her shrink. "Everybody still thinks that I was just talking to people, okay? So let's drop the G-word." Adam starts citing documentation about people seeing God (how can you "document" that, really? All you can document are claims and behaviour), but Joan insists, "Adam, Adam, Adam: seeing him/her/it is a sure sign of crazy. It's, like, the ber-sign." Adam: "Just because your therapist said so" Joan says "Dr. Dan" never used the word "crazy." He preferred "impaired perception." She adds, "Which you knew was nuts, which is why you didn't believe me." Adam, softly: "But I believe you now." Joan doesn't want that anymore. Adam: "Why?" Joan: "Because I'm saneand I made all these lamps." Of course, when Joan says she's sane, this is when the signal started acting up so everything's flickering and turning all kinds of colours and it really undermines her point in a hilariously cheesy way. Adam: "But what if it's possible?" Joan insists it's not: "Look, Adam, you've gotta get on board with this if we're going to hang." He's clearly not too comfortable with this, and after a pause, remarks, "You seem so different." Frink: "It's the hair, dude." Me: "Not to mention the threads from the vintage store to the Asylum for the Terminally Dowdy." Joan: "Yeah'cause I'm not crazy." You can tell Adam isn't nursing a fetish for the aggressively normal. She says she has to go and pecks him on the cheek, telling him to call her later. As she walks off, Adam calls, "Jane, wait" At the same moment, a skateboarder zips past her on the path and says, "Watch it there, Jane." Jane? God calls her Jane? Joan stops short and the camera zooms in on her as she considers this. As she and the skateboarder move off in opposite directions, Skateboarding God gives her a Godwave she doesn't see. So I guess she didn't see God the whole time she was at Mental Acres? She tosses her hair and practices her "normal" expression.

Credits. Okay, this time I get to cheer: they're mostly the same as last year, except there's Christopher Marquette's name! And a shot of him and Joan in chemistry class, and one of him working in his garage, pushing up his welding mask. And Becky Wahlstrom! Yay! Shot of her and Joan talking on Grace's porch, and the shot of Grace from "Anonymous", where the coloured pages of her poem are showering her in the school courtyard. I love that shot. Well done, powers that be. Things are now slightly more right in the universe.

Girardi kitchen. Will comes in moaning about having overslept. Joan is working on yet another craptastic lamp, this one with a cheese grater base. (Given the lamp, maybe I should have called this the Girardi kitschen -- and there's a Trading Spaces joke I never thought I'd be able to recycle for this show.) Joan proffers it to her unenthusiastic father, who "thought [they] were done with the lamps." Joan claims, "No, this is -- this is my thing." Will, not much bothering to hide his indifference: "Okay, but we have a lot of lamps." And they're crapping up this nice house. Kevin tells his father to take the lamp unless he wants Joan to go nuts again. Joan stares at Kevin, who advises her, "See, you can get a lot of mileage out of the crazy thing. I'd work it." Will takes the lamp and tells Kevin to stop using the word "crazy." He also asks where Helen is; Kevin says she left early. As did Luke. Kevin clarifies: "Mom had an errand and Luke had a thing." Joan: "They are so obviously CIA." Heh. A tinfoil hat would take our minds off those bangs, Joan. Also, what's with the striped T-shirt and the floral skirt? As Will grabs the plate Joan's prepared for herself, he asks Kevin if he looked at some golf brochure. Kevin: "Yes! Apparently, paralyzed people can play golf. They can also surf, ski, and/or sail." Will claims that he and Kevin need a common activity. What about that boat? Kevin: "So why don't you learn to surf, ski, and/or sail?" Will: "I'm old." Kevin: "I'm crippled." Will looks annoyed. Kevin claims he can't do anything that's going to make him "look even dorkier." Will: "Oh, Tiger Woods -- he's dorky?" Joan and Kevin: "Yeah." Will tells Kevin to think about it as he runs off to work. Kevin calls out to Will, "You know, golf is good for crazy people, too." Joan: "Nice." ["Sars: 'No it isn't. Ask my parents.'" -- Sars] Kevin smirks.

