Independence Day

The misfit posse (minus Friedman, but plus a barnacle in the form of Stevie) walks through the halls talking about some upcoming concert. Adam says it doesn't matter if they're late because there are so many groups playing. Joan explains why they have tickets when there aren't any left, which is something to do with Adam's boss's friend. Grace says irritably -- not that I blame her -- that she's heard about that twice already. Stevie says something so idiotic that I can hardly believe it: "And I saw his boss give him the tickets at work, so I kinda feel like a part of this, too." First of all, how pathetic. I doubt even the most desperate loser teenager would say something like that. Second, by that logic, I can take part of the credit for the moon landing. I mean, maybe I was only four years old, but my father made me watch it, so it's kind of like I worked at NASA. Whatever. Third, shut up, Stevie. I'm so sick of the way so many characters on this show are introduced in a way that tries to force us to care about them when we don't, and can't. And then when they do introduce a character we might care about -- Casper, anybody? -- they're gone inside of one episode. So, in conclusion: Shut the hell up, Stevie.

Luke inquires, "Uh, just to clarify: isn't the concert in Huntington?" It's over a hundred miles away. Joan thinks Luke is worried about them making it there in time. Adam says they can use his dad's pickup truck and sleep in the camper shell: "Lots of people spend the night at these things. We'll just drive back in the morning." Joan nods: "Simple." Luke has an incredulous look on his face, like he can't believe he's related to someone with the density of iridium. Luke: "Yeah, you are. Didja forget you have parents? There's no way they're going to say yes to this." Joan thinks it's a lot safer than driving back for three hours after the concert. Joan insists they'll be fine with it: "I mean, why wouldn't they?" Joan glances back at Luke, who just gives her a "God, you are deluded" look. Joan says she'll ask Helen first. There are a bunch of annoying cheerleaders practicing cheers in the hallway. Could they do that in the gym, maybe? Stevie opens her yap: "Definitely. Because moms always understand things like this." Grace: "Are you a Muppet?" Hee! More and more I want this show to become Grace of Arcadia. She and Lilly are the most interesting characters on the show to me. On first viewing, I thought Grace was reacting to Stevie, but having watched it several times now, it seems clear she's talking to Joan. Which is funnier, actually. Luke strongly advises her to reconsider. Joan: "Garage festival, with a boyfriendout of my hands." She asks Adam to wish her luck. Before he can, Stevie bounces up and down and simpers, "Good luck." Adam and Joan quickly kiss and part, and Stevie sighs, "Don't they just make your heart melt?" Honestly? Anymore, not so much. She glances off in the direction Adam went, but since that was sort of in the direction of the viewer, the effect of this is that it seems like she's talking directly to the camera, which is most unfortunate. Then she bats her eyes briefly. Grace: "There is no irony at all with you, is there?" Stevie doesn't answer because she's noticed Friedman coming down the hall: "Oh, God." She starts fussing with her lank pile of hair as she watches Friedman approach. He's slapped upside the head by some passing jock. Stevie: "He is so hot." This girl needs more help than I can say. She tells Luke and Grace, "Work with me."

After the commercials, Joan comes down the kitchen stairs. From her obvious mood I'm guessing it's the very morning. She walks through the kitchen, ignoring everyone. Helen says, "I made French toasthoney." Joan says she's late and has to go. Helen, softly: "Joan" Joan wonders if Helen's going to tell her she has to eat breakfast, too. Helen says she understands Joan's upset. Joan: "No, Mom, you don't understand. You still think I'm just a little girl." Helen: "No one is saying that." I think Will would, if you gave him half a chance. Joan: "You wanted me to get my act together in school, I got my act together. I'm taking responsibility for my grades, applying for collegesI have a job, and a nice boyfriend, but you still just want me to stay home and make cupcakes. You know what, Mom? Those days are over. That's what you don't understand." She walks out, leaving Helen to chew on that.

