I've come to realize these past few weeks that, as a recapper, I've lead a relatively charmed life so far. Not as charmed as Demian, perhaps (I'm so very, very sorry), but nonetheless, while I was off writing about Oscar winners and shows that garner more Emmy nominations than they have actual episodes in a season, other recappers were toiling in the blazing Roswellian sun or the polluted, stagnant waters of a Wilmington Creek. I can only assume that the evident piety of my Biblical debut has somehow prompted the Lord to watch over me. I mean, even The Stalking of Laurie Show turned out to be better than I had any right to expect. But now, my friends, the gravy train has sadly derailed (and on a side note -- mmmmm, gravy!), and it is with no small degree of melancholy pride that I can now confirm that Mind of the Married Man is without any doubt whatsoever the single worst show ever recapped by MBTV. And as anyone who's ever visited the Permanent Hiatus section can attest, that's quite an impressively dubious accomplishment. Oh Lord, why hast thou forsaken me? If this is about that cheeseburger I ate on Yom Kippur, I already said I was sorry.
Anyway, here's the thing. I know people in the HBO marketing department read this site (I can tell by the way they studiously avoid returning my phone calls), so I've decided to turn the nine weeks into a personal crusade to ensure that this show never makes it past its first season. I'm too squeamish to give blood, so I figure it's the least I can do for the world in these troubled times of ours. I mean, when red-blooded heterosexual American males such as myself can't even enjoy a show featuring lesbians and tactile testicle stimulation, you just know it has to be bad. Then again, that's what they said about Howard Stern, and it doesn't seem to be stopping him.
This week's episode, such as it is, opens with the exact same shot as last week. This made me happy (at least momentarily), because I thought they might be following the Six Feet Under paradigm of opening each week with the death of a character. That would certainly be one way to improve the show. Alas, it was not meant to be, and instead we're forced to endure Mickey whining to Doug about how his wife is "cold" to his new assistant. Doug doesn't understand what he means by "cold," so Binder again does that thing where he repeatedly repeats certain repetitive words in a repetitious fashion, in the hopes that they'll eventually become funny. Note to Mike: They won't. By way of a "cold" explanation, we flash back to the day at the office, where Mickey and Missy the aforementioned assistant are all giggly that he's received a letter from the Mayor about his most recent column. Donna arrives, and basically gives Missy a well-deserved stink-eye, which is apparently what has prompted this week's paper-thin plot.
They're now joined by Jake, and they rapidly fill him in on the whole "cold" issue. Incidentally, you should note the incredible pun restraint I've been showing here (Cold front? Cold cuts? Cold sore?). Jake assesses the situation thusly: "That's too bad. I know your wife, and that means she knows you want to fuck the assistant." "Yeah?" asks Mickey. "How can she know that when I don't know it?" "You wish you didn't know that," replies Jake. Oh, don't we all. Moving on, we now turn to Doug's Dorky Dilemma Du Jour, which involves money problems with his wife. We see them arguing on a kitchen set that looks suspiciously like the one in Mickey's apartment, except with a different back wall. Jake suggests the ultimate solution to all their problems, which would be to arrange a three-way between Donna, Doug's wife, and Mickey's assistant, complete with "lots of hair, lots of negligees, [and] a lot of Greco-Roman wrestling maneuvers." We're treated to visuals of the ladies cavorting on a bed, spanking one another and giggling, while Jake continues to explain that the boys will film the whole event with their camcorders. This will enable Donna and Mickey's assistant to bond, and also provide Doug's wife with a steady source of revenue from sales of the tape. See? Problem solved. In Porno-World, maybe. Anyway, here's Mickey's big kicker for the opening scene: "And on top of that, my wife is happy that I figured out how to use the camcorder in time for Christmas." Wow, that's -- not funny. Of course, it stands to reason that the worst joke in the entire episode would play out while the "Written by: Mike Binder" credit is still on-screen. At least someone in the graphics department on this show has a sense of humor.