Behind a short brick wall enclosing the patio of an eatery that's closed for renovations, Luke and Grace aremaking out furiously. Yep. Frink: "Lasted all summer? I'm impressed." Luke has his glasses off. He's so cute. I think Michael Welch has grown a lot since last season. Grace (whose hair is a little longer and much less greasy-looking than when we first met her, but still doesn't give the impression she cares too much -- it's cute) is surreptitiously glancing at her watch, eventually informing Luke, "You're into overtime." Luke begs, "Five more minutes." Grace: "You've used up all your minutes." Luke: "What am I, a cell phone?" Grace: "No, but you are a service provider." Hee. They kiss some more and Grace (who's sitting on her skateboard) finally pushes herself away, declaring, "Okay, that is definitely it." Luke: "Do I really only get five minutes a day?" Grace: "Minimum. Did you even read it?" Luke: "You know, actually I was so thrown by having to sign a confidentiality contract -- I may have skimmed." Grace: "That's your mistake. You signed it." Luke protests, "But look, if you're my girlfriend" Grace makes a lot of unrenderable noises of resistance, saying, "Don't start using the g-word, or the b-word, or any gender-related coupling word. That was Article 4 under Public and Private Verbalization." So both Grace and Joan have g-word issues. Luke smacks his hands to his head and asks what this is about, whether she's ashamed of him. Grace: "Yeah. Take it or leave it." Harsh. So, thenwhy are you in it, Grace? As she stands up, she notices someone and asks, "Dude, is that your mother?" Luke sneers, "Yeah, great diversionary tactic" She takes his chin in her hand and points his face in the right direction. They see Helen pacing back and forth in front of a caf called Mocha Mike's. Luke: "Oh, God, that is my mother. What is she doing here?" Grace doesn't care: "Let's jet." He stands there staring, and Grace comes back to grab him: "Hey! Hardy Boy!" They duck away.

Helen, who's clearly waiting for someone, finally decides to ask another loiterer -- a younger, tattooed woman in black leather with multicoloured hair who's smoking -- if there's any chance she's Lily Waters. Turns out she is: "You Helen?" Helen doesn't say anything; Lily, being the perceptive type, realizes there may be a few reasons Helen's speechless and put outs her cigarette, remarking, "I know, it's killing me. The body is a temple, I know. It's my sin. One of 'em, anyway." Helen's still standing there with her mouth hanging open. Lily: "Are you okay?" Helen finally asks, "UhSister Lily Waters?" They shake hands as Lily says, "Nice to meet you. Father Ken says you're 'cool.'" Helen stammers over her words, "I didn't know that they let nuns do that." Lily: "Former nun. I left. I was not kicked out. I left." Helen seems unconvinced. Lily explains: "Look, you remember The Sound of Music? That's the kind of nun I was. Only it was surfing instead of spinning on a hillside. Uh, soyou wanna be confirmed in the Church." Helen says she's thinking about it. Lily invites her inside. Lily looks like the only Sisters of Mercy she'd know anything about are the ones with a record deal.

Lischak's class, only this year, it's physics (same seating plan as chemistry), and man, is she wired. She's also much blonder. She begins her speech: "Physicsmy little anthropic coincidencesis everything." She starts prowling and grooving and rhapsodizing around the room with her pointer. "Particles, matter, antimatter, energy, fission, fusion, neurons, bozons, quarks, neutrinos, antineutrinos, dimensions, determinism, strong force, weak force, relativity, velocity, chaos, order, air, fire, water, love, sex, death, time, space and God!" You know, I realize network TV's been getting less uptight all the time, but I think Lischak might have to rein it in, because I really don't think CBS is going to let her have an orgasm in front of her class full of sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds. Joan's slightly rattled by the word "God." Also: Bozons? Excellent. That might even be a shout-out to Frink. Friedman's question: "Will the final be comprehensive?" Ms. Lischak purrs, "Oh, this class is going to wow your boxers off, Mr. Friedman, so don't you worry about the final." Uhhuh. I'd better not be seeing anything more on the boxerless Friedman front. Also: bucking for a sexual misconduct or harassment lawsuit, much? Luke keeps glancing around at Grace, who regards him with her customary hostility, saying to Joan, "Tell your brother to stop looking at me." Joan, to her credit, tells Grace, "We're not doing this again this year, okay? You tell him." Grace lets go of the elastic she's playing with and it accidentally -- I believe -- hits Glynis (who's gone back to her old "style" of dressing, if we may call it that, but has slightly less dorky hair). Glynis snaps at Luke, "Is it necessary for your soul mate to assault me?" Luke: "She's not my soul mate. We don't even talk. We hate each other, in fact." Talk about protesting too much. Glynis replies: "I've seen the way you look at her. You're all about her." Luke denies it. Friedman: "This is like arguing about Superman's pee or something. She likes the other equipment, dude." That merits him an elastic from Grace. Superman'spee?

