Neil Finn sings over our intro to Episode 4, as Men In Trees continues its campaign to make me fall totally in love with it. Marin and Patrick appear to be wrapping up First Things Frist as Marin throws to Patrick for an announcement: Elmo's lost its oldest resident, Franklin Cook having died. As we hear him on the radio, we see Patrick at the "Welcome To Elmo, Alaska" sign at the edge of town, sadly changing the population from 233 to 232. A flag is moved to half-mast, and then we're back in the studio as Patrick says they'll miss Franklin most of all at the New Moon Festival, during the Polar Bear Swim. Marin exposits that this involves swimming in a body of freezing-cold water, and Patrick fondly says that Franklin always went commando. Maybe he died from having his testicles shrink so far away from the cold that they ended up in his windpipe. That can so happen! Marin decides that the late Franklin's had enough of a eulogy, and announces that, as a New York girl, she won't go in the water without a tetanus shot. Um, did I miss the scene where anyone asked her to? Patrick says that the festival will be in Franklin's honour this year, and that the residents of Elmo shouldn't miss the town meeting: "Pakuma's coming to help plan the festivities." Marin thinks Pakuma is a party planner -- because she's from New York, people, where people pay for such fripperies as professional event planners -- allowing Patrick to exposit that Pakuma is Elmo's sister city, and that they often collaborate on cutesy town events of this sort. Patrick invites anyone who's upset about Franklin to call in for Marin's help, and when she protests that she's a relationship coach, and not a good one...I mean, "not a grief counselor," Patrick rejoins that there can be a lot of grief in relationships. Marin decides to roll with it, telling Elmo that she's sorry for their loss, and then kicks it thesis statement-style: "Losing someone can make you feel like you have a huge hole in your life -- make you wonder who you are without them [sic]." In his office, Jack listens intently as Marin goes on: "Sounds like Franklin had a big impact on everyone; it'll take some time to get over it." Jack reaches for a framed photo on his desk, depicting himself at the dock with a shrunken old dude we can reasonably assume is Franklin, who possibly should have paid more attention to his calcium intake before he kicked the chum bucket.
Marin Marins into some kind of multi-purpose building that houses, among other things, the Elmo post office. When she gets to the door, there's a hand-lettered sign that promises, "BE BACK SOON." Marin groans, apparently not placated by the slightly creepy happy face the postal worker's thoughtfully used to decorate the sign. I think it's that the eyes are circles, not dots, and that there's a little dot nose; it suggests that the PO might possibly be managed by Jack Skellington. Marin asks Jerome, who's sitting right beside the door unwrapping a sandwich, whether he knows when the post office will be open. Let's save some time: Jerome is the postal employee, and he evidently doesn't take a lot of pride in his work, preferring to enjoy a little Jerome time with his lunch rather than opening back up so that Marin can pick up a parcel of her winter clothes that have been sent from New York. "What's wrong with the clothes we have here, fancy-pants?" mutters Jerome. She bitches at him; he tells her that if she's unhappy with the hours he keeps, she can raise it at the town meeting; she sasses that she will. Quirky residents, a big public celebration, and a town meeting? I was thinking of it as British Colaska, but maybe it's actually more like Stars Holmo.
Inn. Marin, without her winter clothes, is so cold she's turning a pair of wool socks into arm warmers by cutting holes for her digits. Sara gives her some helpful tips on how to keep warm, including wearing a hat (because your mother was actually right about that -- you do lose most of your body heat via your head) and not drinking too much at night, because it lowers body temperature. Even hot toddies? Marin's like, "Thanks, Beekman," and Sara says she's always been interested in how the body works; she's been thinking of signing up to do volunteer EMS work. Marin thinks that sounds great, but Sara's not so sure; the coursework costs money, and taking the class would require her to take time away from her son, so between the loss of income and the loss of quality time, she's decided that it's not really worth it. Marin thinks she'd be great at it, and Sara, by way of answer, produces a toque from her purse and hands it over. Marin happily puts it on, and either Wardrobe got her a big one for comic effect, or Anne Heche has a teeny little peanut head. I wish -- my giant noggin is totally hat-proof.
Patrick is working at his computer, but covers guiltily when Marin bounds up. "Is that my chat room?" she asks. "Are those my socks?" he asks her. Well, they were. Marin asks what's up in her chat room, and Patrick covers, "Who cares what a bunch of bloggers think, right?" If they were BLOGGERS, they would be on their BLOGS, POSTING about Marin; these are chatters, the lowest form of life on the internet. Well, except for writers of fanfic. Marin comes around to look, and reads the latest line: "'Marin Frist rumoured dead'? I don't think so, Allynyc." Patrick says that they've been talking about a couple of appearances Marin's missed, and suddenly Marin's logged in as "guest_034" to type, "Hey guys, Marin here --" And of course, that's immediately followed by other chatting wiseacres: "oh, yeah I'm Marin too!" "me too!" Hee. Marin's amused, and tries to type, "No, it really is me," but before she can, the moderator kicks her out. Ha! I love it. Rules help control the fun! If Tammy Lynn Michaels is watching this episode, it's probably bringing back a lot of painful memories. We get a close-up of Patrick's screen to show the boot message, and I have to give a shout-out to whichever member of the MIT staff was responsible for usernames like "tallT@les" and "mdleagdnsxy." I applaud your attention to detail and your efforts at verisimilitude. Marin is horrified to have been kicked out of her own chat room. Maybe Marin could have avoided this by having a username with a password that the moderator could have confirmed was actually her? I'm just spitballing, here. If they couldn't be entirely accurate in their portrayal of official online resources, at least they got the dorky-ass handles right.
