Common Thread

As Sars's recaplet informed you, God smote me with technological difficulties for the second time this month, and therefore I am recapping this episode from a tape provided by Sars. I mention this only because I get to have the semi-fascinating experience of seeing the show as it's presented on American television, with CBS promos and American commercials and everything. Rest assured, I'm staying home this Friday night for the finale, hovering over two VCRs, and lighting novenas. Feel free to pray for me, or sacrifice virgins, or whatever your creed would have you do.

Joan and Grace are wandering listlessly through the school library, talking about their upcoming physics test. Joan's blithering about dimensions and begging Grace to come over and help her study. Why doesn't she just get her brainiac brother to help her? I strongly sense Luke can hardly the resist the opportunity to impart geek knowledge, not unlike someone else I could be sitting on the couch with. Grace grabs a book she thinks will help them and they head for a table, only to notice Adam's in the library. They stop short as Grace asks if this is going to be weird. Joan, trying to act blas�, claims they're fine: "People break up all the time and they stay friends�" She sucks in a bunch of air. "Right?" She looks doubtful. Grace: "You are so not fine."

They walk over to their table and sit down. Adam approaches to tell them his boss just called him: "I think I'm getting a promotion." Grace: "Mazel tov, dude!" They glance at Joan, who says, "Cool. We were, um, kinda studying." He asks if it would be weird if he joined them, since this is the only opportunity he has to study. Grace looks at Joan, who keeps her eyes down. Adam: "It would�obviously. It's too soon for that." Well, yeah. Grace tells Joan they could study tonight. Joan reminds her she has to work. Joan grabs her stuff: "You know what? Forget it. I'm fine." She bails. Adam shrugs at Joan: "What's her problem?" What? Come on. It's bad enough that Adam was suddenly written to cheat on Joan with Bonnie�now we're supposed to believe he's so clueless and insensitive that he has no idea why she feels uncomfortable around him? Even if he thought, after they re-exchanged their stuff, that things were a little less ugly, it's not like he could possibly, all of a sudden, have no freaking idea what's eating her. ["Or that he'd be all dishy like he was written here. I should just let this go, probably; it's not like it's getting better." -- Sars] Grace's reaction is a little less incredulous and insulted than mine: "You're not seriously asking me that, are you, dude?" Adam just says, "Whatever," and walks off. Just then Luke swoops up behind Grace to share his happy news: the Sims II is coming out this afternoon. "Wanna help me install it?" Grace vents her annoyance on Luke: "You want a piece of me, too? I am one person, okay? Just one. Uno. So why don't you and everyone else just take care of themselves?" She marches off. Luke, mystified: "Virtual reality's looking good."

Walking home in the rain, Joan passes a young woman, sitting on a park bench under a spotted umbrellaand knitting. Should I take anything from the fact that it's often hard to distinguish God from a mental patient? Knitting God (played by Shelly Cole, Madeline Lynn of Gilmore Girls) is wearing a vest that looks crocheted but is apparently knitted, according to the sort of folks who know about these things and post about them online. She comments as Joan walks behind her: "Awesome pattern, don't you think, Joan?" As long as we're not talking about the one on your vest, which is riding the Retro 101 bus to Funky Station but got off two stops early at the corner of Vintage and Fugly. Joan: "God knits?" Knitting God: "It's a great way to centre yourself when you have to pass the time alone." And my question would be: "God has a lot of free time on her hands?" Joan: "Oh. Subtle reminder that I don't have a boyfriend anymore." She sits down on the wet bench. "Cute. So you want me to be spinster Joanknitting her way to the grave." Oy. So many times, despite the fact that God is talking to her, Joan can hardly see beyond the end of her own nose. In the first season she was all desperate for a boyfriend; I hope we're not returning to that. Also, get over yourself. You're seventeen, not seventy. Knitting God claims, "Knitting is the new yoga. Very meditative. I knitted this top." Joan's impressed: "No. That is seriously nice. But you're God. I could never do that." Both God and Joan are wearing striped knee socks. Knitting God: "You used to love knitting, remember? When you were eight and reading those Little House on the Prairie books?" When she says "Little House on the Prairie books" she stretches her mouth in this weird way as if to register mild aversion. Stow it, Knitting God. Joan says she tried to make a scarf (heh -- I guess it started early on) but she just made a knotty mess of it. I can certainly relate. In my early attempts at knitting, which mostly consisted of trying to knit things for my Barbie dolls, the tension kept getting tighter and tighter until I eventually couldn't move the yarn at all without breaking it. I am just wound too tight for anything like knitting. Knitting God tells her she can't put too much tension on the arm: "You have to relax, get into the groove." Joan: "I'd look like a total dork knitting. No offense." Not as much of a dork as you look like getting your ass soaked on this park bench. Knitting God cuts to the chase: "You have important work ahead of you. It requires focus and understanding." Joan: "What work?" Of course, just then, the bus comes along and Knitting God takes the opportunity to avoid the question, telling her, "Finish the scarf, Joan," as she boards the bus. Because if there is one thing Joan Girardi needs, it's another scarf. Joan: "But I don't even know where it is anymore!" The bus drives off.