Joan's shelving books at the bookstore. She grabs one fat tome, muttering, "Thomas Wolfe." She grabs another hefty volume and says, "Tom Wolfe" Frink and I: "'Ketchupcatsup. Ketchupcatsup.'" Joan: "Not the same guy. Both very long-winded, though." Sammy's lurking in the background watching her. He asks her if she's talking to herself. Surprised, she fesses up, but adds, "Not in a way that's crazy, though." As Joan attempts to shelve the books in a section that's too short to accommodate them, Sammy says she arrived on time, completed the inventory, and is now unpacking stock: "What did they do to you at that camp?" Joan mentions drugs and shock treatment. Sammy looks apprehensive until Joan says she's kidding. Sammy asks, "So, uh, what did this breakdown look like?" Joan explains she was just imagining things because of the Lyme disease. Sammy wonders, "Did you think animals were reading your mind?" You mean, animals other than Friedman? Joan, confused, says nothing. Sammy elaborates: "Not animalsjust this one rabbit?" Joan still doesn't know what to say, so Sammy explains that his wife spends a lot of time at home. Hey, so do I, and I don't think animals can read my mind. Um, usually. There's this one squirrel Sammy continues, "She's an artist. She's needs a hobby or a job. I'm sure it's just temporary, the rabbit thing" He seems a lot wearier than he did this time last year -- and if you'll recall, his wife was having some rabbit issues then, too, so I can only imagine what the past year has been like for him. Joan: "I'm not really the go-to girl for crazy behaviour. I had a one-time thing." Sammy: "I guess it's a broad spectrum. Continuum, really. What's normal, what isn'twithout deviation from the norm, progress is not possible. That's Sartre. Or Zappa." Heh. A customer has come in, saying, "Excuse me." It's Mrs. LandingGod! As Joan turns and stares, Mrs. LandingGod adds, "Am I invisible? Can anyone see me standing here?" Hee! Sammy doesn't turn around, and Joan tries to hide behind a book propped up for display on a shelf. Sammy says, "We have a customer." Joan says she's busy, and asks Sammy to look after her: "You're so much better with people." Yeah, that's Sammy. What did they do to her at that camp? She ducks down behind the shelf.

A detective follows Will into his office with some paperwork. Frink: "What's that guy's name?" I tell him I can't remember, but that I call him Chewy, which he seems to find amusing. Chewy asks Will, "How's your kid? The one that, you know, lost it?" Clearly the Arcadia Police Department or Sheriff's Department or whatever Will works for now cut back on the budget for sensitivity seminars. Will says she's fine, and that she didn't "lose it." Will adds, testily, "Anything else?" Chewy wants to know if Will's going to finish whatever it is he was holding on a napkin. Seriously, Chewy: look into a good parasite cleanse. Will just hands it to him. Some other guy comes in and says, "Mr. Will Girardi?" He offers an envelope and Will takes it, saying, "Detective Girardi. Who are you?" The guy's already on his way out: "Process server." Will: "Whoa-oh! What's this?" Process Server says, "It's self-explanatory," and vamooses. Chewy chews and licks his finger and smirks: "You're being sued." Okay, where's Toni, and when's she coming back? He reads over Will's shoulder, asking, "Who the hell's Andrew Baker? A disgruntled perp? The department'll handle it." Will, stunned, explains he's the kid who drove Kevin home from a party -- drunk: "You know the rest." Even Chewy seems to understand this is not the time for smart remarks: "That's screwed up." Yes, it sure is.

Kevin and Joan are at the kitchen table; he's explaining to her about adaptive golf: "They Velcro you to a golf cart." Joan's not really listening as he rambles on: "If I do this, I will seal my doom. I will donate my genitalia to science." Ew. There's a visual I didn't need. Kevin says that as much as he likes his dad, he just can't do this. Luke runs in saying he has to run, because he has a physics thing. Joan: "Hey! I'm in that class; I don't have a thing." Will comes down the kitchen stairs as Helen tells him she has to leave early and that there are some bagels somewhere. He says he has to leave early too; he has a thing. Helen: "What's your thing?" Will: "What's yours?" Uh, secrets, apparently. Joan: "I need a thing." I thought that's what the lamps were supposed to be. Kevin smirks, "You can have mine, after adaptive golf." Joan: "Dad! Kevin's making penis jokes, and he doesn't want to play golf with you." Kevin wants to do something like white water rafting: "Something wherein we can be killed? That works better for me." Helen casts a "nay" vote for high-fatality sporting events, and leaves. Will tells Kevin not to worry about golf. Kevin's confused by Will's change of heart. Will leaves, and Joan says she's starting to miss crazy camp. I'm starting to make up songs in my head about crazy camp, to the tune of "Smelly Cat."