Later, Marin's walking down the street, talking to Jane on her cell phone: "Did you know I'm dead in New York?" Jane, distracted by papers she has to sign and actual work she has to do, is like, "Oh yeah, that." Marin is stunned that this rumour could have started over just a couple of missed appearances, and Jane replies, "It was Oprah. Remember Oprah? The show the old Marin was dying to be on? It's like standing up the Dalai Lama!" Jane, I promise you, in a few months people are going to be watching Oprah going on and on about the law of attraction in every other episode that doesn't contain four segments on hip-hop dancing and wonder how the hell she became so rich and powerful in the first place. TRUST ME. Jane adds that Marin's sales have gone way up since her rumoured demise (which kind of explains why Jane wasn't in a big hurry to correct the official record). Marin doesn't think that her elevated sales should make her feel better about her pretend death -- I guess because fancy handbags grow on trees up north -- but Jane says it's her job to spin: "And no one bought the rehab story." Marin can't believe Jane tried to start a counter-rumour (and one that is actually more damaging to her image than mere death would be); Jane says it didn't stick. Marin: "How are you going to promote my third book if I'm dead?" Jane: "[awkward silence]" Marin: "[waits for other shoe to drop]" Jane: "They cancelled your third book." Marin can't believe it, even though Jane quite rightly points out that the publisher thought it was getting a book on marriage, and now Marin's not getting married. I just want to add, again, that Jane keeps talking about the "publisher" of Marin's book as "they," even though if she were Marin's editor -- which she keeps reminding us she is -- the publisher would be...her boss. Why they didn't just make Jane Marin's agent, when everything she does for Marin is agent work, I really do not know. Maybe they focus-grouped it and people thought agents were sleazy liars, like we used to think lawyers were. Or, are, if the promos I've seen for Boston Legal are any indication. Marin says that it's not her fault she's not getting married, and Jane agrees, but says the publishers "want what they paid for." Grrr. Marin says, "They paid for me, and I'm still me, last time I checked." What? You're not a brand, you idiot. They bought your idea (such as it was); they'll just find some other affianced bint and have her write a marrage book full of car metaphors. Jane mutters, "You're not exactly you anymore, are you?...You're living in Alaska!" "Visiting Alaska!" Marin strains. "I am still me." Jane says she'll alert the media. No, she won't! Book sales!
Chieftain. Marin mopes. Buzz and Jerome chat about Franklin; Buzz realizes that his death makes them a couple of the oldest dudes in town. "I'll have to start my memoirs," deadpans Jerome. Jack appears, saying he just came from Franklin's house, and that Franklin wanted Buzz and Jerome to have the contents of the paper bag he sets on the bar before them. Marin, down the bar, openly eavesdrops as Buzz pulls out several old pin-up magazines. "Bettie Page -- classic," says Ben appreciatively. "Franklin had porn!" Marin butts in. Buzz doesn't seem to think it's such a great bequest: "He thinks this is a gift? These were mine!" Wah wah. "I don't need the details," says Jack modestly, turning to leave. Jerome calls him back, saying that he and Buzz have something to discuss with Jack. Buzz says that although they all took "a hard hit" with Franklin's passing, Jack's may have been the hardest, since Franklin raised him after Jack's father died. Oh my God, James Tupper looks so convincingly sad in this freeze-frame that I kind of want to clutch him to my bosom, and not in a dirty way. Well, maybe in a chaste way that takes a turn. Buzz says that Franklin stepped up for "Round 1," so he and Jerome figured it was their turn. They array themselves shoulder to shoulder, very seriously, as Buzz announces, "We're your new dads." Jerome puts a hand on Buzz's shoulder, which Buzz pats. Hee. Marin smirks. Jack sort of chuckles that they don't have to do that, but Ben puts on a comedy southern accent to pour a shot for Jack and his "kin." Marin thinks it's sweet: "Jack has two dads." Jack says he doesn't think he needs a dad anymore. Buzz says, "You're never too old to need a dad," which is kind of funny given later events involving him this season.
Talk turns to Franklin's headstone, and Buzz says he already knows what he wants on his: "'Buzz Was A Pilot. If You Didn't Know That, You Didn't Know Me.'" Well, are you talking about yourself in the third person on your tombstone from the afterlife or not, Buzz? Make up your mind -- don't be like the Monkees in "Sometime In The Morning." (I first heard that song like fifteen years ago and I'm still not over it.) Anyway, Ben is fine if his marker reads "Ben: A Decent Guy." Theresa says that when she was in a band, all she wanted was to die famous. No one responds -- I'm kind of getting the vibe that the dudes are not Theresa fans -- leaving it to Marin to be all, "You were in a band?" Theresa says it didn't live up to the dream, and adds that her epitaph could be "Theresa: Her Fries Were Never Soggy." That's not what I heard from Gary, OH! The guys chuckle, and Theresa asks what'll go on Marin's tombstone. Marin self-pities that, given the cancellation of her third book, it'll probably be something like "Loser." Eh, that would have been apropos even before they shitcanned it. Everyone lets the awkward settle for a moment, and Marin goes on: "I thought I was just up here gathering my thoughts...I guess you can't ask anybody to save you a seat in New York." It's not really New York's fault that you're a flaky buffoon, Marin, but...okay. "I've been gone five minutes and my fans think I'm dead," Marin adds ruefully. "May you rest," says Jerome, raising his shot. Jack ill-advisedly prompts Marin to talk more about her recent failure, and Marin says she knows that her books were no big deal in the grand scheme, but that she liked writing them, and was happy when "people came together" as a result of them: "Then I fell apart." "Good news is, women don't need a job to be happy," Buzz declares. Marin: "Oh, hello 1950. Nice to meet you -- I'm 2006." Jerome says that women don't need paycheques; they've got "family and kids and hand creams and stuff." I would take offense to that, but I do collect Body Shop body butters in fear that they'll discontinue my favourite scents. I may have a couple of drawers in the towel cabinet that I refer to as "the stock room." It's...kind of a problem. Marin complains that she doesn't have anything Jerome just listed (I'm so sure she's not fully set up with either Kiehl's or Dr. Haushka -- as if), and Jack reminds her, "At least you're still breathing." Marin agrees, adding that she's not just going to take the publisher's rejection without a fight: "No one can tell me I'm not that girl anymore!" "Okay," says Jack, amused by the crazy lady, but not especially interested, per usual.