In the Binder Boudoir, Donna and Mickey are getting ready for bed. Mickey is all excited that he's snagged an interview with the mayor (a concept I would have mocked until I remembered Howard Stern's on-air antics with Christine Whitman. Maybe Binder is angling to have a Turnpike rest-stop named after himself. I can certainly think of less-fitting memorials for this guy than a dirty urinal), but Donna doesn't seem to care. She eventually relents, however, and describes her husband as a "mayor-interviewing stud," much to my gastrointestinal dismay. His ego thus massaged, Mickey suggests sex. Of course he does. Donna wants to check the baby first, much to Mickey's a-few-inches-lower-than-intestinal dismay. She brings the kid back into the room, and there's much folderol about changing the baby versus Mickey's need for fornication and ego gratification. We also get a shot of Daddy playing with his kid, but since you can clearly see Mike Binder thinking, "I swear to God, this little fucker better not piss on me," it kind of ruins the image. Frustrated by the lack of actual sex in his life (and, really, aren't we all), Mickey gets snippy. He asks Donna why she's so "cold" to his assistant, and she vehemently denies the allegation. Cut to later, with them in bed and continuing the conversation. Donna probes her husband (no, not like that, although I don't blame you one bit for going there) about the reason for his concern, but he just insists that he wants everyone to get along. Her curiosity satisfied, Donna asks, "Are we going to be messing around? You seemed to be making overtures." "Overtures"? Is that what the kids are calling it these days? I always thought that sort of thing would best be described as "shameless begging and a general lack of dignity." Oh well. You live and learn, I guess.
Down at the local tavern, the boys are conversing with their heretofore unseen African-American friend. Said friend is relating a story about a chick with a pierced tongue (which he calls "mouth jewelry") he's currently dating. Apparently, he couldn't "close" the deal until she saw him eating dinner with Sammy Sosa. He doesn't mind, however, because "this girl is as hot as she is shallow." Yeah, and this show is as sucky as it is shallow. And for the record, I've seen inflatable kiddie pools with more depth than this show. Mickey doesn't seem to understand the benefits of tongue-piercing (although, to be fair, it is something you need to experience to understand), and claims to be worried that his "dick [will get] cut up by a rusty piece of mouth jewelry, [and he'll] have to get a tetanus shot." The New Black Friend (or NBF for short) laughs, and replies that this is why he's not married. "There's too much crazy pussy in the world," he explains. "And every year, a whole new crop comes ripe. I'm talking Grade-A, dick-nutty, crazy pussy." I swear to God that's the actual dialogue, people. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Well, okay, I could, but I'd be too embarrassed to let anyone else read it. This show is like bad fan-fic.
After a brief, unworthy-of-description reference to Saul Bellow, it's Jake's turn to tell a dirty story. He's been hooking up with Eileen Rosenberg, the new Jewish entertainment writer at the paper. Since this is Binderworld, she's of course a gorgeous, man-gratifying slut who's just drooling for an opportunity to pleasure one of the pasty-faced misogynists Mickey calls friends. Oh, yeah. All the Jewish women I know are just like that. Some of them are even redheads, too. Apparently, Eileen finds regular sex to be "boring," and "she needs adrenaline," so she slips under the table in their restaurant and proceeds to give Jake a blowjob. Hmmm. I always thought that was supposed to be protein, not adrenaline, but whatever.
Meanwhile, back at the Binder ranch, Doug's wife Karin has come over to go jogging with Brenda. My hopes for some Baywatch-style slow-motion jiggle shots are dashed when Donna forces Karin to sit in the kitchen and answer questions about whether or not she is, in fact, "cold." "Well, you're British," responds Karin. "That's genetic, right?" She then continues by adding, "I wouldn't say you're like a huggy, touchy-feely person [much, one would assume, to Mickey's evident dismay], but you're not cold." Karin also calls Mickey "Captain Sensitivity," and suggests that Donna resolve the problem by making friends with the assistant to show everyone that she doesn't have a problem.