Grace and Luke are in their make-out spot -- making out -- when Grace says they have to pick another spot: "There's a security guard that drives around." Luke: "He's gonna tell the kids at school?" Grace says he could know people there. Luke: "You are so hyper-vigilant." Grace: "Oh, don't use big words. Maybe we should just call this whole thing off. Friedman is so obviously aware. Have you said anything?" Could Friedman be any less "aware"? Could she be any more paranoid? Luke insists he doesn't say anything to anyone, adding, "But, you knowthe sexual tensionpeople are gonna start to pick up on it." Grace: "Did you just use 'sex' in a sentence?" Luke: "Did I? I'm sorry. My mistake." Luckily for him, Oliver Wendell Polk, Jr. is distracted by something: "Dude, there's your mother again!" As Luke puts on his glasses, Grace adds: "Is she, like, a drug dealer?" Luke: "I have no idea." Ha! They watch Helen and Father Ken (in civvies) go into Mocha Mike's.

Helen and Father Ken walk over to a prime table by the window. Frink: "No way they got that seat." Helen complains that "Sister Lily" was rude to her. Father Ken reminds her: "Former Sister Lily." Which might not have been her name, if they still make nuns take new names in the convent. Do they still do that? Maybe that went out with Vatican II. Frink: "And those coffee cups are not funky enough." Father Ken adds, "She was rude?" Helen: "Yes. And she was off-putting." Father Ken: "She was off-putting?" Helen: "Why are you repeating everything I say?" Father Ken confesses: "Reruns of West Wing." Oh, the roaring that emanated from our couch! A shout-out to me and a burn for that show in one line? That rules. This show rules. Barbara Hall rules. Helen goes on to complain, in her most schoolmarmish tone, "Plus she was smoking. Yes, smoking. Which does not seem very nun-like." I guess that depends on which nuns you hang with. (And don't miss this page.) Helen sure can bring the prim when she wants to. The priest reminds her one more time that Lily is a former nun, and wonders if Helen is tattling on her. Helen admits, "I don't like her. Am I going to hell?" Father Ken points out that confirmation is a long process, and maybe she's not ready to choose the Catholic faith. Helen says, "I had these dreams, and I was suddenly aware that God is real, and I have been ignoring him." Man, Helen, if you're that clear, what's the problem? Jump in. She adds that she doesn't think God's going to be too pleased with Father Ken if he discourages her. Father Ken, who's clearly managed to get the upper hand in this relationship -- a far cry from the buttonholed, beleaguered solicitor of charity we met a year ago -- teases her about threatening a priest. Helen bemoans that things were simple when she used to go to church: God likes it when you're good and doesn't like it when you're bad. Father Ken wonders if she believes she's being punished for bad behaviour with things like Kevin's paralysis and Joan's illness. Helen doesn't say anything, but you can tell that's what she feels. Father Ken: "That'squite vain." Helen's hurt: "You are notbeing very nice." He insists God simply doesn't work that way. She asks how he knows. Father Ken: "Because if he did, I'd be working for some big cosmic jerk and I'd have to find another job." I like the way he glances ever-so-briefly heavenward, as if he's slightly worried about being struck down. Helen says nothing, so he adds, "You must think he's kind of a jerk, too -- which is why you can't bring him home." Oh, a direct hit. You sunk her battleship!