Town meeting! The hall is packed. Marin, arriving with Patrick, asks who the hell all these new people are, and learns that they're from Pakuma; Patrick is super-excited about seeing them, saying that Pakuma (collectively, I guess) is like his favourite uncle. A Pakuman guy takes the podium, and all the Elmonites intone, "Greetings, Pakuma." "That's my favourite part," Patrick whispers to Marin, who immediately leaps up like she owns the place, announcing that she has some "post office issues." Among many, many others. The guy doesn't care. He says that Pakuma can't help throw the New Moon Festival this year because they "want to break up." There's an uncomfortable silence. Marin's like, "Is...this going to delay me talking about my package?" Mayor Pakuma (or whoever he is) says he heard that Elmo just lost another one of its men. Doug, a guy we've never seen before in a white uniform shirt of some sort, yells, "Don't drag Franklin into this!" "You don't even count as a town anymore," says Mayor Pakuma. "You're a village. And we can't be associated with no village. Pakuma's going places." "In a handbasket," mutters Buzz. Mayor Pakuma lists the signs of Pakuma's boom: "Cost-Mart" is coming in a month, and a Sam Forrester just knocked up some girl. Patrick dorkily expresses his horror at losing his favourite uncle, and Marin says that if Elmo has become a village instead of a town, it's not Elmo's fault. (Get it? Last week Marin was a skunk; this week, she's a municipality.) Doug says that Elmo and Pakuma have been yoked together for years: "We helped rebuild Pakuma after that fire in '83, and this is the thanks we get?" Elmo, you might be better off; Pakuma seems like a dick. Mayor Pakuma's like, "That's what I mean. We can't talk to you people." He stomps offstage, and all of Pakuma goes with him, leaving the Elmonites we know sitting there, stunned. Annie can't believe this is all because of a change in population: "Can't you just count Marin and me?" "Slow down, sister," says Marin, who's still insisting that she's just there on sabbatical. Patrick says he already added Annie, but then "that crabber" died (who?), and Franklin died, so it was still a net loss. He turns to Marin: "What are we supposed to do now? Who are we if we're not Pakuma's sister town?" GET IT?! The men of Elmo sadly mill about, lost. Marin gets up to make a big old speech and buck everyone up: no one deserves to be dumped the way Elmo just was. Marin's going to find Elmo a new and better town: "One who appreciates you for who you really are." Patrick and Annie volunteer to help. Yeah, that's gonna sweeten the deal.
Okay, so now it's night in Elmo as people leave the meeting -- full dark, not just dusky -- and Marin is on the phone with Jane. Who's still in her office. I know she's a pitiful single woman and all, but it would be after midnight in New York. You work in publishing, Jane, not at the Pentagon. GO HOME. Anyway, Marin is telling Jane about her new project, only she's spinning that it'll be proof that she's such a great matchmaker, she can set up a whole town: "I'll write an article about it, we'll sell it to the monthlies; I'll be alive again!" Jane doesn't seem to think this is the genius idea Marin does, and condescendingly says that Marin doesn't have to "power through" this: "It's okay if you don't work for a while!" "It's not work, it's my life!" squeaks Marin. She says she knows that writing the article would prove to the world that she's still alive, but that it would prove it to herself, as well. Jane clips that if Marin's going to get "all feisty" about it, she won't stand in Marin's way. She adds that Marin shouldn't feel like she has to be "Marin Frist, the Second Coming": "No one expects you to be that girl right now." Marin starts to say she has her own expectations of herself to consider, but before she can get into it with Jane...
...Mai hurries past. Marin is struck by her appearance and gives chase, but Mai is clearly not trying to hear Marin calling out to her. "My coat's on Mai!" says Marin into her phone. (I'll spare you the high-larious "Who's On First"-ish "my"/"Mai" sequence.) Marin hangs up and stomps up to confront Mai, calling her "Buzz's wife" even though we JUST heard her saying Mai's name several times. Mai scurries off, but can't get far (it's not a very big hall), so when Marin asks where she got the coat, Mai grimaces to herself, and then turns around to say it was in the lost and found, which is where everything goes that stays in the post office longer than twenty-four hours. Marin says she's not leaving without her coat, though she...should. It's a busy pattern trimmed with gigantic swatches of fur, like a bunch of rabbits scattered on a rug. Mai starts looking shifty, but then Marin has to ruin it by being patronizing and obnoxious: "See, that's my going-out coat. My meet-my-editor-in-Soho- and-have-drinks-at-60-Thompson coat. It is not your, uh, walking-around- in-the-middle-of-nowhere- and-talking-to-no-one coat." You know, it's enough shame on her that she took goods that are rightfully yours, Marin. You don't have to be an asshole about how she isn't important enough to wear STOLEN MERCHANDISE. Mai relents, handing it over as she points out, "You're in the middle of nowhere too, you know!" Marin says that now she can pretend she's not. As Mai stomps past her, Marin has a realization: "That's my sweater!" Ew, it is? With the nude cutout surplice and the Crown Royal marble bag purple? Well, just go to Cost-Mart when it moves into Pakuma and get another one for $7.
