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Let's start out with the good news -- there were scenes in this week's episode I actually found entertaining and engaging and not just puzzling, crypto-mysticism babble. Unfortunately, none of those scenes involved the Yosts. And since they're the centerpiece of the show, that's kind of a problem. Still, that's my cross to bear and not yours. Anyhow -- the episode: We pick up where we left off in episode two with Shaun waking up after Zippy's kiss of life. The broken neck, the permanent brain damage -- all healed up, thanks for asking. That nice doctor who used to murder hookers on Deadwood is understandably disquieted by all this, but not so much that he needs to keep Shaun in the hospital. So Shaun's not dead, and the Yosts are all happy about that. Well, not Mitch, who took off after last week's spat with Cissy and is now flanked by that pretty young documentary maker who's trying to seduce him on orders from Linc. Their courtship would be heading toward its inevitable humping much more smoothly if Linc weren't always calling to offer pointers -- you know, I think I can seduce older gentlemen without your help, Dylan McKay -- and news of Shaun's sudden, miraculous recovery. So Mitch returns home to get yelled at by Cissy, who really should have been all yelled out by that point after screaming at Butchie about his absentee-fatherism. A bit of a yeller, that Cissy. And what of our mysterious title character? Well, he and Kai depart from the hectic Yost household for that boning John's been promising since episode one. Trouble is, John doesn't know the first thing about boning. What he does know about is putting some sort of zap on Kai's head that makes her eyes roll back into her skull and makes any character with metal -- Kai's piercings, Butchie's implants, Ramon's crucifix -- feel a not-apparently-refreshing burning sensation. On the bright side, we have Freddy The Drug-Dealer, who apparently has a love of Sarah Brightman albums, an astonishingly stupid henchman, and a newfound animus toward Bill. Note to HBO: When the inevitable Freddy From Haleiwa spin-off is created, I promise to watch that show religiously. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Previously on John from Hamilton County: Linc tried to convince the Yosts to let Shaun enter the contest at Huntington and succeeded and then dispatched his beautiful henchwoman to make eyes at Mitch. Freddy the Drug Dealer flew in from Hawaii to have a frank exchange of views with mercilessly pummel Butchie. Cunningham declared that the Snug Harbor Motel was haunted and apparently not in a rollicking Disney's Haunted Mansion kind of way. Oh, and Shaunie broke his neck during the surfing competition and was declared brain dead -- at least until that parrot he brought back to life last week revived him with a peck on the cheek. So yeah -- pretty much a run-of-the-mill evening of television.
Opening credits. Don't you know about the bird? Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word. Or Jesus. Quite possibly Jesus.
The folks who were still standing in the hospital at the end of last week's episode -- Cissy, Butchie, and the sad-eyed doctor on one end of the room, John and Kai by the restroom, Linc sort of hovering about without anyone to pal around with -- when Bill slinks out of the room where everyone assumes Shaun is still vegetating. "He's much improved -- Shaun," Bill says in what is quite possibly the biggest understatement since "I think we're gonna need a bigger boat." Dr. Sad Eyes immediately heads into Shaun's room while Bill continues to chronicle his treatment regimen: "I had Zippy kiss him. I thought I'd take a shot." It is to the credit of everyone's superhuman restraint -- or a sign that everyone is used to Bill spouting nonsense -- that they just stare at him blankly as he details how a parrot was able to bring a brain dead boy back to life.
In Shaun's room, Shaun's eyes are open and he doesn't look any worse for the wear, save for the tubes that are stuck down his throat and the machines that are going "ping" in the background. Dr. Sad Eyes looks like someone just walked into the Emergent Care ward complaining of soreness in the third arm growing out of the middle of his forehead. "Hi, Shaun," Dr. Sad Eyes says slowly. "My name is Dr. Smith." So that is what we'll call you then. Dr. Smith recaps the last fifteen minutes of Episode 2 with regard to Shaun's injury. He asks if Shaun understands him, telling him to blink once for yes and twice for no; Shaun blinks once as pointedly as one can blink. Dr. Smith nearly swallows his own tongue at this turn of events, but manages to stammer out, "Okay." Outside the room, Butchie is threatening to barge on in, if Dr. Smith doesn't return soon; Cissy suggests this would be a bad idea. "Oh I'm going in," Butchie insists. "Very soon. If I don't see him, I'm going to head right in. And you don't try and stop me. You hear me? You don't try and stop me when I go on in there very shortly, which is what I am absolutely planning on doing. Oh, you're stopping me? Well, I'll just wait here, then."