Joan's walking downtown, past some street character running a three card monte game. It's God, of course. Who else? With the exception of Johnny Broadway, most of the Gods are just instantly obvious this year. As Joan passes, he invites her to play. Joan: "It's a trick." Three Card Monte God: "You think I'd deceive you, Joan? What kind of God would I be if I played tricks on my peoples?" Uh, Loki? Vishnu? Hermes? Michabo? Maui? Coyote? Mimi? Anansi Anansi? Raven? I could go on. I'm just saying. Joan comes back to his table and says he told her she can make her own decisions. Three Card Monte God: "You can. Free will is standard equipment." Joan: "Not according to my mother!" Three Card Monte God: "Well, your mom has been in the game a lot longer than you. She knows how difficult it is to play." Joan: "But it's my hand, right? I mean, I have to play it myself." He agrees there's no other way: "But you gotta keep your eyes open, so you can see all the moves." I think this guy is related to Smoove G; they've got the same patter. Joan says she can handle it. Three Card Monte God starts shuffling the cards. Joan hesitates before picking a card. Three Card Monte God is totally fine, by the way. Bring him back anytime. He's played by will.i.am, from the Black Eyed Peas. One of their songs is also in this episode. She picks the four of diamonds. He shows her the Queen of Spades in the middle, which is where her hand went first: "Also keep your eye on what's important." She sighs, irritated, and walks away.

Friedman and Luke are standing in the hallway, making sounds like they're a rap song, or something. Stevie buzzes up in an ugly plaid jacket and asks if Friedman got her message last night. Now I'm curious all of a sudden about Friedman's home life. I wonder what his parents are like. I'm fairly convinced he's an only child. I mean, after Friedman, wouldn't you have learned your lesson about having children? Friedman got the message but makes some feeble excuse about page 280. Luke helps out: "You said you were playing online chess with that guy in Tehran." I'll just bet that's doing wonders for international relations. Friedman: "I know. And then, uh, some other stuffcame up." Stevie shrugs and says she needed help with Spanish: "But I watched Telemundo." Friedman makes a little fist and says, "It's bueno." She agrees, and leaves. Friedman turns to give Luke a puzzled look, but before he can say anything, Stevie bounces back in front of him and says, "So I'll see you Sunday, I guess?" Friedman nods. She takes off, and he walks in the other direction.

Luke chases him: "Are you out of your mind?" Friedman: "What?" Luke: "This totally hot girl is doing everything but immolating herself for you!" You know, nothing against Haylie Duff, but I wish they'd stop having the characters tell us how bloody perky and totally hot she is. I find her to be neither. Luke continues, "Friedman, the odds of that happening again can only be calculated by a mainframe!" Friedman says she's not his type. Luke: "Friedman, you don't have a 'type.' You have magazines." Hee! Luke shares his theory, which is that Friedman is freaking because he's used to being the hunter and not the hunted: "You think she's either setting you up, or there's something wrong with her." Or, you know, maybe he's not totally over Judith, who hasn't been dead all that long. Anyone remember Judith? The one he memorized all of Hamlet for? The one they wedged into the show, made us care about and then killed off? And then never mentioned again? Friedman: "Thank you, Dr. Freud." Luke begs him to consider the other possible explanation for her interest. Friedman: "What?" Luke: "Dude, don't -- don't make me go there." Friedman: "What? What?" Luke: "You're in Junior Mensa. Think." Friedman thinks. He says, "I got nothin'." Luke rolls his eyes, and says, "You're a great guy. You have a lot more going on than people think. You're sensitive and caring and, some might say, appealing." He says the last part so quietly that Friedman says, "What?" Luke says loudly, "Appealing, dude! You're very appealing!" Of course, the entire hallway full of students falls silent and stares, because their homophobia is just that deep and finely tuned. And because they have nothing better to do, and that is just how things are done at Arcadia High School. So they all stand quietly and stare for about a thousand years, and Luke says, "So, dude, let's go shoot some hoops." He punches him on the shoulder. Friedman: "What?" Luke: "Hoops, dude." He punches Friedman again. Friedman punches him back and makes a "what gives?" gesture. They take off.