Chieftain. Theresa is stocking jars of...something in the back room when Ben comes up to talk to her about a joint burial plot they bought right after they got married: "Maybe we should get rid of it." Theresa looks sad, and Ben quickly says he could get a smaller plot, or sell her half, or something. Theresa recovers her hard candy shell to joke, "Sell my half? You getting offers?" Ben says he's just asking what she wants to do, in case they break up for good and no longer want to spend eternity together. Theresa ponders that. And the jars of...I want to say tomato sauce?
Inn. Ah, so there WAS a reason we had to learn Doug's name; he's just wrapping up a visit with Sara, who asks if he brought the EMS paperwork. Ah -- the uniform was EMS! Of course. Anyway, Doug's like, "Eh?" Sara reminds him that she wanted to sign up for the courses, and he says he thought she was just making conversation. Sara's face falls, but she recovers and says she really wants to try -- she thinks she'd be good at it. Doug replies, "Come on -- isn't it enough to be great at one thing?" Why is everyone in this episode so patronizing?
At the Chieftain, Marin is leading some sort of planning session regarding the hunt for Elmo's new sister city. She reminds the assembled Elmonites that it's not enough for a town to be available; they need to consider what they want out of a relationship. Annie, consulting a guidebook, suggests Tala, which has a hot spring, but Jerome says that five of its townspeople "mysteriously disappeared," and all that was left were some chickens. Huh. Ben says that Dakota has the 1982 chess champion, and a laundromat. I was going to ask where Elmo launders its clothes, if it doesn't have a laundromat, but I guess if it also has only one apartment, people do it at home. Or, because they're men, they just don't, and hope for the best. Anyway, Marin's feeling Mitexi, which is nearby and has a large female population; everyone else jumps on board with Mitexi. Marin asks what they do , and Patrick quotes Marin when he says they should ask Mitexi out, remaining cool and confident. "How do you ask a town out?" asks Buzz. Call up the mayor and say you have 250 extra tickets to a matinee? Marin takes the guidebook over to the Chieftain phone and dials the Mitexi town hall (I'm so sure the number for the TOWN HALL would be in, like, Fodor's Alaska book) and tells the person who picks up that she's calling from Elmo. After a pause: "You heard?...Well, yes, it was shocking...Their loss!" The assembled townspeople perk up at the turn the conversation's apparently taken. Marin suggests getting together the day. I hope Mitexi isn't a Rules town!
The day, Marin is rooting through the lost & found bin for more of her clothes, apparently finding nothing of hers, but snagging a giant fisherman's sweater and a dull brown (but warm-looking) coat. "So, kind of like the Barney's sale," she New Yorks. Sweetie, you'll never pull it off.
Marin shows up at Mai's, saying that she stopped by the lost & found but didn't find any of her clothes there. Mai invites her in, leading her to a rolling rack of clothes in the living room. Marin: "Is this...a duty-free shop?" Mai folds her arms: "Small business. I get a tax write-off." Marin compliments her for being savvy, but recommends that they just face the facts: "All of these are mine, and I am cold." Mai shrugs, "So, buy a sweater." Marin grabs a sleeve: "I bought this one last fall." Mai quotes her $200. Marin: "I got it for $80 at a sample sale!" Mai wants to know why, if Marin loved her clothes so much, she left them behind. "I didn't think I'd be here this long," Marin huffs. Mai feels that: "When Buzz said he was bringing me to America, I thought he meant New York City! Instead, he brought me here. I almost turned around and went back." She loved Buzz too much, so now her living room, with all its designer splendors, is her New York. Marin suggests that Mai give "a couple of boroughs" back to her. Hey, Marin, if you're so cold, why'd you leave the front door wide open? Was it to show us the lush front yard, all green and summery? Probably not. Mai bitterly agrees, handing her a sweater and what looks like a blouse? Marin also snatches her bag off a table...and then Marins right into a puddle on her way out. Girl, why don't you look where you're going once in a while?