Joan, Adam, Grace, Luke, and Friedman are walking through the halls at school as Joan comments that physics is cool and she thinks she's going to like it a lot better than chemistry. She rambles, "Particles. Wow. It's fission and fusionespecially now that I understand light! Welllamps." Hee. Grace tells her she's babbling. Friedman: "A pastime of the mentally impaired." I'm not sure whether he means making fugly lamps, or babbling. Grace and Joan both smack him on the head -- hard. That's always a shout-out. He barks, "Guys, hands off Friedman! This year, okay? Please!" Glynis comes running up behind them and starts walking along, announcing breathlessly, "I am so psyched about quantum chromodynamics!" Joan chimes in, "I know. It is kinda hot!" Adam looks disturbed: "Jane, you can't get all happy about science. It's totally gonna mess up our dynamic." She says she's just trying to take a new approach to school: "You know: optimism!" Grace: "Well, keep it to yourself." Glynis makes a sneering face at Grace when she says this, but Grace doesn't catch it. Watch your tape closely, you'll see it. Luke walks at the back of the gaggle, listening and watching Grace and glancing at Glynis. Adam says he might have to drop the class because his job doesn't leave him much time to study. Joan says he can't drop physics. He tells her he's only taking it because of her: "And if you're going to be all weird about it" Gotta love this show: a boy taking physics because of a girl he likes. She insists she's not being weird, she's being optimistic. Grace barks: "You guys are doing the pukey couple thing!" Glynis leaps into the breach to inform Grace, "The love of science is a bonding experience. Like the Curies, or Voltaire and his mistress." Tell her all about it, girlie. She built a rail gun with Rocket Boy. Grace: "Nobody's talking about bonding." Friedman brings his unique perspective to the proceedings: "Listen, guys, all I know is that physics gets Lischak even hotter than chemistry ever could, and that totally works for me. Hey, Grace? I'm betting it works for you, too." Grace: "Spend your summer at the trough, did you, Friedman?" He taunts: "At least the Friedman knows which flavour he likes." Ugh. Luke can't take it anymore: he grabs Friedman's sleeve in a protective fit and tells him to back off. The tension instantly ratchets up as Friedman looks surprised and Grace bristles, trying not to reveal how pissed off she is. Luke realizes his error and bolts off. Maybe he'll be doing that this year, instead of Glynis. No one really knows what to say, and as Joan stands there bewildered, she notices a familiar spiky 'do glide by: it's Goth God. Or at least, a kid who looks a lot like himwe only see him from the back. Same kind of getup: plaid pants, big boots, black leather jacket. Joan stares. Adam asks if she's okay. Joan: "I'm fine! I'm great! I'm optimistic. I'll meet you at the park later." She bolts, too. Friedman takes the opportunity to do the "nuts" gesture, twirling his finger by his temple: "Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" Grace, Adam, and Glynis all give him a shove or a smack.

Will has a meeting with a lawyer in a wood-paneled office. As he so often must, he plays Exposition Fairy: "Andy Baker was drunkveered into oncoming trafficflipped the carwalked away without a scratch." He explains that after Kevin's paralysis was confirmed, lawyers approached them, but Helen didn't want to proceed with a lawsuit; she didn't want to punish a kid for being stupid. Will says they certainly could have used the money, with all the medical expenses. He says, "Almost three years later, they're claiming emotional damages? I know they can't win, but it's just the idea of it." The lawyer, looking over the documents, asks, "Will, umKevin called you on the phone before he left the party that night?" Will says he always checked in. Lawyer: "And he told you that his friend Andy was drunk?" Will: "Drinking." Lawyer: "Kevin was not drunk, but he let Andy drive anyway?" Will says Kevin tried to take Andy's keys away. Seeing the expression on the lawyer's face, Will gets concerned: "Hey! Heymy son was paralyzed! They're going to talk to me about emotional damages? They really want to take me on about that? Their son walked away without a scratch! What kind of people act like this?" Frink and I can't get the word out fast enough: "Americans." The lawyer states, "Money's a powerful force." Will says there's no way they can win. The lawyer says they'll give it everything they've got. He asks that Will and Helen write down everything they can remember about Kevin's friendship with Andy and that night in particular. Will: "TomI cannot take this to my wife."

Joan's lying on the grass in the park, reading a book. Frink: "Maybe she'll cut her hair off in a fit of anger." Me: "God, I hope not. I don't need any of that second-season Felicity grief." Although I'd love it if they'd move the show to Sunday nights, because having to write the recaplet on Friday night or Saturday morning really cramps a person's weekend style. Someone steps over Joan and stands beside her. Joan assumes it's Adam, but unless Adam has got really skinny legs and a heretofore unrevealed transvestite side, it ain't Adam. Joan starts blathering about unified field theory, when a familiar young voice says, "All magnetic fields are the same." It's Little Girl God! Joan turns over wearily and lies on her back, hands on her face. Little Girl God, holding a mottled blue ball that subtly suggests our planet, continues, "All carbon atoms are the same. As are all protons, electrons, and neutrons." I look at Frink to see if that's correct. Hey, what do you want from me? There was nobody in my high school I liked enough to suffer through years of science for. I didn't meet Frink until I was almost thirty. She concludes, "It didn't have to be that way, but it makes the universe beautiful." I know who's dressing Joan now: it's Little Girl God, who's wearing a T-shirt in various shades of pink with a mottled tangerine skirt and orange-and-pink striped socks with dark pink shoes. Steer clear of the Fug Blog, kid. Jessica and Heather ain't scared of nobody. Frink: "Doesn't she always wear those dealie-bobbers?" He means the googly-eye antennae. I explain that those are optional. Little Girl God asks, "Who would care about the universe being beautiful, except for a divine, benevolent entity?" She adjusts her glasses. "Such as myself." Joan: "You -- heh heh -- are not here." Little Girl God says Joan's talking to herself, then. Joan states that she's waiting for Adam. She tells Joan Adam got paged to go to work. Joan's cell phone rings. Little Girl God: "That's him calling to tell you." Who needs Call Display when you've got Call Deity? Joan flips open her phone and stares at it. Little Girl God: "Aren't you going to answer it?" Joan: "This is not happening." Little Girl God tells her, "Mystery is just part of the deal, Joan." Sometimes it's even the best part. Joan: "Great! I'm going to close my eyes and count to ten." Little Girl God: "Good luck with that." Joan begins, but by the count of three, she's opening one eye to see if God's still there. She sighs and complains, "You are not real!" Little Girl God: "So people keep telling me." Joan stomps off as Little Girl God twirls her shiny blue ball and Avril Lavigne sings "Take Me Away." "All the pain / I thought I knew / All the thoughts lead back to you / Back to what / Was never said / Back and forth / Inside my head / I can't handle this confusion / I'm unable come and take me away"