On the first commercial break, I learn that American commercials for the Kia Sportage pronounced the car's name "sport-ej" whereas the Canadian ones go for "sport-azh." So are we pretentious, or are Americans oafs? I guess it doesn't have to be either/or.

It's a lovely sunny day all of a sudden. Joan's sitting on her porch struggling with her knitting. I say "'all of a sudden" because she's wearing the same dress but a different jacket than she was wearing the first scenes. She regards her hole-y work (hee) with dismay: "What ? I have to make my own car?" Suddenly Grace is standing before her, wondering aloud, "Do you need to be medicated?" Joan says she doesn't: "I'm just knitting. It's very hip right now, very meditative. Damn." Grace mutters, "Looks fun. I gotta try it sometimewhen I'm a hundred." She sits down to Joan: "Look, I came by to cut you in on something: I hate my life." Joan: "Why?" Grace: "Well, let's see: Iraq, corporate corruption, and you and Rove." She pronounces "Iraq" the way George Bush does: "eye-rack," except she doesn't emphasize the second syllable. No. Grace would know better. Joan says it's just awkward to be around Adam, and complains about Adam coming up and expecting her to be all excited about his big promotion: "What does he expect?" Grace reminds her, "I came to talk about me" Joan: "He's very needy. I know he's artistic and sensitive and everything, but you can use that to, you know, manipulate people. Just like he used you --" Grace gets up: "You know, I won't do this." Joan acts like she doesnt know what she's talking about. Grace: "I won't talk trash about Rove. We've been friends since the second grade." Joan: "I can't believe you're taking his side! He slept with Bonnie while he was still with me!" Grace: "I'm not taking anybody's side! Don't you get it? I don't want there to be sides! Maybe we should all break up!" She storms off. Joan rips out all her knitting.

Helen arrives at a coffee shop, looking for someone. A priest (played by Michael Badalucco, who will always be Jimmy to me) notices her and comes over to her: "Mrs. Girardi?" Good grief. Helen's two-timing Father Ken. Well, she was pretty pissed off with his refusal to dance to her tune in recent episodes. I guess it was inevitable. They shake hands as she says "Father Payne," and then giggles. She apologizes, saying she went to Catholic high school and that was what they called the principal. He suggests she call him "Father Dave." She comments that the principal's real name was Angelini and "he's probably still out there somewhere, whacking kids with the board of education." She apologizes for rambling, and says, "You said there was something we shouldn't discuss on the phone." Man. You call Helen up and claim to be a priest and she'll just run out and meet you? It would take a lot more than that to get me out of the house to meet some stranger. Father Payne (the name I'll use for its anvilicious value) mentions that he works at a hospice in Hamilton: "There's no easy way to say this: I'm here on behalf of Edmond Dodd." Helen wonders if she should know who that is. Father Payne pauses before explaining, "He's the man who assaulted you in 1980." Helen's expression hardens slightly as she says, "You mean the man who raped me." Father Payne agrees: "Edmond has advanced pancreatic cancer. His doctors say that he could die at any time now." Pancreatic cancer is an interesting choice, given that the pancreas is part of the third chakra, the one related to fear of assuming responsibility and issues of fear, intimidation, and trust. "He wants to apologize to you for what he did. He wanted me to ask if you'd come see him." Helen doesn't say anything. Man. I suppose I should question how he happened to find her, and how it happens that he's not that far from where she ended up living, but I've got a lot of recap left to write yet, and not a lot of day left to do it in, so I'll just ignore all that.