At the previously unseen general store, Marin considers mukluks. Jack appears, taking in her magic flying coat, and she asks what a girl has to do to get a salesperson to help her. "Go to New York?" offers Jack. Man, he cannot wait to get her ass out of Dodge. Marin looks like he just slapped her, and he adds, "It's self-service." She sits, and Jack squats down to help her, matter-of-factly, into her mukluks. She says they're "sturdy" (they're not, really; they're like high-top moccasins. They are warm, though), and Jack says that it must be weird for her, not being three inches off the ground: "Take a second. Get your land legs back." Hee. Marin thanks him for his help, and he asks her to return the favour: "I'm trying to put something together for Franklin's eulogy, and I kind of got stuck." Yes, who better to help honour Franklin's memory than MARIN? Get ready for a big, long, overwrought eulogy about how Franklin is like...well, she's done driving -- how about a hat, or a brooch, or a pterodactyl? Marin is dumbstruck (for once), but it's only for a second, and she recovers to ask, "Who was he? What did he do for a living?" Jack says he liked to sit on bench on the corner and shoot the breeze. Marin asks about travel or music, but Jack says he pretty much lived on that bench, and was deaf in one ear. Before Marin can ask what kind of wine Franklin liked, or whether he preferred to drive to the Hamptons or take the jitney, Buzz and Jerome walk in, loudly greeting Jack as "son" and saying they've been looking all over for him. Buzz: "We on for dinner on Friday?" "Yeah, what are you making?" asks Jerome excitedly. Buzz tells him that they make dinner for Jack, like Franklin used to do every Friday. Jack says he'll get back to them. His dads start to leave, but then Buzz turns back and casually passes Jack a folded bill, suggesting with a wink that he buy "another ball of twine." Marin asks Jack, "No dinner?" He says he used to do it with Franklin, but that he's not really an "every Friday night dinner kind of guy." Marin thinks she has Jack pegged: "'Don't make any plans.' 'Don't count on me.' You're that 'I don't need anybody,' crawl-into-a-cave guy." Jack snorts: "Catchy. Is that in your new book?" Marin, stung, says that everyone likes to sit down with someone and enjoy a meal from time to time: "It's all right to admit it." Jack nods: "Thanks, Coach. You're still a coach, right?" Marin, indicating her new mukluks, says she is, "from the calves up."
In her truck, Marin reviews the Mitexi plan of attack with Patrick and Annie: they should compliment and flirt; pick a moment to make a move ("A man never touches a woman unless he means business"); and don't talk about the ex. "Pakuma," says Patrick wistfully, shaking his head. Maybe it's too soon for him to be looking for a new town. Or maybe he needs to get a grip and realize that he's just talking about planning a shitty street fair.
Mitexi. Wow, it's the Kuntry Kraft homeworld! It's like fifteen B&Bs threw up in this place. That's really just...a lot of tearose wallpaper. Anyway, Marin confidently strides in, mukluks and all, followed by Patrick and Annie. They freeze in the threshold at the sight of a pair of the Mitexi town mothers, all decked out in appliquéd vests and frosty eyeshadow. "Yikes -- Golden Girls!" says Patrick. "Don't judge," mutters Marin through clenched teeth. And if you're going to, at least make accurate judgments; Bea Arthur is way cooler than either of these Cold Case fans. The gals -- Pam and Barbara -- warmly introduce themselves to the Elmonites. Glancing judgmentally down at Marin's mukluks, Pam pleasantly says they thought she was "a New York City girl!" Marin spins that she's mixing and matching: "Trying the local wares!" Pam says that Marin should shop in Mitexi, and that Pam and Barbara will happily be her personal shoppers. Careful, Marin; these ladies look like they'd find JC Penney too avant-garde. Marin cheerfully says she can tell that Pam's a whiz with a glue gun, and everyone laughs and settles in for tea. Marin nods at Patrick, who produces a can from his pocket: "Our best smoked trout! Not that yours isn't smokin'." Pam and Barbara coo over it, but say they haven't smoked fish in a while: "Not with the men gone." Annie asks where they went, and Barbara says that "the sea took most of them, except Pam's husband; he left on his own." Pam's like, "Um, thanks." Annie quickly apologizes, and Patrick murmurs that Pakuma "had a sea": "That's one shoreline I'll never walk along again." Marin smacks him in the chest to shut him up, and says they're better off for the split with Pakuma, explaining to Barbara and Pam, "It prepared us to meet you!" "The timing does feel right," Barbara agrees. Pam doesn't want to go through another winter alone. Marin says she shouldn't have to...
...and then in walks Tiffini, kneeling to set a tray of pastries on the table and shooting Patrick a saucy smirk, even though they totally hated each other on their date. Annie glares at her as Barbara reports that Tiffini was "Miss Forget-Me-Not two years running." "You...live here?" Annie sputters. She leans behind Tiffini to hiss to Patrick, "Did you know that?" He swears he didn't. Why would he? Why would he care where she lives? THEY HATE EACH OTHER. Tiffini pats Patrick's knee: "How's it going, Slim?" Patrick smoothly tells her that he's there about the "legendary" New Moon Festival: "Lookin' for someone to share it with -- you interested?" "Just might be," sasses Tiffini. Annie grits that she'll love it: "Everyone will be there, including me. I WILL BE THERE." Ain't no insecurity like naked insecurity. As Patrick and Tiffini inexplicably continue eye-flirting, Marin tries to get the discussion back on track by saying that they're happy to be in Mitexi. Patrick takes an eyelash off Tiffini's cheek, and when she sensually puckers to blow it off, Annie leaps up, flapping her arms, to bring the "great date" to a close. Pam and Barbara follow suit, saying they have to be going: "We have a three o'clock with Tala." "The chicken town?!" freaks Patrick. Marin, seeing her perfect match slipping away, blathers that the Mitexicans should come to Elmo and see what they've done with Main Street: "Very happening, very now." Some of the stores are open until 6! "We'll call you," Pam grins. Patrick stumbles forward to shake Pam's hand and ends up in an awkward hug. "Back pat -- not good," he mutters to Marin. As the Elmonites leave, Pam and Barbara subtly shake their heads at each other.