The Girardis are having a very glum evening meal in their dining room. Kevin, who seems to be the only person not excessively burdened with any worries, watches his family eating in silence and apathy. He puts his cutlery down noisily and announces, "OkayI can't keep this to myself any longer: there are gonna be speed bumps installed on Peach Street. Two, possibly three. A lot more than my job is at jeopardy if this gets leaked." He manages to get small smiles from his father and mother. He asks who's . Will claims it's the usual: "Servingprotecting" He tosses the conversational ball to Helen, who claims she's just busy with back to school stuff. She asks about his thing. He says, "Fine. Joan?" Joan: "I don't have a thing. Luke is the one with the thing." Luke denies having a thing. Joan flings her fork onto the plate and asks, "Is this about me being crazy?" No one speaks. "Because I'm not crazy, and if everybody still feels like I am crazy, then maybe you should just send me back to Gentle Acres instead of tiptoeing around like I'm having visions from God or something, because I'm not." Will says no one's saying that. Her mother reassures her that she was never crazy: "Gentle Acres was a part of your physical therapy, a chance to rest and recover." Joan's about to break out in tears, and she asks, "May I be excused? I need to go to my normal room and do normal homework." She runs up the stairs.

Helen's doing the dishes later while Luke clears the table. He offers to do the dishes, but she claims it's relaxing. Noticing that he seems pensive, she asks if he's okay. Luke starts pacing around the kitchen island and says, "Look, I'll just say it: are you an alcoholic?" Helen: "What?" Luke continues: "At first I thought it was drugs, that you were buying them, because, you know, that's what people do, outside of coffee shops. But then I thought, 'No, get a grip. Who else meets in coffee shops? Twelve-steppers.'" Helen seems peeved to have been spied on (but also mildly relieved that Luke is completely on the wrong track). Luke informs her that if that's what's up, he's cool with it and totally supportive. Helen: "Luke, one breakdown a year is all we can handle. You'll have to wait." Luke says he saw her. Helen asks if he was following her. He claims he was on the way to school. Helen says Mocha Mike's is not en route to school. Luke claims he went for a doughnut. Helen: "Okay, here's the deal: You do not get to worry about my personal life, and I get to grill the hell out of you about yours." That's enough for Luke, who decides it's a good time to get out of there.

Will comes in asking, "What was that?" Helen replies, "All of our children are insane." Will: "Okay" He's going back to the station to do paperwork. Helen asks if he's okay; he claims he is.