Friedman and Luke are playing the Sims II. Through a mouthful of chips, Friedman says the Sims rule. Luke: "So what do we do? We're out of money, we're down to our last happiness, and we've got flies." Friedman suggests going in the hot tub: "That always perks up the Sims, you know." I've never even played one minute of a Sims game, but it looks like lots of fun. That's actually why I've never played it: because I have very little self-control when it comes to things like that. I'd never get another thing done as long as I lived. I found out the hard way when I first got a computer more than ten years ago, and wasted far too much time becoming incredibly good at Wolfenstein. (And Solitaire, and then later Free Cell and Tetris.) It's all I can do now to pretend not to see the links for Letter Rip and Fowl Words on my desktop. Anyway. Luke: "We can't do that; we're going to have another baby." Hee hee! Friedman: "Forget the baby, man. If you neglect it long enough, a social worker comes and takes it away." Friedman seems to have something smeared all around his mouth in this scene, but in this lighting, I can't tell if it's flavour residue from the chips he's eating or an acne outbreak. Friedman suddenly starts making sounds that are supposed to be baby sounds, but they sound more like a baby gull than a humanoid baby. He jerks around a bit. Luke just gives Friedman a skeptical look. Friedman: "Oh, dude, these are, like, ber-Doritos. The Platonic ideal of Dorito-ness." Luke takes Friedman's chin in his hand and turns his face toward him. Friedman: "Qu pasa, mon ami?" Luke: "You're stoned." In three or four languages, no less. Friedman, like he just remembered: "Oh yeah. Yeah. Yeah." He nods and smiles. Luke complains that his mother's downstairs. Friedman tells him to chill, he didn't smoke it in the Girardi house: "I swiped it from my Uncle Herb." Hee. "He has glaucoma." Friedman giggles about that as a doorbell rings, and tells Luke to focus: "The social worker's coming. He's here." Luke's face is covered with consternation.

Helen's in the kitchen chopping the daylights out of some mushrooms. ["Interesting choice of vegetable given the scene. Snick." -- Sars] Joan's sitting on the table telling Kevin, "When I see him it just makes me remember how hurt I was. Am. I know it's time to move on but all that old stuff is still there, you know?" So does everybody know now what Adam did? Kevin asks if she wants some brotherly advice. Joan: "Uh, no thanks, Sir Dumped-a-Lot." Heh. Kevin expounds: "Exes can't be friends. You have to cut the cord." Joan: "Oh? What about Brad and Jen?" What about them? Are they friends? Wait, I just remembered: I don't care. Kevin: "What about Ben and Jen?" Joan: "What about Ben and the other Jen?" I don't even know who they're talking about anymore. Even better, I still don't care. Kevin: "What about the other Jen --" Just then Will arrives home, and Helen snaps: "What about shutting up for one minute?" Will, just coming into the kitchen, announces pleasantly, "All done protecting and serving. Arcadia is on its own." See? Isn't it better this way, when we just hear about it secondhand? As he walks past Joan, she whispers a warning: "Watch it." He notes the dinner menu: "Ooohcoleslaw andcheese grits. To what do we owe this culinary delight?" Helen says she felt like comfort food: "If you wanna order Chinese, go right ahead." Joan: "Told ya." Will: "Me? I love down-home cooking." He asks if she's okay. She claims it's the onions. Joan takes off for work. Will comments, "You're chopping that onion as if it ran the school board." Helen: "I said I'm fine! Stop playing detective." She suddenly cuts herself and hollers, "Damn it!" Will asks if she's okay, and Kevin turns his chair with concern. Helen: "Stop asking that!" She rushes off to deal with her wound. Kevin looks at Will, who indicates he'll go see about Helen.