Outside the hospital, Freddy the Drug Dealer has moved his rental car to a parking space with a view of the hospital's side exit and is whiling away the time doing what most of us would do in like circumstances -- listening to a recording of Sarah Brightman belting out "Time To Say Goodbye." I don't mean that sarcastically -- one evening the wife and I were idly channel-surfing and we came across a PBS broadcasting of Sarah Brightman in concert, which mostly involves her flouncing around the stage, dressed up like some druidic space hooker. Seriously -- a fantastic evening of television, particularly when she breaks out her "Whiter Shade of Pale" cover. Freddy apparently saw that special, too: "She's got some voice on her, this girl," he says, as if someone's sitting to him in the car, which is awkward because no one is. "Played the girl in the Phantom Of The Opera." And Rose in Aspects Of Love, though nobody seems to ever bring that up, just because that musical is terrible even by the low bar with which one judges Andrew Lloyd Webber's collective works. It's always Phantom and the Andrea Bocelli duets and the druidic space hooker get-ups. And...oh, I'm sorry. I got this recap confused with my gig over at Broadway Musicals Without Pity. Back to this show, where not even Sarah Brightman's soothing breathiness can calm down Freddy once he catches a glimpse of the reporters -- "vampire cocksuckers," Freddy calls them -- massing in front of the hospital. He becomes even more agitated once Mitch comes out the side exit and nearly gets discovered by the ink-stained and microphone-toting wretches. "Pray for yourself you don't see this man, you fucking vampire reptiles," Freddy spits, as La Brightman continues to hit her High Cs. "Because I will cut you into fifty fucking pieces before you get your first question out." He seems oddly protective on the Yosts, you know, considering that he's supplying the very thing that keeps Butchie addicted and despicable.
Having concluded his examination of Shaun, it looks like Dr. Smith is the one who needs medical attention. It's certainly not the Lil'est Yost, who checks out just fine, never mind that broken neck he came in with. Dr. Smith promises to remove that uncomfortable tube from Shaun's throat right after he goes and gives a status update to the rest of the Yost clan. Shaun blinks once signifying that he understands, and not forty-three times, which signifies, "Wait a minute, asshole. Get back over here and take out this tube now. Now. NOW!" Dr. Smith returns to the waiting area and announces to the remaining Yosts and their respective hangers-on that Shaun has recovered. They're surprised, and pleasantly so, but not nearly as floored as you or I might be. Dr. Smith promises to discuss things further once he gets that tube out of Shaun's throat: "It can be uncomfortable for families to watch," he says apologetically. Sounds like that's HBO's target demographic. ("It's not TV! It's uncomfortable for families to watch!") "You're going to pay for that, pal," Bill snarls into his coat, before turning to Cissy and Butchie. "Bird shit in my pocket," he tells them, by way of explanation. Of course he did. Panning down the hallway, we catch up with the one character who can match Bill for out-of-nowhere observations -- yes, it's Cincinnati's own John Monad, who leans over to Kai and says, "I took a dump." And: "Zippy kissed him." Followed by" "Shaun's much improved and well." And then: "Bill thought he'd give it a shot." With a: "Shit in Bill's pocket." Also: "I got my eye on you." And concluding with: "The end is near." That last one is said to Linc, who responds dryly, "I know. You told me." John turns his attention to Kai: "I'd like to bone you, Kai," he says. She takes this a hell of a lot better than most people would: "You are one smooth-talking city dude." Linc simply looks puzzled, which is a look I'll be replicating for most of the rest of our time together, so he and I have that in common.
Back outside, Mitch is still standing by the hospital's side entrance, trying desperately to blend in with the concrete wall, so the reporters 'round the corner don't notice him when Cass, following the scent of aging man-meat, comes out the side door. "Oh who's this now?" Freddy observes from his Sarah Brightman-scored seat in the peanut gallery. And he watches along with us while Cass lends a sympathetic ear to Mitch, who's still under the impression that Shaun is going to die. Guess it doesn't pay to storm off in a huff sometimes, eh, Grumbles? Anyhow, Cass has a swell idea -- she'll give Mitch a ride in her car and help him escape all those nasty reporters while furthering her plans to seduce him. (She doesn't spell out that last part so explicitly.) The Sarah Brightman music swells. "That's where the blind dago is supposed to come in," Freddy notes. "What is this, a different version?" It would appear to be.
Back in the hospital, Dr. Smith is explaining to Yost & Co. the medically unprecedented turn of events that has gone down thus far this episode. "When I examined Shaun on admission, his neck was broken," Dr. Smith says. "His spinal cord was severed, and there was no brain function. Your grandson had passed away by every meaningful measure. But now...he has come alive, showing no sign of any of those injuries." And this is unusual to you? All your fancy doctor books don't have any chapters in them about broken necks suddenly healing without any medical intervention whatsoever? Where the hell did you go to school, Dr. Smith? Grenada? Anyhow, the Yosts aren't particularly interested in how the world as Dr. Smith understood has been turned on its ear -- they're mostly interested in when Shaun can come home. "This is a very important and delicate part of this conversation," Dr. Smith says sotto voce. It seems that hospitals are ill-equipped to deal with people who magically heal on their own; also, I'm guessing it probably bums out the other patients. "So you're saying we should take him home?" Cissy asks. Oh no, no, no, no, no -- well, yes. But you didn't hear the doctor say that. While this discussion takes place, Butchie pops in to see how his son is doing -- Shaun is enjoying a cooling beverage. "Hey, Dad," he says brightly, flashing Butchie a hang loose, as if his own neck wasn't doing that just half-an-hour ago.
