Dom is going home to visit his family in Ireland, Jon tells us in a voice over, as if we couldn't have guessed from the twittering Irish flute on the soundtrack. Dom, in an interview, explains that his father is ill, and has been for quite some time. Dom muses that he feels bad for having a such good time in Los Angeles while his father is so sick back in Ireland. Jon helpfully tells the camera that Dom wants to spend some quality time with his father -- you know, considering the fact that he may not be long for this world. Dom voice-overs that he doesn't like to burden other people with his problems, just as he doesn't care to hear all about everybody else's problems. "Sometimes, all you can do is pray," he says, lighting a cigarette. I've never had a problem burdening others with my problems, petty or not, so I really don't know what he's talking about.
Daylight breaks over Los Angeles as Jon enters a large office building. He voice-overs that he sang on a demo produced for one of the Beth's friends, somehow that demo fell into the hands of a music producer, and that producer wants to meet with Jon to discuss a potential record deal. Jon twangs that he doesn't have his hopes up "too high," but he's interested to see what the producer has to say. If this were anyone other than Jon, I'd make a snide remark about the fact that his being on MTV probably had more to do with this meet-and-greet than his demo did, but Jon's such a nice boy, I can't bear to say anything rude.
Back at the house, post-interview, Dom lolls on the bed and interrogates Jon; how was the office? What was the office like? What was his name? Does he have a last name, Jon? Jon, it seems, didn't spend a whole lot of time paying attention to pesky details like names or interior decorating. Because it's all about the music, man.
Oh, time travel! Back at aforementioned interview, the producer -- a remarkably unattractive man with a full head of hair, but the world's ugliest shirt and hideous glasses -- rocks back and forth in his chair and eyes Jon. "You don't play an instrument, do you?" he asks. "I mean, you play the guitar." Since when is the guitar not an instrument? I wonder. And what other instrument should a country singer take up? The fiddle, maybe, but the guitar seems a fairly strong choice. Does this guy expect that Jon has a hidden talent for, say, the oboe? ["Maybe he's thinking of the banjo? I'm giving Ugly the benefit of the doubt." -- Wing Chun] Jon tells the producer that he does play the guitar, but that he's no longer taking lessons.
Back in his room, Jon complains to Dom that everyone he meets in the music industry tries to convince him to take up songwriting along with singing, because that's "where the money is." Jon whines that he doesn't want to write songs, he just wants to sing. In the music producer's office, he says basically the same thing. The producer raises one hairy, Michael Dukakis-style eyebrow, and tells Jon that they're not at all interested in offering him a contract. What the hell did they take a meeting with him for, then? Sit on it, producer guy! They kick poor Jon out on his ass.
Jon wanders out of producer's office building and waits for his bus back to Venice, warbling a piteous tune as he waits. Life is hard.
More bitching from Jon about not wanting to write songs, but wanting to sing songs. We get it, darling.
Jon and Banthony walk down Pacific Avenue toward the beach house, as Jon comments that he's can't write songs, because he's not at all artistic. Banthony diplomatically points out that singing is, in fact, very artistic. "I don't paint and I don't draw. I'm not an artist," Jon says, stubbornly. I think Jon is taking a very literal view of the word "artist." Patient Banthony repeats that singing is as much an expression of artistry as something tangible, like painting. Jon tells Banthony that, in fact, he doesn't have a profession at all -- nobody pays him for anything. Banthony chuckles and comments ruefully that most artists don't get paid for their art, either. On the side of one of the apartment building in Venice is a large mural of Jim Morrison -- shirt off, leather pants in effect. I remember this mural, but I think it's since been painted over, which is sort of a shame, because it's very Venetian, in the Venice, California sense of the word. ["Is that where the POW/MIA mural is now? Or was in, say, 1997?" -- Wing Chun] Jon wonders who the guy on the wall is. Banthony, thinking he's joking, laughs. She explains, kindly, but alarmed, that it's the lead singer of the Doors. "Oh," says Jon. "I really didn't know." Jon Is Naïve; I'm so very glad someone took the time to explain that extremely complicated concept to me.
Inside the beach house, Jon observes as Dom packs for Ireland. Dom voice-overs that when he was home for Christmas, his father was ill, but none of the tests the doctors ran turned up anything untoward. Dom, in an interview, admits that he privately thought that all his father needed was "a pep talk," and that he offered to give it. Dom explains, as we see him walk through the airport, that shortly after said pep talk, his father was rushed to the hospital, and told that he might not live through the night. Dom boards the plane. He admits in a voice-over that he feels guilty about the entire pep talk/near-death experience connection. Dom, sweetie, I don't think the pep talk is what landed your dad in the hospital. A few high-fives never hurt anyone. As far as I know.
Dom's plane takes off in a burst of exhaust. He voice-overs that he was extremely nervous during his flight over -- all eleven hours -- and he's really worried about seeing his father, especially about acting upbeat in the face of his father's illness.