The office. Over a lengthy close-up of Missy's ass, we hear Mickey saying, "I didn't say all Republicans were fat and stupid. I was talking about you in particular." Despite how I might have made that sound, this particular comment was directed not at Missy's ass, but rather to some lady on the phone. Although honestly, I wouldn't really be surprised if Mike Binder actually did think Missy's ass was a Republican, because it's not like he's shown much of grasp of politics in any other sense. Missy is finally permitted to turn around and face the camera, at which point she's forced once again by the script to gush about what a great writer Mickey is. "I know great writing when I see it," she says, at which point every single viewer in America simultaneously snorts and shouts, "Clearly, you won't be seeing any on this show!" at their screens. Now Donna arrives, and she makes nice with Missy while also displaying a set of their baby's dental X-rays for Mickey's approval. Despite the fact that HBO hasn't exactly shown itself to be a paragon of good taste and sensitivity these past few weeks, I'll let the "identifying the body after a plane crash" comment here slide. Especially because it's immediately followed by yet another long, lingering close-up of some more assistant ass, and there are plenty of other things for me to mock. Before she leaves, Donna invites Missy out for a "real girl's lunch" at some restaurant called Pizano's. Missy flips out, getting all excited and claiming that she's wanted to eat at Pizano's for, like, her entire life or something. This, of course, makes me wonder why she doesn't just go there herself, since it's not like they'll only let her in if the visit has been blessed by a Binder. Then again, it's just that kind of rational, logical dissection of the show that gives me a migraine by 10:07 every Sunday night, so maybe I'll just let that one slide, too.
Back at the bar, the boys advise Mickey to put a stop to the lunch plans as quickly as possible. Jake, in fact, goes so far as to compare the situation to the First Amendment, claiming that lunch would violate Mickey's separation of "church and state." Since I think we've certainly well covered the proper application of the First Amendment in a private, non-governmental setting on the boards, I won't go into all the reasons that line doesn't make any sense. I will, however, suggest that anyone interested in more information on the subject talk to Miss Alli. If you buy her a Pop-Tart, she'll be more than happy to provide you with a lengthy discourse on the subject. Speaking, by the way, of lengthy discourse, Mickey goes on to whine about the lunch for like six months. Jake also gets to repeat his "You want to fuck this girl, don't you?" mantra another dozen times or so. Here's a sample of some of the scintillating dialogue from this scene:
Jake: You so want to fuck this girl.
Mickey: No, I don't.
Jake: Yes, you do.
Mickey: No, I don't.
Jake: You do.
If you're wondering why there are no "Conversations" in this week's recap, it's because I feel like I could never hope to compete with dialogue like that. As the bizarrely numerous legions of Mike Binder's fans have pointed out to me in about two dozen recent vituperative emails, there's a reason why I can't get a job in show business, and that reason is apparently that I'm just not as talented as Mike Binder. I guess all I can say to those people is that if you don't like the recaps, don't read the site. In other words, get out. Now.
Anyway, the day at the office. Jake fetches Mickey and Doug, and advises them to check the elevators in a few minutes, because he and Eileen are planning to have sex in one of them. "What is it with you and these women?" Mickey asks. "I'm serious. I've seen you in the shower at the gym, and it's not like you've got a third arm or anything." Yes, but does he have a third nipple? If so, given the context of the conversation, there's probably a pretty funny Scaramanga/Man With The Golden Gun pun to be made here. Jake explains that even though he's just a regular guy (size-wise, at least), he does have a "big dick mentality." He further asserts that Mickey is afflicted with "small dick mentality," which is a "killer" that "takes out more men than heart disease."
And sure enough, we now cut to the elevator doors, where the alarm is ringing. The boys slowly emerge from their offices, and listen with admiration to the strident clanging. It's perhaps worth noting that the NBF doesn't rate an office, and instead gets a cubicle out in the newsroom. I guess that Sammy Sosa interview didn't impress Memmet as much as it did the pierced-tongue chick. The elevator doors finally open, and Jake and Eileen emerge, looking guilty. They boys just keep staring until finally Memmet himself arrives in person. After watching them watch the elevators for a moment, he suggests that "maybe you guys better get back to work like your buddy Jake there." Jake, of course, is now sitting in his office, busily typing away. Oh, the irony. Oh, the humanity. Oh, my aching, bleeding eyeballs.