Freddy continues to sit in his rental car, listening to longest cut of "Time To Say Goodbye" in recorded history. A balding guy in a black tank top and black overshirt tries nonchalantly to sidle up to Freddy's car, but he's about as nonchalant as a high-school marching band. Freddy doesn't even bother looking over: "Are you gonna get in the fucking car?" Balding Tank Top Guy protests that he didn't know whether Freddy saw him or not and didn't want to catch Freddy unawares. Dude -- who didn't see you just now? There are people in Escondido who probably spotted you. Anyhow, Balding Guy and Freddy seem to know each other -- Balding Guy gets in the car, and Freddy asks for his hand. No, not to greet him effusively -- rather, Freddy shatters Balding Guy's hand into a million pieces. Freddy, you see, decides he needs an excuse to go into the hospital and find out what's going on, and what better excuse than to bring in an actual injured guy? Of course, you could always fake an injury, like abdominal pain or shortness of breath or the falling sickness, as opposed to, say, actually causing an injury. But Freddy believes in verisimilitude, I guess.
While Freddy is explaining to his balding cohort why it was necessary to give him a debilitating injury, Bill pokes his head out of the hospital's side entrance and looks around; soon, he's followed by a parade of Yosts and Yost associates, with Shaun riding on Butchie's back. "Okay," Freddy decides, "time for Plan B": Balding Guy is dispatched to distract the reporters from the escaping Yosts. Balding Guy decides that the best way to accomplish this is to run toward the reports holding aloft his recently crushed hand and screaming, "Hey, I've been attacked! I'm injured! Look what's happened to me!" As far as diversions go, this is slightly more creative than yelling, "Hey, I'm a creative a diversion over here!" but slightly less creative than shouting, "Oh my God, look over there! Away from where you might otherwise be looking!" But it does the trick: the Yosts are able to scurry to the parking garage, the Sarah Brightman music swells to a crescendo, and we've got a scene so enjoyable that if every scene were like this, you'd never hear me utter a discouraging word about John From Cincinnati ever again.
Unfortunately, there are far too many scenes like this one, which features Mitch sitting near the beach with Cass, while doing his no-one-understands-how-a-sensitive-soul-like-me-suffers act. Allow me to summarize as swiftly as possible:
Mitch: Grumble, grumble, grumble. My grandson is going to die. Competitions cheapen real surfing. Grumble, grumble, grumble. My old lady doesn't get me. Grumble, grumble, grumble.
Cass: Oooooh. Tell me more.
[A phone rings.]
Cass: Hello?
Linc: Hey -- have you seduced Mitch yet? Because that would be super if you had.
Cass: [Hanging up] Hey, let's go for a walk.
Mitch: Grumble, grumble, grumble.
And...scene. Well, there is a little bit where Linc tries to pry information from Dr. Smith about what happened to all the Yosts and Dr. Smith gives him the cold shoulder, and Linc gives him a look like, "Man, if this were 1992, I'd drag you out behind the Peach Pit and slap you silly." The takeaway points here, I think, are that Linc is devious and Mitch is something of a dick.
Back at the Snug Harbor Motel, Cunningham, Dickstein and Ramon are back in the office where Butchie and Co. left them upon hearing of Shaun's accident. "When my brother-in-law got shot one time," Ramon observes, "nobody felt like cooking." If that seems like a non sequitur to you, it's equally as puzzling to Cunningham, who wonders what Ramon's getting at. "When the Yosts get home, they'll be sad," Ramon continues. "They'll have no food." "Shall we take them a nourishing pot luck dinner?" Dickstein wonders. Ah, the post-trauma pot luck supper -- a reassuring sign of community love and support, but with its parade of casseroles and baked dishes, an event often more gut-wrenching than the trauma itself. Or perhaps I'm the only one who associates congealed salads with dead relatives. Anyhow, the Three Amigos decide to go pick up food for the Yosts -- "Something which can be heated easily and served without any fuss," Dickstein says -- but only after Cunningham makes a return trip to Room 24. Wait a minute -- I thought after the last attempt, we weren't going to let Mr. C go back there any more. "Only to close the door I left open as I fled," Cunningham says. Ramon glances sideways at Dickstein and suggests that maybe the door-closing could keep until tomorrow; it's not like an open door is suddenly going to attract vagrants who make the place look filthy and run-down, after all. But Cunningham is insistent about "marking the boundaries" between him and the evil spirits dwelling within Room 24. "Didn't the poet say, 'Good fences make good neighbors'?" he asks. Yes, but I think he meant it ironically.
So, like Dorothy and her Oz pals, Cunningham, Dickstein, and Ramon begin the slow walk to Room 24, passing the bikini-clad cardboard cutouts Butchie and John brought home from the liquor store last week. "Animate or inanimate?" Cunningham wonders. "Inanimate," Dickstein reassures him, which makes them the least weird characters on this show, right after the parrot. Outside the room in question, Cunningham stops and asks the other two whether they "hear the dead man singing within?" They don't -- Ramon's half-deaf from the leaf blower and Dickstein claim's surfer's ear. Also: there's no dead man singing from within. So that might be a reason, too. Nevertheless, Cunningham insists that there is music -- a "jovially croaking post-coital falsetto winsomely caricaturing Debby Boone." As if to demonstrate, Cunningham launches into a tremulously falsetto version of "You Light Up My Life" -- the look Ramon shoots Dickstein is priceless -- before shutting the door and staring blankly off into space. "Maybe we could get them some pea soup," Ramon says. Yes -- and hold the Debby Boone.