Chieftain. Jack is at the bar, laughing with Buzz and Jerome, when Buzz suggests that he buy his "old man" another drink. Jerome notes that he's getting low too. Jack, dutifully reaching for his wallet, says that his dads are "getting expensive," and Buzz tells him that when he gets older, he'll have a son who'll take him out and get him drunk. "Better get on that," murmurs Jerome. "Get on what?" asks Jack, distractedly. "You'll be old before you know it," says Jerome. "Things start giving out on you." "Amen," Buzz agrees. Jack looks stricken at the idea that his junk might stop working before he gets a chance to sire his own chumpy son to mooch off. Buzz complains that he used to be able to run five miles, but now is cursed with bones that sound like bubble wrap. I hear that -- should my jaw really make this much noise? I'm not even in my mid-thirties! Jerome says that he can barely lift a gallon jug, and Jack's like, "Okay, you're falling apart. Noted." Buzz wants to know when he became "the old guy." Circa The West Wing? Ben says that they're all changing, clumsily segueing, "I used to fire hundreds of people in one fell swoop. Now I'm waiting around to see if one woman wants to fire me." Yeah, those were the good old days, when you got to ruin a whole bunch of people's lives in a day. Is this really what TV writers think businesspeople find satisfying? Maybe it is among network suits. "When did I become the weak guy?" Ben wants to know. Jack says he's not weak, he's just... No one wants to finish the sentence, so Ben's like, "'Whipped'?" Everyone's silence is like, "You said it."
Inn. Marin gets dressed in her winter clothes, but soon discovers that her carpet coat won't close over her thick pink sweater. Lose the sweater! It looks like it came from the Newport News catalogue, like, ten years ago. Instead, she puts on the lost & found coat with a big old belt over it. Eh, not bad, but in terms of remaking vintage, she's no Jay McCarroll.
At the store, Marin ponders something called a "Hot Spot," a reflector of some sort. Jack comes over to ask if she's going night fishing, and she brightly replies that she is -- "for a date!" She's going to do something with these, and flowers, to make garlands, to spruce up the town, in case she actually can manage to rook the Mitexicans into coming by. You know they like Kuntry Krafts; what you should be investing in is stencils of ducks surrounded by hearts and butterflies, and then just paint them on every single flat surface, up to and including Annie's forehead. "So we have you to thank for the new shiny stoplight?" asks Jack. Marin shrugs that you can't give a town a cute post-breakup haircut. Heh. Jack gazes at the coat, and Marin sheepishly flutters that she couldn't get her old coat to close. "That's Franklin's coat," breathes Jack. "It's a great coat," says Marin haltingly. "It's warm, and it smells good -- pine and woodsmoke and...something else." "Spaghetti," says Jack. "YES," says Marin. Jack says that Franklin always wore the coat when he was cooking, because he never wanted to raise the thermostat: "Every Friday was spaghetti." He steps forward to grab the right sleeve, and shows Marin where Franklin once caught his elbow in the flame. Marin smiles. Jack says that dinner with Franklin was always "burnt spaghetti, one sad candle, a couple of beers...some good stories." His brow tightens, just a little, and he adds, "It was great." "Maybe that's what you should talk about," Marin suggests, referring to the eulogy -- the Friday nights; the memories: "He's still a part of you." Jack smiles sadly, and turns up the collar. "I'm sorry you lost him," Marin says simply. "The coat works," he assures her. Marin pulls the collar close around her neck, and gets another big old whiff of Franklin -- perhaps detecting Rub A535 and Werther's Originals.
Chieftain. Marin plops down on a stool to Patrick to ask for some good news about Mitexi. Patrick reports that there's only been "radio silence." He goes to the dating loser's playbook to wonder if Mitexicans lost the Elmonites' number: "Maybe we should call them, and if they answer, we hang up!" Marin asks what they do if the Mitexicans *69 them, and as Patrick starts to muse about an answer, he's pulled up short by the sight of Annie tottering into the bar in a tight blouse, tight skirt (it's also short, but her regular skirts are pretty short, too), very high heels, and two drugstore aisles' worth of makeup. Marin notices that she's lost Patrick's attention, and turns around to get a load of Annie. (Just to give you an idea of what we're looking at: the soundtrack is playing "Brick House.") Nice gams, Bergl.
After the break, Annie is still the center of attention at the Chieftain, teetering on her shoes like Bambi on the ice. And it's precisely that hot. Patrick comes over to make sure she's okay: "Your sternum's just flappin' in the breeze." Annie looks down, coquettishly. Patrick's like, "What's with the heels?" Marin: "Are those MINE?!" Annie apologetically says she bought them from Mai. She disingenuously says she thought Patrick would like this look, since he liked it so much on Tiffini. "Tiffini with the crazy Hallowe'en eyes?" sputters Patrick. Annie tells him not to pretend he didn't like Tiffini (even though he totally, totally didn't), and complains that she thought this whole time that Patrick was "Shy Guy," but that she could work with that -- embrace it, even: "But the first time you saw that little MUKslut, you warmed right up!" "Hey now," says Patrick. "When someone has an eyelash, you let 'em make a wish. It's just common decency!" He defends that he just did it to Theresa the other day. Theresa confirms that he did, and doesn't add that she wished for Patrick to suck her toes. In fact, she says, "It was creepy." Hee! Annie stomps over to Marin to try to get her to back Annie up that "a man never touches a woman by accident." Marin hesitantly says that Annie's "not entirely wrong," but adds in a whisper that she doesn't think Tiffini is Patrick's type. "Who cares what type the girl is when her skirt's so short you can see her whatnots?" What the hell word could she be euphemisming out in the plural? "Genitals"? "Labia"? "Ovaries"? All the dudes in the bar are pretty happy at the mere mention of whatnots, whatever the hell they are. Patrick steps forward so that they can take the conversation down to a less public volume and does up Annie's buttons, saying he likes them because they give him something to look forward to. He also likes her normal shoes, since he's always taller than she is in them. He is taller than she is when she wears them, I mean, though I wouldn't be shocked at a future episode in which "Shy Guy" is revealed to be a secret transvestite. Patrick also likes Annie's virtually perfect skin: "You don't need all that stuff." He adds, "The only reason I touched that girl's eyelash is that it was freaking me out!" Annie snickers, they kiss, the bar celebrates, all the patrons update their blogs.