The plane lands without incident. The Irish folk music kicks it into high gear on the soundtrack as Dom deplanes and meets his parents and sister at the gate. Dom's father looks just like him, without the crazy punk hair, and with large grandpa glasses. He's very thin, and obviously has seen better days, but he doesn't look ready to, you know, drop dead. Dom's ma looks exactly as I imagine the stereotypical Irish mother: overweight in the cozy, cuddly, grandma way, curly white poufy hairdo, rosy cheeks. I wonder if she has a cookie in her pocket. She's extremely huggable. Hugs all around. Dom voice-overs that he was thrilled to see his father at the airport, since his mother had told him that his father could hardly walk. Dom sighs that his father looked "fantastic." The entire family is grinning hugely. Dom's mother voice-overs that's wonderful to have her son home again, to "have a spot of light in the house." The Irish music tinkles, as we scan over shots of two tiny dogs racing gleefully over a cobblestone street, and several small children playing soccer in an impossibly green field. I start to bawl. Where's me pint?
Back at Dom's parents' house, we're introduced to Barbara, his sister, who was actually at the airport, but didn't get the Squiggly, Hip Font of Introduction until just now. She's very pretty, with long, thick dark hair and the aforementioned Irish rosy cheeks. She and Dom head out for a walk, as Dom voice-overs that the rest of his siblings have "run off" to America and left Barbara as the only child -- and, it is implied, the only one who has had to deal with their father's health problems on a daily basis. At least Dom feels bad about leaving Barbara to shoulder the entire responsibility of looking after their parents, although, it must be said, their mother looks pretty hardy.
Tea time! Dom pours his Da a cuppa, as they discuss his health. His Da tells him that he's on steroids. "You know, like the athletes were banned for," he says, placing a huge fuzzy polka-dotted cozy over the teakettle. Dom cracks that it's the end of his father's Olympic dreams. They laugh. Dom voice-overs that, again, he had been very concerned about his father's health and spirits, but that it's good to see him doing better than expected. Damn Dom and his winsome Irish brood! I can't snark about ANY of this. In fact it's, yes, sort of warming my cold, dark heart. Damn it.
Barbara gets her own special Bunim-Murray interview, and explains that a few months ago, her father sat down and told her that he was giving up and that he didn't have it in him to fight anymore. All he did was lounge around, silently. If they were lucky, she explains, maybe he'd get up and watch TV.
We get a shot of a family photo from earlier days, and the resemblance between Dom and his father is even more remarkable. The picture is truly adorable -- Dom is about sixteen, in a light blue suit, and grinning from ear to ear. He says, in an interview, that he never even thought about losing one of his parents, and now he has all these complicated emotions bubbling up, thinking about something he never even considered previously. He looks thoughtful.
We go to commercial and I go and call my Mom and Dad. I tell them I love them and they ask me what I'm going to do if I get laid off and have no job and wonder when I'm ever going to meet a nice man and settle down, and have babies, and also when I'm going to pay off my credit-card debt, and if I got the brake lights on my car fixed, and if I'm ever going to go to the doctor and get a checkup because you just never know. They love me too.
Back in Ireland, Dom and his father have tea -- again -- on the balcony. Dom tells his father about his cross-country drive from Kentucky to Los Angeles. His father listens, interested. Dom voice-overs that his father's weight loss has stabilized, as we see his father wander through the garden at the back of the house, enjoying nature, smelling the roses, yada.
Inside the house, Dom's Ma tells Dom and Barbara that 60% of cirrhosis is caused by drinking, and 40% is a by-product of other diseases, but Da's cirrhosis is falls into group of about 10% of all cases, wherein the doctors don't know how or why a patient develops the disease. Oh, I have so many things to say about this! First, I'm not going to make fun of Dom's cozy, sweet Ma for her fuzzy math, because I think she means that 10% of the 40% of the by-product people are the poor we-have-no-idea people. Whatever; she's so cute and cuddly, anyway. Second, I really hope Dom thinks about what this disease is doing to his father, and cuts back on the amount that he drinks. As if. Wow, with the exception of the "as if," none of that was snarky, either! What's wrong with me? Anyway, Dom's Ma explains to him that while his Da could benefit from a liver transplant, his heart couldn't take the operation. Dom and Barbara look thoughtful. I feel so sad for them all.
In her interview, Barbara explains that in January, her father's disease came to a head. Dom's Da voice-overs that he was taken to the hospital, and told that he had an hour and a half to live. Okay, first of all, I cannot even imagine how one would react to such news. Six month, a year, five years, ten years, all horrible news. But an hour and a half? Dear God. Second, the fact that Dom's Da is loading the family into the car and getting behind the wheel and driving off just goes to show you that doctors, occasionally, make mistakes. You go with your beating the odds, Da!