Police storyline. Pointless murder, whatever. At least the scene is mercifully brief.

Joan comes down into the kitchen where Helen is working at the table. Joan remarks, "That looks like a fun Saturday." Helen says she's grading stuff: "You want a ride over to Grace's?" Oh, please. Am I really supposed to believe Helen bought that story? Yeah, it's not suspicious at all that Joan's staying over at Grace's house on the very night she wanted to go to the concert. Whatever. I wish my parents had been this dimwitted. Anyway, Joan says it's such a nice day that she'll walk: "I mean, if I'm allowed to." Helen: "Look, I know it's difficult" Joan: "Mom, it'scool." Helen: "It's not." Joan says there's nothing to talk about: "Grace and I are going to pig out on nachos and watch Donnie Darko so she can try to explain it to me again. End of story. Anything else?" Helen tells her to have a nice time. Joan says she'll see her tomorrow. Helen sits there brooding. How can she be so clueless?

Adam and Joan clamber into his father's truck. Adam: "Ready?" Joan: "Yeah." They kiss briefly and Adam dons his sunglasses before taking off. Joan looks slightly nervous.

After the commercial, everyone's emerging from the concert venue. Joan comes out exulting, "I actually moshed! Me!" Adam agrees it was incredible. Joan says she's hoarse from all the screaming: "I'm gonna have to tell my mom I got a cold or something." Adam: "Your mom?" Adam's just finding out now that Joan lied to come along. I don't really find it believable that she wouldn't have said something before this. It's not like it's their first date, or Adam doesn't know what her parents are like. Joan goes on about how she had to lie because her mother doesn't trust her: "This is her problem. I mean, can you imagine if we'd missed this?" Adam wonders where Helen thinks Joan is. Joan tells him. Adam looks weary. Joan insists Helen will never find out: "Grace is cool. You're upset" Adam says he's not, and confesses he told his dad he was working all night. Aw. It's just like "The Gift of the Magi." Except not. They laugh about that. He told his father he needed the truck to haul some equipment: "He was getting nervous about us sleeping in the parking lot, and I couldn't make him understand, so" Joan giggles some more and leans over to kiss Adam.

Some guy starts yelling about festival t-shirts (and some damn ugly shirts they are, too; a bad design on a light blue shirt) and Joan walks over to ask how much they are. Good idea. Maybe Helen will find the t-shirt. Frink: "Probably, since Joan's not allowed to do laundry." They are a shocking thirty bucks, considering I could design a better shirt in my sleep. Joan: "Thirty bucks? You guys are thieves." Adam's just conveniently disappeared, which is good, considering we're about to find out this guy is God: "You want something to remember tonight, don't you, Joan?" She does, and requests the "disciple's discount." T-Shirt God throws in a sticker for free. Joan hands over her money: "If this is about me lying to my mom, I'm sorryreallybutif I'm making my own decisions, I had to do it." T-Shirt God agrees, "You gotta do what you gotta do." Joan says she's sorry if she upset her, but she's seventeen: "You know, that's half of areally old person." Thirty-five-year-old Professor Frink: "Ow." Tell me about it. T-Shirt God says, "Separating is never easy." Joan says Helen has to accept her independence: "That's how you made us, right?" T-Shirt God: "Just remember: being independent doesn't mean being alone." He goes back to hawking T-shirts.