Joan's in her room working on yet another fugly lamp, this one with fuzzy dice hanging from the mottled green shade. Frink: "'God does not play dice with the universe.'" There's banging at the window; I assume it must be Adam. Joan approaches the window slowly, having picked up her lamp as a weapon. That's probably only going to work if the intruder has good taste. She opens the window to find Grace clinging to a pipe outside. That girl can shinny, man. Isn't this kinda Joey Potter? Maybe it's a portent of Grace and Joan's ultimate soulmatehood. Will Joan have to develop a fivehead? Stay tuned. As Grace clambers in the window, Joan chides her, "Grace, seriously: phone, internet, doorbell." Grace manages to struggle into the room, growling, "I do things my way." She regards the crafty lamp-making mess all over Joan's room and asks what's going on. Joan explains. Grace: "I liked you better before." Joan: "Join the club." Grace moves a large lampshade off Joan's chair and sits down: "Quick question: Are you in love with Rove?" Joan guesses she is. Grace: "Well, how do you know for sure, though?" Joan: "I just said, 'I guess.'" Grace: "Well, how do you know it's not just part of the wholepsychic flameout? Because it feels kinda like a breakdown." Joan thinks and then smiles. She circles a pointing finger at Grace and asks, "Waitare you in love?" Only the way she says it, I should probably spell it "luv." Grace: "No. We're talking about you." Joan: "No. No. No, it really feels like we're talking about you right now." Mortified and trapped, Grace puts the lampshade on her head: "We're not." But she's not very convincing. Joan: "Grace, if there's a guy" She considers this, and adds, "Ornot a guyanybody I think I should know." Under the lampshade, Grace throws her head back in exasperation. She then removes the lampshade and makes for the window, saying, "I asked a simple question. Forget it." As she pulls up her hood and climbs out, she warns Joan, "I was never here." I loved this scene. These two are great together.

In his room, Luke reads over the two-page Confidentiality Agreement. We burst out laughing. How much would I love to read the text of that?

Kevin lies on his bed, reading the brochure about adaptive golf.

Will sits at his desk in the dark police station, writing -- most likely, his recollections of the night of the accident.

A night table drawer is opened, and Helen draws a rosary out of an amber-coloured glass dish. She lies alone in bed, fingering the rosary and reflecting.

Morning, and an outside shot of the Girardi house. Frink, unprompted: "That is such a great house." What can I say? I married well. Will emerges, favourite coffee mug (the one with the picture of the kids) in hand, to pick up the newspaper out by the curb. He slips into a memory, from the day of the accident. He turns and sees Kevin and Andy (portrayed by Riley Smith of Kocaine Kyle and Todd Schellinger fame) playing basketball in the driveway. Will's arrived home from work to find that Kevin hasn't cleaned out the garage as asked. He starts chewing him out. Andy says they did a little. Will reminds him they were supposed to finish, and that it was a condition of Kevin going to the game tonight. Kevin scoffs, "Dad, it's homecoming. You're really going to stop me from going?" Will: "You bet your ass. You think you get a free ride around here?" Kevin tells him to "stop with the cop voice," and starts to throw the ball again. Will grabs the ball and says, "Look, you're not the celebrity jock in this house. In this house, you pull your weight. Now get on that garage before I really get mad." He tosses the ball to Andy, who says he'll help Kevin and they'll get it done. Kevin throws a glare over his shoulder as they walk away.

Will comes back to the present moment when Kevin calls his name. He turns to see Kevin in his wheelchair on the porch. He's interested in seeing the paper: "'Cause my speed bump expos is in there!" Kevin sits there smiling -- oblivious -- as Will looks at him with the heaviest of hearts.

Sammy strides up to Joan at work and holds up a copy of Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. That's something I've wanted to read for ages. I must get around to it. He wants to know why Joan put it in the science fiction section. Sammy: "Invisible Man, one of the greatest postwar literary novels, sitting in science fiction, to The Time Machine. Are you crazy?" Boy, it is just one nonstop sensitivity parade in Joan's neighbourhood, isn't it? ["Plus, it's not so crazy that Ben Covington didn't make exactly the same mistake confusing H.G. Wells and Ellison on Felicity." -- Sars] Joan says it's about an invisible man. Sammy: "Metaphor, Joan? Symbolism? Where's your brain? Did you ever have one?" Joan, not nearly as pissed with all this as I would be, asks if he's okay. He says he's having a little stress at home, and she's not helping. Mrs. LandingGod has entered the store again and gives the bell on the counter a firm ding. Sammy turns: "You again." She says she's looking for a book for her book club: One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Joan wanders away to hide while Sammy tells her he doesn't have the book in stock, but can order it.