She's rinsing her bloody digit in the sink when Will comes in. She looks at him sadly and admits, "So, uh, it wasn't the onions." Will: "I got that." He walks over to her as she starts to open a bandage. With her eyes downcast, she begins, "That guy in art schoolthe man who raped me" Will: "They found him?" She looks up: "No. He found me." Every cell in Will's body contracts slightly. She continues, "He wants to apologize to me before he dies." Will, reaching for his cell phone: "Sick bastard." I thought he was going for his gun. Helen asks what he's doing. He's calling the DA. Helen: "He has pancreatic cancer. He's in a hospice. He'll be dead before it'd even get to trial." Will: "Yeah, well, he's not dead yet." She takes the phone, and Will is incredulous: "Are you actually thinking of going?" She doesn't know: "I -- I think maybe this was brought to me as some kind of test." Will: "No. Don't. This is not some mission from God. This is the man who raped you." Helen presses her lips together and looks down.

Joan's at the bookstore, knitting away at the counter while studying instructions in a book, when Mrs. LandingGod wanders in and hangs over the counter, watching Joan. You know, I have no idea how this store stays in business at all. The only customer it seems to have anymore is God, and God never pays for anything. I doubt they're paying even Joan's salary on that one copy of In Touch that Professor Whozit bought. Joan notes God's presence, asking, "Are you going to give me a sticker that says, 'Inspected by God'?" Man. You'd buy that scarf, wouldn't you? Even if it were one of those exceedingly ugly things purveyed of late by the Gap. Mrs. LandingGod says she's just admiring. Joan describes the mistakes she's made. Mrs. LandingGod: "It's hard starting over, isn't it?" Joan says the book claims it's okay to drop a stitch every now and then. Mrs. LandingGod: "Well, it's the imperfections that make it unique." Joan: "Well, then, I'm definitely unique." Argh. Nothing modifies "unique." Stop it. Mrs. LandingGod: "The Persians make the most beautiful rugs in the world -- not that I play favourites" Hee. Uh-huh. "But in each rug, no matter how intricate and exquisite, the artist makes sure there's some small defect. It's called a Persian flaw. It's a recognition that perfection exists only in me. An acceptance that life can never really be lived exactly the way you expect." Joan looks thoughtful. Mrs. LandingGod tells Joan she loves the colours just before wandering off into the bookstore.

Joan puts her knitting down and walks over to a bookshelf (probably looking for Knitting for Dummies) when Adam comes in looking bummed. Before he can say anything, Joan says, "If you're looking for Grace, she's at her house." He's not looking for Grace. Joan notices how down he looks and asks in a small voice, so as not to show too much concern or interest, if he's okay. Adam, nearly inaudible: "Michael fired me." Joan's stunned. In a tone that's barely above a whisper, Adam says Michael told him his work's been sloppy for the last month. Hmm. The last month, you say? The time period during which you were screwing around on Joan with Bonnie and then getting caught and dumped? Also, he's been coming in late. Adam: "What's really sad is that he's right. I totally have been doing a lame-ass job." Joan can't completely conceal the look in her eyes, a look that reveals she knows how this job loss hurts him, and then he blows it by adding, "With everything that's been going on" Joan: "Oh. So now I'm involved in this?" Adam: "I just -- I just meant" She knows what he meant: "But I can't stand here and listen to you talk about how you were so wrapped up in cheating on me that you screwed up your job. It's not my problem." She walks back behind the counter as Adam says, looking at the floor, "I thought we were going to be friends." Joan: "I know how you'd like things to bebutthey can never be exactly what you expect, okay?" He says, "Fine," and walks out, as Mrs. LandingGod and Joan watch him from their different spots.

Why does Spiderman sound like he's doing a bad imitation of Professor Frink (the real one) on this Visa Check Card commercial? And apparently Jonathan Rhys-Meyers is playing Elvis. I guess that could work out.