Important Note: Your enjoyment of the following paragraph will be greatly enhanced if you click here first.
In the Binder Bedroom, Missy is making yet another of her nocturnal emissions. Uh, I mean, appearances. She asks Mickey if he likes having a finger up his ass during sex. Eww. Shut up, Missy. Unfortunately, she follows that up with, "Or do you just like your balls rubbed?" Oh. My. God. Shut up, Missy! Mickey admits that he does, in fact, enjoy the ball rubbing, so Missy asks, "Would you like me to do that now? Could I rub your balls?" For God's sake, woman, SHUT UP! Finally, Good Taste and Sensibility emerge from their hibernation on the struck remains of the Six Feet Under sets, and convince Mickey that with Donna in the bed, now might not be the best time for a ball rubbing. Not one to be dissuaded easily, Missy suggests another plan: "How about tomorrow at work? Could I rub your balls at work?" And as yet another anvil of repetitive rubbing references smacks off my bruised and battered cranium, and I feebly moan, "Please stop, we get it," at the screen, Missy ignores my pleas and continues with the all the blah blah ballscakes. "We could get a blanket," she says, "and I could put it over your lap and rub your sweet balls on the L train." Augh! Mike Binder's balls are now firmly implanted in my brain. Despite the fact that I've already surgically removed both of my eyeballs with a flaming skewer, I don't think I'll ever be clean again. Missy finally wraps up this scene by begging for the balls one last time.
Are you drunk yet? I know I am.
Also, here's a quick sidebar: Since I know we're all adults here in this little backwater corner of MBTV, I don't have a problem admitting that while I personally do enjoy a bit of the ball rubbing myself, I still don't think it's much of a subject to base a sitcom around. But again, that's why Mike Binder gets his own show, and I'm stuck here writing book reports about it. In case you missed it, that last sentence was intended to be sarcastic. Something tells me having MBTV on my resume will go a lot farther towards helping my career than Mind of the Married Man ever could. Most of these people will probably never work again. In any case, I'm referring all further discussion of the ball rubbing topic to the "Your *cough * First Time" thread, where I'm sure the issue has been discussed at length (and knowing that thread, at girth as well).
The morning at breakfast, Mickey tries once again to convince Donna not to go to lunch with Missy. He explains that she's likely to get all clingy and Fatal Attraction-y, but this only makes Donna more suspicious. She busts out that line from the previews, saying, "I know that you know that I know that you're aware that you're absolutely full of shit." Donna, honey, we all know that one. After that outburst, they go back to eating in silence.
Moving on to the office, where Mickey is forced to order Missy to cancel her lunch with Donna. He cites the whole "church and state" argument again, but when Missy looks like she's about to cry over missing her chance to eat at Pizano's, he finally breaks down and offers to take her himself.
Another walk and talk. Doug and Mickey make their way down the street, with Doug advising Mickey to guard his mind like it's a "fortress." Oh, if only that were true. Mickey replies that the problem is that "the fortress is running eighty channels of porn eight hours a day." That, unfortunately, does seem to be true. Doug offers to tell his friend the secrets of the universe, but Mickey proclaims that he'd prefer gum instead. Yes, that's right. Gum would be perfection. Anyway, the secret of the universe (which, despite what anyone says, will always be forty-two) seems to be some sort of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo about mind over matter and thought guarding. Doug then offers to tell Mickey all about his own sex-life (please God, no), and suggests that he watch some marital videotapes which provide insight on "intimacy, and the tools a man needs to keep things fresh in his brain, as well as his shorts." "Is that a man with 'big dick mentality,' or 'little dick mentality'?" asks Mickey.