Kevin wheels into a half-dark gym where Andy's playing basketball. He confronts him about the fact that he never called about the courier job. Andy claims he was going to, but got busy. Yeah, I can see how shooting hoops would take uppretty much your whole day. Kevin asks, "Doing what?" Andy says he was "settling in." Settling in? He's been living at the Y for what, five weeks now? How much more settling in is there to do? He says it's weird being in a new place. Kevin just stares skeptically. Andy tries a different feeble approach: "Look, Kev, I appreciate the help, I do, but the job sounded like a drag. You know, you're being ordered by some secretary half the time on some power trip" Kevin: "So? It's a start. You need money, right? All you had to do was drive around --" Andy bounces the ball angrily and says, "I know what I had to do! Okay? I know." Kevin asks what is going on with him. Andy crouches down and then looks up at Kevin, finally admitting, "I can't drive." Kevin doesn't understand; he thinks they took his license away. Which they damn well should have, but apparently people regard driving as such a sacrosanct right that even when you drive drunk and permanently cripple someone, it's not a big enough deal to remove that right. Andy says that's not it: "No. But I haven't driven since the accident. I mean, I've tried, I have, but every time I get behind the wheel and I try to turn the key, I can't. I just keep seeing your face." Kevin shakes his head slightly: "It's okay." Andy disagrees. He twirls the ball idly on the floor and the scene ends in silence.

Will and Helen are walking up the stairs to bed. He's telling her about the case he's working on. This segues into an irrational comment about her conflict with Joan. As Will removes half a dozen pillows from the bed (Frink: "She has time to make the bed like that?"), he says, "This isn't the first fight you've had, Helen." She says this is different: "This time, when she left for Grace's, I tried to talk to her but she just brushed me off. Like she didn't care. Like I didn't matter anymore." Will says she'll get over it. Helen: "There's a time when a girl has to take a step away from her mother. She took that step today. I just don't want her to keep on walking." Will insists that won't happen: "You two are part of each other." Helen says her mother didn't listen to or understand her: "I barely spoke to her for over a year." Will: "You got over it." Helen: "Not really. Sure, I'd go visit a couple of times a year. But it was polite, and strained, and I couldn't wait to leave. I swore I'd never be like her." Will says she isn't. Helen: "Well, I said'because I said so.' What's : 'This is my house' or 'Because I'm you're mother'?" Will: "Wonderful phrases, all." Helen promised herself she would never say those things. So join the long line of women who made the same promise until they became mothers. Will: "The only thing we know about being parents is that every day we're thrown something new, something we're not ready for. You can always second-guess yourself. You were protecting her." Helen snuggles against Will: "We were like strangers, Will."

The camera drifts along the blankets on the Girardis' bed and over to the ones Joan and Adam are making out under. I think this is the first time we've actually seen them horizontal, isn't it? I mean, while they're making out. Anyway, Adam kisses her neck, and his left hand is holding her around her rib cage. Somehow from this, Joan deduces his move -- I mean, they've been going out for a year, and has he ever even touched her boob? -- and says, "AdamAdam, no." This is because -- as you well know -- there are only two sexual activities: kissing, and vaginal intercourse. Kissing leads directly to vaginal intercourseand out-of-wedlock pregnancy, scary disfiguring diseases, and insanity. Anything else you may think you know about sexual activity is just a figment of your sick, depraved imagination, and probably the result of spending too much unsupervised time on the internet. Honestly. Why is TV so Victorian about this stuff? ["Michael Powell." -- Sars] Adam whispers, "It's okay," and kisses her on the mouth. She pulls away and sits up: "I justI just don't know." He says softly, "Hey, come on." He kisses her neck some more. Joan: "I didn't expect this now." You lied to your parents so you could stay overnight in a camper with your boyfriend of one year -- with whom the subject has come up before, very early on, at your behest -- and you"didn't expect this now"? Even after everyone around you tried to pound into your head why your parents might be opposed, and even after your parents made the nature of their opposition perfectly clear? It's just never crossed your mind that Adam might be thinking along a different track? Okay. Whatever you say, Gidget. Adam: "Sort of the perfect opportunity, isn't it?" He smiles. Joan: "I don't know. May -- maybe. I mean, you really want to?" That comment may surpass even her laundry episode in dumbosity. Didn't I already live through this on ? David: "You don't? I mean, you seemed like you did." Donna says nothing; she just looks like a scared rabbit. David says he brought protection. Donna clears her throat: "Well, we've talked about this, David. I -- we weren't ready." He points out that was, like, a year ago: "I mean, we've been going out for a long time nowit's sort of the step, don't you think? I mean, I love you, Donna." She says she loves him, too. They kiss, and lie back down.