As Mrs. LandingGod is remarking on the loveliness of that possibility, someone else comes in: a tall, distraught-looking redhead with a sort of Sissy Spacek air to her -- if Sissy Spacek were, you know, six feet tall. Sammy looks alarmed: "Heidi, what are you doing here?" His wife enters with a shoebox in her arms, saying she wanted to show him something. You just know this isn't good. She's wearing a bathrobe and pyjamas. He asks her why she couldn't get dressed; she insists that she is in fact dressed. He suggests she wait in the back room. Heidi gestures to the box, saying, "I have to show you what you made me do." Joan hangs near the corner of a bookcase, looking nervous. Sammy asks Mrs. LandingGod to give him a moment, which she's glad to do. Heidi paces around a table of books and says in an emotional voice, "You were always so jealous of me and Lucinda. You thought she was getting in the way of our relationship, just because we had such a -- a -- a special connection!" Sammy says he's not jealous of Lucinda: "It's just that she's a rabbit!" Heidi: "She's a rabbit, is she? Just a rabbit. Well, guess what? She's not a rabbit anymore!" She opens the box and dumps the furry white corpse onto the table. Joan covers her mouth in horror. Mrs. LandingGod watches with compassion. Heidi: "Are you happy now?" She sobs and crouches to the table. Joan is freaking and doesn't know what to do. Sammy remains fairly composed, saying in an even voice: "Okay, umyou know what? We're closed." He gestures to Joan, who runs past Heidi. He hustles her and Mrs. LandingGod out and locks the door. Joan looks at her, and Mrs. LandingGod gives her a look that I can only interpret as, "Do you see what 'crazy' really is?" She walks off. Joan stares through the door as we hear Heidi ask, "Is it all better now, Sammy? Did I fix the problem? Now I can give you my complete attention! Lucinda doesn't talk anymore! She understood me, but now she's gone, and I'm all yours! Are you listening? I'm all yours!" Joan stands at the door, helpless and transfixed.

Kevin is wheeling through a sporting goods store with Luke. Wouldn't it be funny if they got Joe Flaherty to play the owner of the store? I would love that. I actually saw Joe Flaherty this summer in the Eaton Centre and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him as Harold Weir, but I was too shy. I hate bothering celebrities in settings where they're just living their lives and not performing or making a public appearance. I value my privacy and personal space so much, I can only imagine how much more precious it is to them. Anyway, Kevin's rambling on about how he can't stand to see their dad pouting. "So I'll strap myself to a buggy and swing a club. A little humiliation never killed anybody." Luke: "Is there hard evidence of that?" Kevin: "Who is she?" Luke: "What?" He picks up a club and ventures onto one of those little practice islands as Kevin enumerates the evidence: "Sneaking out of the house, excessive aftershave, listening to Norah Jones. Now a bitter reference to humiliation." Excessive aftershave? I'd think Grace would have put the kibosh on that pretty quick. Luke claims there's no girl. Kevin: "It's Grace, isn't it?" Luke misses his shot. He tells Kevin, "You cannot tell anyone." Kevin smirks: "Why?" Luke explains about the secrecy thing, and admits to having signed a contract. Kevin: "Dude!" Luke claims he had no choice. Kevin: "You want this relationship so much, you're willing to completely degrade yourself?" Luke considers this: "Wellyeah. It's not so much a relationship as it is occasional making out." Kevin: "How occasional?" Luke: "Five minutes a day." Kevin laughs: "Dude" Luke: "Minimum! I can't help it, man. She makes me insane! I'm a complete stranger to myself!" Kevin dishes up some brotherly advice: "You gotta confront this. She wants you, or she wouldn't be in it." Well, he's got that much right. "And no matter what they say, women want us to be men. They don't like it when we back down. It makes themnervous." Whatev, Kev. Luke, ever skeptical: "Really." Kevin: "She's waiting for you to stand up. Do it! You're a Girardi man. Let her know what that's about." Luke looks really doubtful. Between Friedman and Kevin, he's really got "bad advice" covered.

Helen comes to the station -- the very, very, very blue station -- wearing a bright red coat that sticks out so much that I can't stop thinking about it. When did I start recapping Schindler's List? It looks like someone started to colorize an old film and got called away for a meeting. In the middle of a busy room full of people, Will asks her what's wrong. Helen blurts out: "Nothing. I'm seeing a nun and a priest!" Will guides her into his office as Helen says she hates lying to him. She confesses that ever since Joan was sick, she's been thinking about God and contemplating going back to the Church: "I was just gonna not bother you with it, but it feels more like lying, and that feels like being disconnected from you, and that feels like hell, so I'm telling you now." Will replies calmly, "I'm really not open to this right now." Helen knows, and admits he never has been. But she promises he'll hardly know about it. Will: "I can't not know what's happening, Helen, and I reallycan't take it right now. Look, I've never been more certain in my life that we're all just at the mercy of an indifferent universe. There is no God, there is no justice, there is no grand place we're gonna eventually get to. It's just one body blow after another and struggling to find a reason to get up and do it again." Wow. Well, that's one perspective. It's not mine, but I definitely understand the feeling. Helen, quietly: "What happened?" Will insists that nothing happened: "This is who I've always been." He says he has to get back to work, and walks out. Helen is quite bewildered. I love this subplot, and I can't wait to see where it goes.