Back at Casa de Yost, Shaun is in bed and looking up results of the surfing competition on his laptop. "I won, Dad," he says brightly to Butchie, and how'd you like to be the web editor who wrote that headline? "Young Surfer Loses Brain Function, Wins Competition." "Broken Neck Doesn't Keep Yost Out of Winner's Circle." "Yost Wins By a Neck." The folks at the New York Post train for years for this sort of thing. Shaun wants to know if he can get out of bed. "It's a three-ring circus out there now, Shaunie," Butchie says. "If you get out of bed, we'll be up to five." Indeed, just a glance into the living room by Butchie reveals that it's packed with bodies -- Cissy's in there, trying to reach Mitch by phone, John and Kai are milling about, and presumably Bill's in there, too.
And what of Freddy and his diversion-creating sidekick? They're parked outside, where Balding Guy is treating his Freddy-inflicted wound by wrapping duct-tape around his wrist and hand. "What a stupid fuck you are," Freddy observes. "Explain to me the difference between you and a monkey in a tree." The monkey probably has better health coverage, if that duct tape is all the treatment that wrist is going to get. Anyhow, Balding Guy has a question for Freddy -- why did he, Freddy, instruct him, Balding Guy, to take the fine heroin Butchie normally enjoys and replace it with non-narcotic shit? Freddy outlines how Butchie's come into some modest wealth, thanks to his insurance settlement, and his plans to go into the drug-dealing business himself. "What he's gonna do is O.D. and die," Freddy says angrily. Ah, so this is about keeping a valued customer, Balding Guy concludes. Wrong again: "All the weight I move, you think Butchie's two dimebags a day means anything to me?" Freddy asks with more than a hint of rhetorical irritation. "So our angle is...what?" Balding Guy asks. "I don't know," Freddy fires back. "Not why I told you not to sell to him. Not why I flew out here for, to see shape-changers in the rear view mirror." You know, I think that mean ol' drug dealer might have a soft spot in his heart for Butchie and the rest of the Yosts. I honestly do.
On a beach, a young woman takes her grandpa for a walk -- oh, sorry, that's Cass and Mitch. The tenor of their conversation has not improved substantially since the last scene. Mitch: "Grumble, grumble, grumble...in my day." Cass: "Ooh, Mitch, you're such a famous surfer." Mitch: "Grumble, grumble, Butchie. Grumble, grumble, grumble, Shaun." Cass: "Hey, want to come back to my place?" Mitch: "Grumble?"
At this precise moment, Cissy is getting Mitch's voicemail. ("Hi, this is Mitch Yost. I'm either grumbling about something or I'm grumbling on the other line. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll get back to you. Grumble.") At the door, Bill is shoo-ing away some well-wisher. "Gawkers, press, candle fanatics," he says to Cissy. "We're on the precipice of a clusterfuck." Indeed. So how best to remedy that? Bill proposes that he go outside and thin out the crowd with own special brand of insanity; Cissy thinks that's a capital idea, since it will reduce the amount of Crazy in the room to a more manageable level, even with John still in the room. Kai will take care of it -- she offers to take John to go look at some boards over at the surf shop, which is either a sincere offer or just a euphemism for "Let me get this weird-ass Morrissey lookalike out of your hair for a little bit while you wrap your brain around this whole grandson-revived-from-the-dead thing." It is a fairly common euphemism with the kids these days. My cable picks this precise moment to flip out, so I can't make out exactly what John says, but judging by the nonplussed reactions of everyone in the room, I'd wager he just offered to bone Kai again. "Make her see God, John," Butchie says encouragingly. "I'm gonna try hard enough," John replies with a great deal of purpose; then he smiles sweetly. Kai drags him outside, vowing to hop the back fence to avoid the throng of media outside. Oh, I don't know -- I think John looks like just the person to go and give a prepared statement to the press. Sure, it'd be about taking dumps and boning people, but at least we'd know he'd be quoting people accurately.
Cissy asks a question that probably should have been posed much earlier when there's a guy you only just meant skulking around your house in the middle of a family crisis: "Where is that guy from?" "Cincinnati," Butchie responds. That apparently answers a lot, because rather than pursue any further line of inquiry, Cissy just sighs. "Shaunie won," Butchie tells his mother. "Maybe I should leave your dad another message," says Cissy, before pausing and confessing that she and Mitch had a big ol' fight in the hospital. Butchie, like all of us, manages to suppress his shock. "Last few days have been a little strange," Butchie concedes. "I'm not confusing you two with the Huxtables." It would be hard for any of us to make that mistake -- "This week on The Cosby Show, Cliff teaches Rudy an important lesson about self-confidence while Theo makes a bad drug buy from his longtime connection." Speaking of that, Cissy notices through the window that Freddy is hanging around outside. "I don't want any trouble here, Butchie," Cissy snaps, upon hearing that Freddy flew all the way from Hawaii to whup some sense into Butchie. Oh, you'll be all right -- just don't go to shake his hand. "He's not surfing," Cissy says suddenly. "His boards are in the garage." She must be talking about Mitch now. "Well, I mean, if you go up in the air like he did, it has to fuck with you head a little," Butchie responds. "Who, Freddy?" Cissy asks. "No," Butchie says. "I don't know," he adds. That makes you and the entire viewing audience there, buddy.