David slides his hand gracefully down Donna's torso and when he gets close to You Know What, she sits up again: "We're in a truck." She's breathing hard. "I don't want my first time to be in a truck." No, it's gonna have to be a big antique four-poster bed strewn with pink and red rose petals, attended by little white lambies frolicking around the room and cherubs playing Pachelbel's Canon on violins. Better forget about being an artist and become a lawyer or an orthodontist, because among things, the girl's class issues aren't going away. ["And not to be crass, but at her age, it was a two-door Accord or go without. I would have given an eyetooth for a nice roomy camper." -- Sars] David, still lying down, and growing a little impatient, looks around and says, "It's a camper." Donna: "I'm sorry." David: "Fine." He adjusts his head on the pillow a little crossly. Donna chews her thumb and looks at him: "You're mad." Frink: "'No, I'm hap-hap-happy.'" He says if she doesn't want to, they won't. Donna: "It's not that I don't want to. It's that this is a really big deal and I want you to understand that." He says he does: "It's okay. We should probably go to sleep now." She slowly lies down to him and says she's sorry, and kisses him on the cheek: "I love you." He doesn't say anything; his eyes stay closed. Then he turns over so his back is to her. Donna lies there wondering if he's going to dump her now as the camera fades out through the top of the camper. The music for this scene is a song by David Loring called "Too High." Maybe Joan should buy some of these.

Joan arrives home the morning to find her mother working at the kitchen table again. There are two plates full of pink cupcakes on the island behind her. She comments that Joan's home early. Joan says Grace wanted to go to some "protest thing." Helen asks if she had a good time: "I mean, I'm not prying, I just" Joan says it's okay, but notices the cupcakes before she can say anymore, and falls silent. The cupcakes have pretty artsy-looking frosting jobs, but I guess that's what you'd expect from Helen. Joan says quietly, "You made the cupcakes." Helen turns around: "WellI figured everyone else would want them. I thought that's what you wanted." Joan, in a small voice: "Right." Helen asks if she's okay. Joan says she's great. Helen doesn't know what to say, especially that won't make things worse, so she turns back to her reading. We get a shot of Helen and Joan through the windows along the hall to the kitchen door, divided by a thick pane. Joan walks out.

Joan's walking along the street when she sees Mrs. LandingGod (dressed in an outfit so mismatched and nutty it would definitely earn her some Fug Blog reproach) feeding some birds. Joan: "God feeds pigeons?" Mrs. LandingGod doesn't respond. Joan: "Aren't there enough actual old people to do that?" Heh. Mrs. LandingGod replies, "You'd think, wouldn't you?" Joan tries to warm her bare hands (look into mittens, girlie) and says, "You said independence doesn't mean being alone. I can't talk to my mom, I can't talk to Adam. So now I have nobody." This, she says to God. How does she even ambulate with myopia this severe? She blathers on: "I should just get one of those depressing motel rooms and learn how to smoke." Maybe you and Andy could just hang together. Mrs. LandingGod tells her she's only as isolated as she thinks she is: "Not being able to reach out is just another decision you're making." Joan complains she's made a mess of everything: "There's nothing I can say to make things right." Mrs. LandingGod: "Falling into silence just makes it impossible to survive. Your existence depends on the relationships you have with other people, Joan. Just as matter can't exist in the absence of energy. See, it's how I made the world." Joan: "So just decide not to be alone?" Mrs. LandingGod nods. Joan looks dubious: "You saw me and my mom. It's like we'reliving in two different worlds." Mrs. LandingGod then relates the myth of Demeter and Persephone, saying: "The distance you feel, that cold isolationyou don't have to live there forever." Joan: "So you gonna take pity on me too, and make things right?" Mrs. LandingGod: "It's a myth, Joan." Joan asks what to do. She tells her, "That's your decision," and hands her the bag of birdseed and walks off. No Godwave.