Luke and Friedman are walking through the halls. Friedman is wearingthe dog's breakfast? That is, if the dog ate a Thomas Kinkade painting and then threw it up. I guess it's the very sweater (worn over a peach turtleneck) that Friedman-gone-"psychedelic" would wear, so kudos, Wardrobe Department. Friedman: "Dude, it's not heroin!" Realizing his voice was a little loud, he repeats it more quietly. "It's not heroin. It's just a little recreational ganja. I've only done it a few times." Luke: "Dude, you had to call Child Protective Services for a Sims baby. I mean, if you can't handle virtual reality --" Friedman: "I'm a scientist, not a father, okay? I'm expanding my neural frontier, exploring inner space. Where is your spirit of discovery, Doctor?" Luke spouts a bunch of stuff about the chemical properties of tetrahydrocannabinol, which may or may not be correct. I'd have to be a lot farther ahead on this recap than I currently am to spend any time looking that up, so you're on your own. Friedman's response: "Yeah. Somebody's been doing some reading. Intrigued, are we?" Luke leans on Friedman's locker: "It slows down your brain. Why would you want that?" Friedman claims, "Because it releases that sweet nectar dopamine, which heightens perception of musicfoodsexwhich, when I start having it, will be re-mark-a-ble!" He sings the last words. Luke: "If you like getting stoned, that's fine. But experimenting with drugs is not a genuine scientific pursuit." Tell it to Timothy Leary. Friedman: "Oh? So there's a limit on self-discovery?" He walks down the hall, lecturing Luke: "Deviation from the norm is precisely what generates our most extraordinary advances in science. Plus: you laugh your ass off, dude."

Helen (in her red coat) and Father Payne walk down the hospice corridor. She tells him, "I fantasized about bringing a gun today." Father Payne looks mildly concerned. "My husband's a cop and he would have happily given me his -- I didn't," she assures Father Payne, who's looking more concerned. He says, "Mrs. Girardi, if it's too painful --" Helen insists she wants to do this: "Forgiveness is an important part of faith." Professor Frink: "That's stupid. Shoot him." Me: "At least rip his catheter out." They go into his room and find the bed-ridden Edmond dozing very lightly. Helen stands there, staring at the creep who did her such damage. Father Payne clears his throat gently to stir Edmond, who looks over at Helen for a bit before he thanks her for coming. Helen doesn't say anything. Edmond: "I don't know how to do this. I'm just so sorry. Every day, I think about what I did." Helen asks in a calm, low voice: "Did you work on campus? Did I know youfrom somewhereI meanwhy me?" He says he doesn't know: "I'd never done anything like that before, I swear -- and I never did again." Maybe, but she has no reason to believe you, and frankly, neither do I. He continues, "The morning when I woke upI hoped it was a dreambut I saw the scratch marks." Helen's body heaves gently at the horrible memory. Father Payne looks at Helen. Frink: "Michael Badalucco always looks like he's about to cry." Her glance falls on a photo at Edmond's bedside, of him with a smiling blonde wife and cute little daughter. She asks softly, "Is that your family?" He nods. Helen asks if they know. He turns his face away and shakes his head a bit: "When I met Father Paynehe helped me find God." He holds his hand out, crying: "I want to repent. PleaseI want to repent."

Helen's looking away, ignoring his hand. Then she asks, "When? When did you find God? When you came in here?" He turns his head toward the window again. Helen sighs: "That's pretty convenient." Edmond insists: "I know that Christ is with me." She replies, "Then you don't need my forgiveness, do you?" Burn. Father Payne intervenes, "Mrs. Girardi, perhaps --" Helen: "No." To Edmond, in an angry but controlled voice: "You grabbed me. You held me downyour hand on my throat so that I couldn't breathe and then you -- you left me there. Do you know how long it took before I could get through one daywithout being terrified, without thinking of you? To let myself be touched again be someone who loved me? Twenty-five years I lived with that, and now you have a deathbed conversion and you want me to spare you the guilt for your last couple of weeks? No." Through his tears, he begs, "Please." Helen: "You feel every bit of this agony, every single moment until it ends you, and then, maybe you'll begin to understand what you did to me." Shot of Edmond looking pained. Helen: "You're getting exactly what you deserve. I hope you rot in hell." Frink: "Right on!" Yeah, we're all about the forgiveness here at Casa Vengeance. Helen turns sharply, and gives Father Payne a look that would wither a sequoia before walking out, leaving him to comfort the crying Edmond. Mary Steenburgen was great here.