Theresa enters the kitchen to find Ben, who announces that he sold the burial plot. "I hadn't really decided yet," says Theresa hoarsely. "I decided," says Ben, not as dickishly as you might think. He tells her that if she's not ready to be with him in life, then eternity is probably too much to expect. "Well, you sold my space," says Theresa, smiling to try to play it off like she doesn't care. "Our space," Ben corrects her. "I sold the whole thing." "You don't want to die in Elmo?" asks Theresa. Jesus, does anyone? At least kick off somewhere that people can buy cute outfits for the funeral. "I'll decide when I get there," says Ben. Theresa seems entirely shocked at this turn of events. You know, I would think she might be a little more worried about where she's parking it in this life, given that she's still shacked up with her ex, than she is about the location she intends to spend decomposing. Do people really care that much about where they're going to be buried when they're in their thirties? Should I have a pre-need arrangement right now? Am I less together than a fictional bartender?
Sara sits down to Marin at the bar, smiling huge. Marin sighs at her blouse: "Oh, nice. Mai?" Sara's like, "Oh, right. Sorry to scavenge your stuff just because we quirky townies have no concept of ownership." Marin asks whether she signed up for the EMS course, and Sara says she didn't. Marin is dismayed, but before she can get into her friend's career crisis, she's distracted by Patrick shouting the really important business from the end of the bar: "Mitexi called for a second date!" Everyone rejoices. Not shown: Sara sadly scanning the bar for her gross client.
Some other day, Marin shows up, in her Franklin coat and general-store mukluks, bellowing for Mai. Marin calls her out for wearing her "Dolce pants," at which Mai skitters into the house. Marin runs up to the door -- naturally, stepping in the puddle on the way there. I like to think that it actually dried out since the last time Marin was there, but Mai refilled it, like a makeshift Marin-repelling moat. But even sunk ankle-deep in it, Marin's excited to learn that her foot isn't affected. Which...I'm not sure I quite believe that; mukluks are made of fur and suede and stuff; they might be warm, but it seems like they wouldn't be waterproof. Anyway, Marin pounds on the door. Mai opens it: "No freebies today." Marin says she needs more of her things. She has a second date with Mitexi: having spent days tidying up Elmo, she needs sprucing up herself. "Too late for you" is Mai's appraisal. Hee! She walks over to her "small business," and Marin follows. Mai says that Marin had her chance. She's seen Marin in magazines, "at the parties, holding champagne glasses, wearing the very tall shoes. Yeah -- you were living my dream. And then you just ran away from it!" Marin: "Technically, it cheated on me, but I see your point." She says that the clothes were great (a lot of them still are!) and that the parties were fun, but that her New York life wasn't perfect: "Some of those dresses were borrowed. And the shoes were very tight. Bad for the back, really." Mai, folding her arms, doesn't really seem to be buying it: "You looked happy to me." Marin spins a sad yarn about how going off to teach people how to have happy relationships gradually killed her own, and she never saw her friends, and blah blah blah. As Marin sadly gazes at her clothes, Mai asks, "If you're not gonna be that girl anymore, who are you gonna be?" Marin swallows hard, and tearily admits, "I have no idea!" Moving toward the door, she tells Mai to keep the sweater. Yeah, that wispy old thing doesn't look that warm anyway.
Marin hangs up her stupid Hot Spots garland. Patrick and Annie look on appreciatively, and then Pam and Barbara are there, and the three Elmonites are trying (and kind of failing) to play it cool. Patrick presents them with a basket of his own muffins. Pam nudges Barbara, and they make for the Chieftain, nattering to each other that it isn't much, but that they can make do. Annie breathlessly says that it's freshly painted -- she personally shined the stoplight! Barbara suggests a few garden gnomes to brighten up a corner by the Chieftain (a woman after Glark's heart -- he's never seen a space he couldn't pack with knickknacks and crap), and Marin hesitantly explains that the spot she's pointing to is where the men usually put their chainsaws before entering the bar. Pam's and Barbara's faces fall, and they move on. "Not helping," Patrick snaps at Marin. Maybe not, but for God's sake, the chainsaws need a place to lean. Maybe Pam and Barbara can crochet some baskets for the chainsaws to hang in.