Luke puts out a plate of snacks for the study session in his bedroom. Stevie: "Ooh! Guacamole. My favourite." Grace: "Oh. I didn't know they had avocados in Middle Earth." Ha! Someone -- I think it's Luke -- turns on some tinny, whistly Latin music. Friedman, lying on the bed, looks vaguely disturbed and then says, "Okay, amigos: imperfect subjunctive." Luke interrupts: "Hang on" as he fires up a blender full of something chartreuse. "Before we justdive in, how about a little" He takes a sniff from the blender jar. "Margarita de virgen?" Friedman: "Dude, did we just die and wake up in the seventies here?" Hee. But to judge by Friedman's shirt and hairthe answer is yes. Grace: "Seriously, dude. And what is with this music?" Luke: "It's all about atmosphere." Friedman slaps his book closed: "Okay, that's enough. I can see what you two are trying to do here." Luke feigns innocence: "It's just a little estudia de Domingo." Friedman leans toward Stevie and says, "The thing isthese guys, they don't want me to be aloneso they're trying to, uhyou know, they're trying to get you and me here to" Stevie just stares at him. He continues, "You're a really, really great girl. You're quite, you know --" He clears his throat: "beautiful, and" Stevie: "You say 'you know' a lot." Friedman: "And observant. But the thing is that sometimes two organisms don't share enough common traits, so that superficially, a pairing can seem congruent yet still lack some very fundamental synchronicity" Stevie smirks and grabs Friedman and kisses him. Grace looks surprised. Stevie sits on the bed to him and says, "I justlove hearing you talk." Good grief. Someone rustle up Glynis. This girl is so not worthy of Friedman. For all his faults, he's at least book smart and needs someone who can hold her own on that front, instead of this simpering fool. Grace taps Luke: "Okaywhat's bean dip without cheese?" She hustles Luke out before she has to witness Friedman and Stevie making out, thereby requiring her to gouge out her own eyes.

Friedman exhales sharply and clears his throat: "And at other times, common traits can appear where none were thought to exist." Stevie cocks her shoulder and says, "Bueno." They sink down on the bed. Friedman: "Muy, muy!" Yeah, "yo quiero Taco Bell" to you too. If this is "Spanglish," include me out.

Joan's sitting out on the curb in front of her house. Andy comes walking along with his backpack and notices her as he's heading for their house: "Joan?" He kind of gestures, as if to ask, why the hell are you sitting in the gutter? Joan: "What? I like the curb." Suddenly I'm reminded of that Oscar Wilde quotation: "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." Joan should try that. She adds, "You know, the trickling sewage" He sits down to her, and it must be wet, because it looks like it's rained pretty recently. She notes his backpack and wonders if he's going camp. He says he's taking off. He wanted to leave a letter for Kevin. Joan takes it, asking, "He doesn't know you're leaving?" Andy says he's doing that Scared Sober thing at the courthouse. She asks where he's going. He doesn't know yet: "I just need to get away." Joan: "Well, you can't just take off. I mean, Kevin'll help you find a job." Andy says that's not going to happen, that he would just mess up and screw up Kevin's life again. Joan points out he doesn't even know where he's going, and asks where he's going to sleep. Andy: "It doesn't really matter." It will when you get rolled, buddy. Joan launches into parental mode: "Well, it will matter to Kevin. You're not working, you're running away. You're gonna end up on the streets." Andy: "Maybe people need to realize the fact that this is who I am, you know, this is the way my life's turning out." Joan shakes her head very slightly and says, "No. No, this is what you're deciding to do with your life. It's your decision to give up. It's your decision to turn your back on Kevinjust like it's mine tosit out here and never see the spring." Andy looks at her. Joan: "You know what? I'm not going to do that. We have to decide what's important. That's our decision." She tears Andy's letter into several pieces and hands it to him, saying, "I'm just helping you along." She gets up and walks away, and Andy lets the pieces fall into the stream of sewage. Shades of Grace's poem? "Me, I try to send this note / Float it like a paper boat / But paper sinks and words are weak / I try, but I don't speak." Remember those days? Good times.