Outside the house, Bill is striding up to Freddy, who is now leaning against his rental car with his arms folded. Now, this should be a meeting of the minds. Seriously, I have been looking forward to this moment since last week's previews. It is like Nixon sitting down with Elvis, only with more dementia. Okay, only slightly more dementia. Bill would like to know Freddy's business with the Yosts. Freddy's business is none of Bill's business. Well, Bill's going to make it his business, and demands to know Freddy's name. Freddy would like to know Bill's name. "Bill Jacks, I'm a retired police officer," says Bill. "And you don't want to make me ask your name again." "Retired cops don't get my name, what time it is, or pissed on if they go up in flames," Freddy retorts. How unfortunate that Bill is a retired police officer, then. "That would be a mistake by you pertaining to me," Bill says. "Well, go up in flames," Freddy replies. "I'll piss on ya." "Because I will kick your ass," Bill continues, "retired or not." Freddy backs down ever so slightly and identifies himself as a friend of the family. Bill replies that he's a friend of the family, too, so they have that much in common, at least. "I've flown a long distance on my dime to look out for these people," Freddy says wearily. "I don't have to fly because I live nearby," Bill replies, gesturing toward his house. "Well, pin a rose on your donkey nose," Freddy taunts. "Being you won't tell me your real name, here's a made-up one," Bill says. "Do not impede me looking out for these people, Dipshit-Who-Looks-Like- Someone-Smashed-His-Face-In-With-A-Board." Would that be of the Oahu Dipshit-Who-Looks-Like- Someone-Smashed-His-Face-In-With-A-Boards? Because that's a good family...very musically inclined. Anyhow, that's another great scene. Man, I hope we don't follow it up with another Mitch-Cass suck-fest like before.
Hey, it's Mitch and Cass driving. You know what, Milch? Screw you. Cass is making like she's talking to one of her film assistants on the cell phone; in truth, it's Linc on the other end of the line, insisting that she table the seduction plan for now and get Mitch back to Casa de Yost. Cass hangs up and says that her assistant -- who is definitely not Linc who she definitely does not work for -- has been following the story on the TV, and that Shaun has been taken home. That knocks Mitch speechless -- or at least grumble-less. "Turn around," he says. I guess his rage-filled infidelity will have to wait for another day.
At the surf shop, John is idly flipping through surfboards, while Kai urges him to take as much time as he needs to make his selection. Boards are not what's on John's mind: "Where do we bone, Kai?" he asks. Kai points out that if it were to happen -- she emphasizes the word "if" -- she's got a trailer out back. But first let's talk about the use of the word "bone" -- Kai does not think that word means what John thinks it means. To prove her point, Kai orders John to "touch my tits." "Tits don't ring a bell," John says slowly. Ah, so you're an ass man, then? No, no -- John appears not to know what those are either. Kai takes him by the hand and leads him out of the shop. "Are we going to bone?" John asks. "We're going to my trailer," Kai says. "Boning doesn't necessarily ring a bell." That's also an apt description of the dating scene for me back in my early twenties.
Back at the Yost house, Butchie walks in to Shaun's bedroom to discover that he's no longer in bed; instead, he's sitting in a chair, reading magazines. "I'm not tired," he protests. That's cool with Butchie. So why does Cissy want him to stay in bed, Shaun wants to know. Because she saw you get hurt, Butchie explains. Shaun notes that he's okay now. Butchie counters that he was hurt, and asks if he remembers anything post-wipe-out. Shaun shakes his head. "You got fucking done, man," Butchie tells his son. "Owned hard. Gram and Gramps, too, they thought you weren't going to make it." This doesn't seem to unsettle Shaun any, though he does concede that when he woke up there was a tube in his mouth and that Bill and Zippy the Parrot were there. Butchie has picked up one of the surf magazines Shaun was reading and points to a picture of one of the surfers -- "One time I put icy hot in the crotch of this guy's wet suit," he says. Aw, memories. Speaking of which, Shaun recalls that Zippy was dead just the other day. "You thought he was dead," Butchie corrects him. Anyhow, Shaun would like very much to go skateboarding out on the half-pipe in the backyard, what with his neck feeling better and all. Butchie, who hasn't parented the first dozen or so years of Shaun's life and doesn't see much point in starting now, agrees, but also points out Cissy might have some strong feelings on the subject: "Now, I let you go out there, you're gonna do what you're gonna do. But you have to let Grams do what she has to do...You know, because something really did happen to you, Shaunie." Father and son share a meaningful look -- Father Knows Best, this is not. Since he hasn't apparently had his fill of awkward father-son moments for the evening, Butchie whips out his cell phone and tries to get a hold of his dad -- he gets the voicemail, too, and urges his dad to call Cissy, adding, "It's not what you think." That's good, because if I were Mitch and I was getting all these calls from Cissy, I would think it was because she wanted to yell at me about something.