The scene begins with a shot of a framed photo of Joan and Helen. We can hear it's raining outside. The camera drifts along to the den, where Helen is sitting on the couch reading. She puts the book aside as Joan comes wandering in with her knitting. Joan asks how her mother's finger is. Helen says it's fine and that it's just a little cut. Joan points out it's kind of oozing. She adds, "I hate to sound like you, but if you need to talk" Helen says her knitting looks good. Joan: "Yeah, if Ray Charles did it." She laughs. Then: "Mom, you just seem a little" Helen insists she's fine. The doorbell rings. Will's up, so he gets it. He opens the door to find Grace standing there, drenched, asking if Joan's home. Will invites her in, offering her a towel. Grace declines as Joan comes out wondering what's up. Grace: "Rove isn't here, is he?" He's not. Grace says he went hiking on Mount Nashman this morning, and hasn't come back. Thunder and lightning. Frink: "Great. He's on the Murderhorn."

Closeup of Luke's reddened eyes. He insists he doesn't feel anything: "Nothing, nada, niente, zippo, goose egg." Friedman, sitting on the floor opposite Luke, witha large red fun fur blanket wrapped around his head like a hood? Whatever. They're in Friedman's room. He tells Luke to chill out: "Let the mellow enter your soul." Luke shakes his head: "I'm telling you, it's a waste of time. My CB-1 receptors are obviously too strong to be overwhelmed by a little THC." There's an Einstein bong on the floor in front of Luke. Actually, on this crappy TV, I can barely make it out, but sharp-eyed forum posters tell me that's what it is, and I believe them, so props, Props people. Friedman's stuffing his face with Sun Chips, and Luke grabs some and starts shovelling them in. Friedman giggles.

Luke's eyes are watering enough for a couple of tears to run down his face. Through a mouthful of chips, he says, "Dude, these are amazing." Friedman agrees: "Sun Chips. They're the best-kept secret in the chip aisle." Luke, still sharing his mouthful of half-chewed chips with us, declares, "They're like the filet mignon of the genus Chipium, dude, so" Frink totally agrees. Luke stuffs more in his mouth and raves about the optimal sweet-spice ratio. "I could cry, dude. I -- I am crying!" They chortle about that, and Friedman gloats, "Dude: CB-1 receptor shields weakening." Luke acquiesces: "Taking a nap, maybe. You just don't know how hard your neurons have been working until you give them a little downtime." Friedman: "Soak it up, man. Soak it up." Luke worries about Friedman's parents smelling it. Friedman indicates the HEPA filter prominently situated in the foreground, saying it's for his allergies, but "There could be a biological attack and the HEPA would save the Friedmans." Well, thank God for small favours. Also: You really are baked if you believe that. Oh, wait! I almost missed it: is that proof positive that Friedman is his last name?

Luke suddenly wonders, "Do you think there will be? A biological attack someday?" Friedman starts to stutter an answer when Luke's cell phone rings. Luke panics a little, picking it up and saying, "Who, who, who, who?" We see an image of Grace looking annoyed on his phone display, although it's way clearer than it would actually appear. Luke tells Friedman who it is, and Friedman says, "Buzz kill! Let it ring!" Luke is getting more panicky, saying he has to answer it because it won't stop. Friedman: "It's Grace! You might as well give the feds a jingle!" What? Yeah, Grace is all over police and state intervention in the lives of the citizenry. It stops ringing and Luke says, "She hung up. She must know" Friedman tells him to chill out: "Let's put some music on!" Friedman rambles about Snoop Dogg as Luke becomes mesmerized by Friedman's groovy swirling screensaver. He tells Friedman his computer's on. Friedman says it's in power save mode. He decides Pink Floyd is too obvious a musical selection. ["Making that the first time in history that that has ever happened." -- Sars] Luke's crawled over to Friedman's monitor now and, through the fish-eye lens of the webcam, tells Friedman that his camera's on and pointed at them. I can't even tell you how much I don't want to think about Friedman andwebcams. I think my soul just left my body. Luke gets more panicky: "Dude! We could be mass broadcasting all over the internet!" Friedman assures him it's not online and decides on Bjrk, then dismisses her as "too Nordic." Through the webcam, we see Luke starting to freak a bit: "No, dude, it could be mass broadcasting all over the Internet!" Friedman gets shrieky: "Dude, stop saying 'mass broadcasting all over the Internet'!"