The conclusion of the police plot. I can't even dignify this with a summary. If you couldn't see this coming two hundred miles away, you must be in a coma, and I hope you receive medical attention soon.

Kevin's speaking to the DUI teens, making some jokes about being in a wheelchair that most of them have the good grace not to find especially funny. Kevin mentions that they all know how he got in his chair, and Andy's voice says, "He's in there because of me." Everyone turns to look at him at the back of the room. Andy begins narrating the story, saying it was two years ago. Two, two and half, almost three, what's the difference? If this show can't decide when one of the central underpinning events occurred, why should I care? God, it makes me nuts. Andy walks toward the front of the room telling the story that is very familiar to us by now. He perches on the table to Kevin, describing how much he replays the scene in his mind and wishes he do everything over. He looks at Kevin as he says, "But it's real. And I can't change it. No matter how much I want to run from iteverything's different now." He's a little teary as Kevin nods and pats his shoulder. I imagine half the attendees are about ready to squirm out of their skin by now. Andy sniffles and says to Kevin, like there's no one else in the room, "You shouldn't be helping me, man." I think Andy needs to talk to Lilly about guilt and stuff. Kevin shakes his head and Andy puts his arm on Kevin's shoulder, too. They sit there patting each other's shoulders as Andy repeats, "You shouldn't be helping me." I think one guy is about to put up his hand and ask if he can just serve some time instead.

Helen comes home from grocery shopping to find Joan sitting at the table, toying with the plate of pink cupcakes. Helen tells her she can eat one if she wants. Joan: "Oh. Maybe in a minute. You've been out for a long time." Helen says she just went to the store for milk. Joan says, "Mom" Helen asks, "What is it?" Joan sighs as she says, "I lied." She confesses that she went to the concert and they slept in his truck. Helen takes that in: "Wow." Man, she's clueless. Joan: "I know." Helen: "And" Joan: "And it wastense. And weird. And I wanted to talk to you about it, but I couldn't." Helen says nothing. Joan turns her head toward Helen slightly, wondering where the onslaught is: "Why aren't you mad at me?" Helen sits down to her: "I will be. What happened?" Okay, she may be clueless, but she's pretty cool, too. Joan: "Well, he wanted tobut I didn't. I don't know why." Helen allows herself a subtle sigh. Joan: "I'm all confused." She laughs weakly. "It -- I -- I don't know what's right, I justI just know I feel like I've lost everyone." Helen smiles at her daughter: "You haven't lost me." Joan smiles back and then squinches her face up in tears, whispering: "I'm sorry." Helen: "Ohme toobutI'm glad you madeyour own decision with Adam." Yeah? Would you be all that glad she'd made her own decision if it went the other way? Some U2 song is playing. Don't ask me which one; not a fan. Joan says, "I missed you." They hug, and Helen smiles to herself. Joan: "Am I grounded?" Helen, over Joan's back: "Oh, yeah." Someone knocks at the door. Joan can see Adam on the porch through the kitchen window: "Ohhe's here." She wipes her eye. Helen: "Go talk to him." Joan: "What should I say?" Helen: "You'll know." Joan nods a little and then gets up and walks to the door. The camera lingers on Helen for a bit, sitting at the table smiling and snitching some frosting from a cupcake.

Joan lets Adam in and they stand there talking, but we don't hear what they say over Bono's caterwauling. "Sometimes you can't make it on your own"

Anyway, I'm taking the episode off because it occurs around my birthday, so Couch Baron will be your guest recapper. Enjoy!