And this scene is the reason why I would reach that conclusion. Skateboard in hand, Shaun heads out the back, where Cissy is enjoying a furtive cigarette. She is not pleased that Shaun is out of bed; she is even less pleased to hear that Butchie gave his permission for Shaun to go skateboarding on the half-pipe. "Did he tell you to break your neck for the second time today?" Cissy asks, her voice steadily escalating as she reaches the end of the question. From inside, Butchie is seen overhearing her mounting rage; the "oh shit" expression on his face is palpable. Back into the house, young man -- Grandma would like an expletive-filled word or two with your father. After escorting Shaun to his room, Cissy strides up to Butchie with frightening rapidity and screeches, "Did you build that half-pipe?" Butchie concedes he did not. "And what you did is BLOW SMOKE IN THE PHONE," Cissy screams, with those all-capped words shouted at a volume that could drown out jet engines. The remainder of her tirade vis-à-vis Butchie's crappy performance as a dad is delivered at that same volume, and while it's certainly justifiable for the character to act that way, given the circumstances, and Rebecca DeMornay is acting the hell out of the scene, it doesn't make it any more pleasant to watch. Seriously, I'm afraid she's going to turn to me soon: "You, recapper! With your dumb pop-culture references AND STUPID GODDAMN JOKES!" Anyhow, Cissy screams at Butchie for letting Shaun go skateboard until Butchie storms out of the house -- that's the main thing to realize here. Also, when I had the TiVo paused mid-tirade, my wife walked in, got a glimpse of Rebecca DeMornay with the spittle flying off her lips and hair exploding every which way, and remarked, "Wow, the gorgon in mid-sneer." She said it, Rebecca DeMornay, not me! She did it! Loose your mighty wrath on her, but spare me!
We're back in Kai's trailer, where she's fiddling with a CD player while John stands around awkwardly. "We're boning now, aren't we?" Kai asks. "Now, we're boning, Kai," John agrees. "Boning, John," Kai finally explains, "is when you put your joint in my pussy." Boy, that's a whole lot more blunt than how it was explained to me back in the day. (The words "thingie" and "hoo-hah" came up quite frequently, as I recall.) John looks as if the words "joint" and "pussy" have as much meaning to him as "thingie" and "hoo-hah." "Now we're boning," John insists. Kai finally asks the question that most of us probably had right after the credits rolled in Episode 1: "Has anyone ever called you 'slow,' John?" "I don't know Butchie instead," John replies, which, really, is answer enough. Kai expresses her concern that if they were to bone -- again, that prominently placed "if" -- she'd feel like she were taking advantage of an admittedly attractive half-wit. Ladies, I assure you, we half-wits are willing to live with that secret shame. "See God, Kai," John says. And -- I know we can say this about 50% of the scenes on this show -- here's where things get weird. Kai's eyes roll up into her skull. We see grainy footage of Butchie buying heroin in some back alley. Then Vietnam Joe, who is outside the Yosts' house, grabs his knee and falls to the ground yelping. Same with Ramon -- he's dropped the bag of food he was carrying and fanning his chest with one hand while trying to keep his crucifix away from his skin with the other. By this time, Kai has fallen backward. Ah, but the visions are not done -- just prior to shooting up, Butchie's head starts smoking. "Fuck!" he screams, quite understandably, rocking back and forth in pain. Only then does Kai come to -- she complains of dizziness and that her body piercings feel like they've been in a furnace. "They were in a furnace," John says affirmatively. "Don't do that to me again, John," Kai says. "Ever." "See God, Kai," John repeats. "If that's what it's like," she says, "I don't want to." "That's what it's like," John whispers. So...discuss!
Well, I don't know about you, but after that, I could really use some more of The Courtship of Mitch Yost. Cass's convertible pulls up, and Mitch mutters "Thanks," and starts walking toward the house. Oh, sure thing, Mitch -- call me. You're a real fun date. As Mitch approaches, he sees the throng of reporters out front and hesitates. He's also being observed by Linc from his SUV, Freddy and Bill (who walks over to Mitch), and Freddy's blissfully stupid henchman, who's bringing back coffee from the local donut shop. "What did you do, celebrate your birthday over there?" Freddy snarls. "Perhaps I would have been able to fetch your coffee faster with two working hands," the henchman does not say, because Freddy would probably just break the other one. Also, apparently the henchman burnt his broken hand on the coffee. "When it rains, it pours," he says sadly.
Mitch has just one question for Bill: "Why'd she bring him home?" Because Shaun's recovered from his injuries, Bill says. Mitch looks at Bill like he's crazy, and normally, that would be totally appropriate, but not in this case, since his report is factually accurate. "A miracle?" Bill says, when Mitch demands to know what he's talking about. Mitch walks away confused. "What are you going to say?" Bill mutters to himself. "Tell him the bird kissed him?" Well, when you put it like that, it simply sounds improbable. Zippy reacts by taking another crap in Bill's pocket.