After the commercials, Pam and Barbara are still taking their walking tour of Elmo, now arriving at the empty lot across from the Chieftain, pointing at a bench on which Buzz and Jerome are currently loitering, and saying they could get rid of it. Barbara and Pam would rather see a couple of rocking chairs (...outside?), but Marin says that the bench was Franklin's: "The bench stays." Pam and Barbara, not knowing who the hell Franklin was, say they don't want to mess with Jerome and Buzz: "They're not bad." Marin: "'Not bad'?" Barbara, matter-of-factly: "We can't really afford to be picky anymore." Jack and Ben roll up just in time for Marin to launch into her meta-rant: "These men are great! The whole town is." Pam reminds her that it's a village. Marin: "Maybe it takes a village to tell a town to go to hell." Hey, um...you've been here for five minutes, Marin. Maybe it's more important to the longtime residents of Elmo to make nice with Mitexi than it is for them to see you "get your power back" a-fucking-GAIN. Pam and Barbara are shocked at this kind of language, but Marin's not actually talking about Elmo anyway: "Who are you, Miss Glue Gun, to tell us we're not a town anymore? We lost someone, to old age, 'cause when people come here, they tend to stick around. A millionaire [indicating Ben] left his empire to find happiness here. A pilot in Elmo [head nod for Buzz] gets to fly his plane whenever he wants, 'cause he's his own boss here. A girl [fucking Annie] who was searching for love in the wrong places found the right man in moments. Things like that happen here. In Elmo, people get to be who they really are. We don't need the shiny stoplights or the Dolce pants. So I suggest you ladies go on back to Mitexi. 'Cause we've got a festival to throw, and no one likes a sequined party crasher!" Hey now. They're assholes AND they dress bad; the two are not necessarily related. Pam and Barbara suck their cheeks and take off.
Sara looks on as Pam and Barbara strut off, the latter clucking that the Elmonites dug their own grave. Pam starts to answer, but aspirates a chunk of Patrick's muffin and starts choking. Sara comes through in the clutch, rushing forward to Heimlich Pam. She hoarsely says that Sara saved her life, and Sara proudly replies, "Us Elmo women aren't half-bad, either." Pam says they should rethink "this whole sister city thing after all." Sara, hands on hips, says she thinks it's time the citizens of Elmo "went off on our own." She ambles back to Marin & Co., in her American Eagle jeans (which I totally also have). She high-fives Marin, who smiles delightedly. "So you're tending to stick around, huh?" Jack asks Marin. "Tending to," she agrees.
New Moon Festival. Maybe Marin could have spent less on reflector garlands and invested in a couple of outdoor lights? It's dark and creepy, although I guess if the town doesn't have a lot of women in it, they don't have to plan for an event that isn't full of treacherous corners for them to get...well, raped in. I mean, seriously, it's that dark. Marin, leaning against a street sign, doesn't seem too impressed with the festivities (apparently the only source of heat and light is a fire made of burning tires?). She tells Theresa she can't believe she tried to force Mitexi on Elmo, and Theresa points out that she didn't; she stopped it. Marin (rather unnecessarily) says she thinks she was trying to feel better about who she was, and Theresa says she didn't know Marin when she was "from away" and "wrote a lot of books," but that the Marin she knows now made a lot of people feel good. "Is that a career?" asks Marin ruefully. "Around here, it could be," says Theresa. Yeah, just ask Sara.
Jerome, Jack, and Buzz enjoy Franklin's bench. Jack says that he was hoping they could help with the funeral, and Buzz says the thing about family is that you don't have to ask. Jack, half-smiling, asks if they're still on for Friday night, and Buzz says he's making enchilada casserole. He doesn't add that he's making it out of Marin's old culottes. Marin comes over to girl everything up, saying that it's a nice night, and the consensus seems to be that the only thing missing is Franklin. Jerome says there isn't much point having the Polar Bear Swim without him. "Who says?" challenges Marin.
Presidential suite. Marin's cell phone rings, and somehow it's morning in both New York and Alaska (LEARN HOW TIME ZONES WORK, SHOW) as Jane asks for the latest: "Did the new town leave the old town for a younger town yet?" Marin says it's a long story, and Jane says they can make it a set-up article for her two-parter. Marin demurs, and Jane asks if she's going to play dead a little longer. "Not quite," Marin replies, and says she'll get back to Jane, hanging up. Jane clenches her jaw, as usual. Marin, leaving her carpet coat on a chair, takes off.
At the Chieftain, Jack is on stage, eulogizing that he'll remember the Friday dinners with Franklin -- the way his house smelled, the overactive cuckoo clock, and the stories about Elmo: "About my dad. Yeah, that's what's going to keep him alive for me." This speech is too simple and sweet to go on, of course, and Marin's radio voice-over takes over to say that a friend of hers recently delivered a beautiful eulogy for a friend of his: "Everyone will be remembered, and if that's the case, you have to ask yourself, how do you want your story to go?" At her desk, Marin types in the chat room: "Dear fans. Marin Frist is alive and well..." Should we hope to be remembered by what we did for a living, our accomplishments, or how we made people feel? Each day offers a new chance for us to decide who we want to be, to challenge us to be new or braver versions of ourselves -- and we see it must be true, as Sara signs up for the EMS course. Annie and Patrick take down the fucking garland, and kiss. Jack heads out in a little motorboat with Buzz and Jerome, and as Marin tells us that letting go is never easy, Jack gets up in the boat and empties the urn of Franklin's cremains into the water. Marin adds that hanging on to the past feels good: "But sometimes, it's only when you let go that you can make room for the rest of your life to show up." Marin smiles beatifically at her computer as Allynyc pronounces, "Alaska? Cool!" and Fristfan9 asks, "Are the guys hot?" They are, and they just LOVE desperate self-help-book-reading clingers! Book your flight today! Patrick changes the population of Elmo back to 233, and we cut to Marin at the radio station, blah-blahing that leaving the old you behind is hard, but when you do, it can be the most alive you've ever felt: "Standing at the jumping-off point is a weird feeling -- but not quite as weird as jumping into the ocean with a bunch of Alaskan men." And, of course, here's Marin at the head of a pack of polar bear swimmers. Man, I bet she just froze off her whatnots.