Cut to Memmet, standing silently at a urinal in the men's room. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have added the "men's room" modifier, because it's usually safe to assume that that's where the urinals are. On this show, however, you never know, so I figured it would help to point out that they are, in fact, in a bathroom. In fact, it might even be the bathroom at the Mike Binder Memorial Ball-Rubbing Rest Stop (a perennial favorite, I'm told, of George Michael). Doug comes in just in time to hear Memmet griping about the fact that his prostate resembles "an old Chicago Bears practice ball." I'm going to flatly refuse to transcribe the remainder of this scene, because it's basically two middle-aged, middle-class, middle-American white guys complaining about how tough life is for them, and how no one cares about their plight. It's rude, idiotic, patronizing, and sadly, it's more offensive than anything else on this show, including the ball rubbing. If you're going to present us with annoying, unlikable assholes, you can't expect us to feel sorry for them, especially when their only problems revolve around having to -- gasp -- actually work for a living in a world crazy enough to offer minorities opportunities for advancement. Mike Binder, you are a giant, flaming asshole. But I'm betting you already knew that, and are probably quite proud of the fact. Once Doug and Memmet leave, Kevin (the NBF) emerges from a stall, shakes his head, and sighs, "White people…" Wow. That's just about the best, most trenchant dissection of American racial politics you're ever likely to hear outside of a minstrel show.
The work day thus completed, we now cut to Mickey lounging on his sofa and watching a sexy beer ad. Meanwhile, Donna is doing laundry when she comes across the marriage tapes that Doug lent to Mickey. After some minor bickering, she forces Mickey to watch with her. The tapes feature a balding British chap babbling about things like love, intimacy, and the effect of marriage on the social fabric of civilization. Mickey describes the tapes as being like "watching a pony die." I have no idea what that means, but as a meta-comment about MoMM itself, I wholeheartedly agree. Donna demands that Mickey continue watching despite all his whining, because she feels that it's important that he provide a concrete demonstration of her love. There's a shot of them cuddled up on the sofa, and then we fade to the bedroom, where Mickey dreams that Missy and the British guy are going at it doggie-style in the doorway. British Guy is wearing his cardigan sweater vest the entire time, and I'm pretty sure he said something about having a "big dick mentality." I can't be sure, however, because I ran screaming from the room as soon as I saw the sweater vest.
The office. Mickey gathers up Missy and prepares to head out to the big lunch at Pizano's. Foreshadowing physically grabs the camera and points it at Doug for a few minutes, while Missy babbles on about how excited she is and how she wants to ask about doing research on the internet. Here's a tip for you, Missy: surf on over to Mighty Big TV. Then call your agent.
Cut to Jake, discovering that Doug's office is empty. He leads Eileen inside and closes the shades. Then we get a way-too-long shot of Eileen's hands pressed up against the office window, accompanied by grunting and rhythmic slapping noises. Eww. Eww. Ewwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!
Home at last. Mickey tries to put the baby to bed in a montage sequence featuring swearing, a cute baby, and about a half-dozen pratfalls. Then he joins Donna in the kitchen, and they again go through the what's-wrong-nothing-is-wrong routine. Finally Donna snaps and admits that she knows all about the Pizano's lunch. Then she stalks straight out of the apartment. At this point, the maid (Tilda) enters the kitchen. Mickey describes Donna as being "un poquito loco," and asks Tilda for advice on his marital woes. Tilda tells him that she and her husband don't have these sorts of problems, mainly because they're more worried about little things like paying the rent, feeding the kids, and staying in America. Barely even shamed by his own pettiness, Mickey decides to pursue Donna out into the street.
Outside, he runs right up to her (I'm not even going to wonder why she was just standing on the sidewalk all this time) and forces her to call Doug's wife on her cell phone. Karin reveals what Foreshadowing told us earlier, which is that Doug also joined Mickey and Missy for their lunch. Donna is somewhat mollified, but she's still angry. Mickey desperately tries to explain that he just needs some space and separation between work and home. Donna doesn't understand this need, and she makes a valiant (but ultimately failed) attempt at injecting actual drama into the show. "I want to be alone by myself right now," she says. "It's lot less painful than being alone with you." And as the credits run and my TiVo cuts off the last ten seconds of the episode, all I can think is that spending ANY time with Mike Binder is quite painful indeed.