Having a pocket full of bird crap is much more pleasant than what Mitch is experiencing right now -- he's being surrounded by reporters as he tries to make his way through the font of the house. "Rhubarb, rhubarb, question, rhubarb," the gaggle of reporters murmurs. Mitch grumbles at the mob that he won't be talking to them, though he does turn around to tell one reporter to pick up the cigarette he dropped on the Yosts' driveway. Seriously, Thoughtless Reporter -- take only pictures, leave only lasting resentment toward the modern media. Instead of picking up his cigarette, the reporter signals for his camera crew to follow him as he tries to interview bystanders; unfortunately, the first bystander he picks is Vietnam Joe, who holds up his hands in the universal symbol for "No comment, and I do know how to gut a man." "There's another fucking drug casualty," mumbles Bill, as he watches this scene from afar.
Cissy has moved her smoking inside the house, which is where Mitch finds her as he enters. He grimaces. "I'm so happy about Shaun," he says. Yeah, you look it -- the furrowed brow really conveys that. Cissy points out that she's smoking in the house; I guess that's a source of tension between the two of them, but Mitch doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he's all, "Sorry I tried to pull the plug on our grandson earlier..." and she's all, "Where the hell were you all this time?" and he's all, "Getting my head together, man." Actually,what he says is this: "The things you said to me in that room, you know, it's going to take some time living into those, too." That'd be the part where Cissy called Mitch a coward about his own tortured medical history, in case you were wondering. Cissy asks if Mitch wants to go to see Shaun; Mitch starts to, but then stops and sits down. "What you said to me in the hospital shamed me, Cissy," Mitch says. "And it made me recognize how my shortcomings have hurt you." Well, realizing that you're a dick is the first step to being less of a dick, I suppose. But Mitch isn't ready to take that step; he declines to visit his grandson right now, lest Shaun see him in this emotionally fragile state. Cissy finds that position...puzzling: "Not being as bright as you, Mitch, so full of the wisdom of the east, sounds like you're saying what's right for you is to do whatever you fucking want. Which isn't exactly fresh news." Cissy, I know we've had our differences in this recap and elsewhere, but I'd say that's a fairly accurate perception of Mitch's behavior. Mitch, your rebuttal? He gets irritated and leaves. And you know, here's a real problem I'm having with the show. Forget the weird little plot twists and the odd pacing -- I can handle all that. But at the end of the day, one of the central characters just isn't that engaging. I don't mean not likable, which he isn't at this point -- I just mean a dull, lifeless waste of screen time, especially compared to the more vibrant supporting characters that surround him. If this is supposed to be about the hero's journey, what if the hero is someone you don't particularly to travel with?
Back wherever Butchie was attempting to shoot up heroin -- I think it's another wing of the Yost house, since it's a little too sanitary to be the Snug Harbor -- he's touching his head and trying to figure what the hell happened earlier. He's not smoking anymore, so that's a sign of progress. As he gets up and leaves, we notice that the heroin spilled off the spoon in all the hubbub. So Butchie still hasn't gotten that much sought-after high, though his scalp is probably golden brown and delicious by this point.
Look, everyone -- it's Dr. Smith strolling up to the house. And now we know John From Cincinnati exists in fantastical world of make-believe -- it's a doctor making a house call! Hey-oh! I'll be here all week -- be sure to tip your waiters and waitresses. Bill waves hello to the doctor, who sheepishly waves back, and Freddy's balding henchman is all, "A doctor, you say?" and "Uh, I think I'm going to go stand over there for a while." Freddy registers his disgust.
Inside the house, Cissy is using the stove's pilot light to start another cigarette -- with her hair the way it is, that's just a Michael Jackson Pepsi ad mishap waiting to happen. Anyhow, Dr. Smith is at the door, and he's here to talk about Shaun. "I'm confident the diagnosis of Shaun's condition that I gave you and your husband in that waiting room was correct," the doctor begins. That'd be the catastrophic neck and brain injuries for those of you keeping score at home. "People don't survive those injuries as vegetables, let alone recover fully," the doctor continues. "Yet I don't doubt that if you let me examine Shaun, I'll confirm that he has recovered. Which brings us face to face with possibilities I've been taught deserve no more than a friendly pat on the head." And that's why the doctor is here: he thinks what's going on with Shaun may have passed out of the realm of the medical and into something entirely else. Whether Cissy is charmed by his stammering awkwardness or just because she'd rather be alone with her Camels, she directs Dr. Smith toward Shaun's room.
Outside, Butchie is hopping back over the Yosts' fence, where he finds Mitch hanging upside down. Oh my God, he's been crucified -- hide the women and children. The Romans are back and they're running wild on the streets of Imperial Beach! Actually, Mitch just caught his knee on a nail sticking out of the fence. "You're hanging there like a side of beef," Butchie observes. Yes, that's just what the Romans want you to think -- they're a crafty lot. Anyhow, Butchie tries to yank his father down; Mitch protests that he's going to tear the artery. And there's much back-and-forth and slapstick and tomfoolery like what you'd see from Jackie Gleason and Art Carney if The Honeymooners used much fouler language, and eventually, Mitch is able to get down. "I guess you hear about Shaun," Butchie says. "Yeah, that was...something," Mitch sputters. Butchie suggests to his father maybe they should go clean up the wound; Mitch limps off. Yeah, it'd be a real shame to lose a character like that to tetanus; I'm not sure I'd be able to keep watching without Mitch's wit and wisdom. Butchie watches him go and rubs his still-not-smoking-anymore head.