Pouring rain. Darkness. Lights and sirens as police cars approach the Nashman Recreation Centre. Joan's in the front seat of Will's car, and Grace is in the back. Joan: "He was pretty upset, wasn't he?" Grace says he was. Will: "How upset?" Joan: "I don't know. I didn't want to talk to him." Grace: "Me, neither." Will: "This is important. There's a family history of suicide." Joan: "Yeah, we know that, Dad." Grace asks if Joan's tried calling him again. Joan says she just keeps getting voicemail. Grace suddenly points: "There! That's the trail we used to take." Joan moans: "Oh, God" Grace points out Adam's truck. Joan's freaking: "Oh, my God!" She pulls her hood up and leaps out of the car, screaming his name. She beats on the side of the camper, and then walks toward the woods, screaming, "Adam!" Grace looks in the truck window. We go to commercial as Joan keeps screaming.

I want to hurt the person who put Zeppelin over a Cadillac commercial. Show a little respect.

Back at the foot of Mount Nashman, cops are going over the inside of Adam's truck for clues. Hey! There's Adam's father. Man, it's been a long time, been a long time, been a long lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely timeer, since we saw his dad. Sorry, still got Zeppelin on the brain. I missed him. I like Mr. Rove. He tells Will that Adam was supposed to be back by 6:00 to pick him up at work: "He always calls." A park ranger in a yellow rain coat slams the door of Adam's truck and walks over to Will and Mr. Rove, announcing, "No suicide note!" Thank you for the information, Ranger Tactful. Will: "I'm sorry, Mr. Rove, it's important that we" Mr. Rove says he understands, but the way he's backing up slightly from the ranger tells me he hadn't truly entertained that possibility. Ranger Tactful says they should head back to the station and organize a search team. Grace, standing off to one side under an umbrella with Joan, says he's got to be on the trail: "Why can't we just go and" Ranger Tactful says the trail's washed out in the third mile and there are loose boulders coming down. Joan: "We can't just leave him out there!" He adds that they've already lost three people on the mountain so far this year: "We don't want to lose any more." He radios his people to come down and tells everyone to meet back at the station. Joan: "Why did he do this?" She turns and screams at the mountain: "Adam! Damn it!" Grace pulls Joan back to the car.

A glittering, colourful shot of one of those fibre-optic sculptures. I think. Or it's an artsy representation of Luke's hallucinations, whichwhatever. I tried to establish whether or not marijuana is a hallucinogen but I got results -- in almost equal parts -- that indicated it definitely is, definitely is not, or is a very mild hallucinogen. So I don't know. I don't use it, so I can't really argue very strenuously on the basis of personal experience. However, Luke seems to be going through a textbook list of all possible reactions, and not stinting with the helpings of anxiety/distrust/fear/panic/paranoia. He's sitting on the bed, clutching a blanket and looking anxious when the phone rings. He looks at it: "It's Grace again." This time, he thinks Grace is talking to him from the screen: "Dude, answer your phone." Frink laughs his ass off. Luke concludes, "She definitely knows. She saw the broadcast." Friedman, curled up over on a bean bag with some snacks: "Dude, there was no broadcast." Luke wonders who else knows. The phone keeps ringing. Luke: "Man, my heart is beating like it's trying to get out of my chest, dude. Maybe there was something in that stuff, man! Maybe it was laced!" Friedman assures him there was nothing in it; he's fine, his Uncle Herb is fine: "His sight even improved!" Luke insists his heart is beating too hard: "Listen: la-dub, la-dub, la-duboh my God, I think it skipped a dub." Friedman tells him he's flipping out: "Chill."