In Shaun's room, Dr. Smith is conducting what looks to be a field sobriety test. He's making Shaun touch his fingers while his eyes are closed and touch his nose. And I guess this is supposed to ensure that Shaun's muscle control and brain functions are A-OK, but if the doctor asks him to recite the alphabet backwards while standing on one leg, I'm calling shenanigans. Dr. Smith declares his examination complete. "So was I dead or something?" Shaun asks. Were you ever! But like Butchie before him, Dr. Smith dances around the whole death issue and goes with "something" -- "You were pretty banged up when they brought you in, Shaun," he says. "But obviously you're fine. If I had any doubts, I'd restrict your activities." Shaun presses him: "Did you think I was going to die?" "No sir," the doctor says. "No, I did not." Though truth be told, your grandfather was pretty sold on the idea, kid. Dr. Smith says he's glad he got the chance to be Shaun's doctor, and Shaun thanks him for taking care of him. From the window, there's a loud cough. "That's my dad," Shaun says. Butchie would like a word with the doctor. Shaun would just like the doctor's permission to skate. Permission granted, you little scamp.
While Shaun is inside making nice with his grandma -- "I'm sorry I scared you...getting hurt." -- Butchie and the doctor are discussing matters medical and metaphysical out on the half-pipe in the backyard. "I'm having problems with my implants, Doc," Butchie beings, pointing at his skull. No, no -- Butchie's not referring to his brain, though I can understand why you'd leap to that conclusion. It seems Butchie got into the whole body modification scene -- "sort of a fuck you/who gives a fuck," he explains to the remarkably understanding doctor.
(I hasten to that add that the discussion between Butchie and Dr. Smith is intercut with a high-larious exchange between Shaun and the poor, put-upon henchman, who calls himself Palaka. He's outside Shaun's window: "Listen -- that guy in the back," Palaka says. "Is that the guy I saw coming in?" "How would I know who you saw coming in?" Shawn asks testily. Palaka concedes this is a valid point. "Anyway, he's a doctor?" asks Palaka, with renewed urgency. Shawn says that he is; Palaka is glad to hear that someone will be able to give his wrist the attention it's needed for several hours now. He thanks Shaun profusely and leaves, before returning to the window. "Hey, you know Steady Freddy?" Palaka asks. "I do delivery work for him." Shaun is understandably not interested in meeting his father's drug mule. "Anyway, I'm glad you're better," Palaka says. "Yo, cool." Palaka, ladies and gentlemen -- he's the incompetent henchman who can talk to the young people.)
Back to implant talk: like Vietnam Joe's knee and Ramon's crucifix and Kai's piercings, Butchie's metal implants heated up -- so hot he passed out. The doctor sheepishly observes that sensations of burning like those described by Butchie can be brought on by I.V. drug use -- who, me, Butchie asks, nervously pulling his sleeves down past his track marks. The doctor is not the least bit fooled, noting that Butchie has a phlebitis -- "where you shoot up," he says -- that ought to be examined in case the clot breaks off. "It's also possible that what you felt had nothing to do with paresthesias," Dr. Smith adds. Perhaps it was...a paranormal experience! (Cue spooky music.) Okay -- there was no spooky music at all. Instead, Dr. Smith points out that a family where one kid miraculously recovers from fatal injuries shouldn't rule out the possibility of the supernatural. That gets Butchie to thinking about his father and that unexplained levitating we saw a couple episodes back. "I wouldn't rule out the possibility of a connection," the doctor says, which is a lot nicer than the "Get away! Get away, crazy man who talks crazy!" that most of us would probably say instead. "Oh yeah," Butchie adds, "I'm also being followed by this guy who reaches into his pocket and magically produces money and credit cards and cell phones." "Unlimited calling minutes?" the doctor asks, not the least bit skeptically. And then there's the whole lack of withdrawal symptoms that Butchie's been demonstrating. The doctor shakes his head and smiles. "What's the matter?" Butchie demands. "I am so happy," the doctor says. Well, somebody is. Palaka has been overhearing on this, and he scampers off -- either to tell Freddy or change his pants. Or both, probably.
Anyhow, at this point, Cissy tells Shaun that he can go skateboarding, and boy, the smile on that kid is something. Anyhow, everyone's gathering in front of the Yosts' place -- Vietnam Joe, Linc; even Kai and John have come back from their failed foray into the exciting world of boning. Dickstein and Cunningham are there, too, trying to get their delivery of nutritious soup past a suspicious Bill and Freddy. "Jesus Christ," Linc mutters. Who? John? The parrot? Nope -- in this case he's referring to Shaun, who's going up and down the half-pipe while the assembled multitudes watch. "See God, Kai," John says. Perhaps we have.
week: Cissy shows an unnatural interest in Linc. Mitch shows an inability to remain earthbound. And Butchie shows concern for John who's gone missing. More accurately, he's been yanked into a van of bandits, who don't take too kindly to that I'll-just-repeat-everything-you-say gimmick of his. Let's hope for more of the good stuff we saw this week and less of the bad stuff. Yes, Mitch -- I'm referring to your grumbly ass.