In the back seat of the car, Dom makes the sign of the cross. His father asks what he's doing, and Dom explains that he's blessing himself. "I pray every day, Da," he says. "I pray every day." Barbara eyes him suspiciously, but Dom seems entirely sincere. "Do you pray for us, do ya?" Da asks. "Every day. Not a day goes by, I don't," Dom replies, as Sting's "Fields of Gold" plays in the background and I burst into tears again. This is worse than when I was reading Angela's Ashes.
The car sails underneath a sign proclaiming that Guinness welcomes us to Dublin. Dom voice-overs that this is first time his father has been able to drive since he fell ill, and while he had once vowed never ever to get in the car with his father again, he knows that his Da is a proud person who only wanted to drive his family into town, and so he just said a prayer, and blessed himself, and got in the car to "enjoy the ride." Sniff!
The Dominator's family goes to see some kind of concert thing at some place in Dublin (there are no signs! It's all very unspecific!). Dom sips a Bass, as the bandleader says something in a totally unintelligible Irish brogue. The band cranks up the tinkly Irish folk music, which I just love. I used to go to this pub in Santa Monica every Sunday night to see a local Irish band, Gaelic Storm. They played traditional Irish songs, and drinking music, and people danced, and it was a blast. Then one Sunday, they told us that they were in this little movie called Titanic and that we all ought to go see it to support them. You know that scene in third class, where Jack and Rose dance to the tunes of the spunky Irish musicians? That was them. After that, the pub was packed, they started charging a cover, and Gaelic Storm went on, like, a world tour. And the point of that whole story was merely to state that I like traditional Irish music quite a bit. And I'm pissed at those yahoos who just jumped on the Gaelic Storm bandwagon, when they were my band to begin with! Anyway. Dom's Da gazes at the musicians with a huge smile on his face, as his Ma voice-overs that only two weeks ago, her husband was laying around, depressed and ill. She's quite sure that Dom's presence is responsible for the turnaround in his Da's health. Dom says in an interview that "the spirit and the will to live are more important than any medical science." The Irish folk song tinkles to a close. Dom and his father smile at one another and burst into applause. Sniff, part deux!
Back at the DomPound, Dom shows his family pictures from his recent ill-fated Outward Bound experience. His Ma comes to a picture of Jon in his cowboy hat. "That's Johnny Cash!" she says.
Back in America, Jon tells us that he really misses singing in public. It was easy in Kentucky, he says, because people used to invite him to sing, and now he has to market himself, which is hard. Long story short, however, he recently found out about a singing contest, the prize of which is $1000, which he is determined to enter. Young Jon is, however, philosophical, musing that he doesn't expect to win, and that entering a contest with expectations of any sort is just setting yourself up for disappointment. Wise words from young Jon-San. Wax on, wax off, kiddo.
Ireland. Dom, Sister Barbara, and Cousin Peter go out for lunch. Which leads to a few pints. And a few more pints. And a few pints more. When the threesome emerge from O'Donoghue's bar, Dom says, they were "in an extremely festive mood," which appears to be a euphemism for "blind drunk." They all seem to be happy drunks, at least, as they literally twirl out of the bar and up the street.
Waiting for the train, the threesome realizes how very very late they are for dinner, and concoct a crazy story about there being a fire on the train tracks, which delayed them. "It's amazing, when you've had a couple of beers, the things you'll do that seem so rational," Dom says. Word to that, brother. And then you get the pictures back a few days later and the crying and recriminations begin. On the way up their street, the drunken trio loudly bemoans, again, how very late they are for dinner. In Dom's defense, he seems the least wasted of the three of them. Peter, in fact, can barely walk. Dom voice-overs that the problem is that it's so light out, and yet so late in the day, blaming the evil of the summer sun for his being late. Yes, because in Los Angeles, it gets dark at 5:00 PM, year-round. On the way home, it seems the threesome has picked up a fourth, who never gets identified, but who is wearing a Georgetown sweatshirt. Georgetown watches, amused, as Peter looks at his watch, and then at his wedding ring, moaning that he might as well just take the ring off and hand it to his wife when he walks in the door. As Peter buries his head in his heads, Dom runs through the fire-on-the-tracks lie for him, telling him just to call the wife, and tell her he's been unavoidably delayed.
Dom, Peter, Barbara, and Georgetown enter yet another pub, so that Peter can call the wife. He appears to have some difficulty remembering his own phone number ("Nine...five...yes, that's right," he says to himself), and when he finally gets through to the wife, she doesn't even let him get halfway through the story before hanging up on him. I have a feeling this isn't the first time there's been a fire on the tracks, so to speak. I also have a feeling that Peter will be sleeping on the sofa tonight. Didn't YOU read Angela's Ashes, Peter? Look at how a loving, but no-account, alcoholic father can bring a family nothing but trouble? Shape up!
Barbara and Dom waltz into the DomPound, terribly late. Dom embraces his mother, apologizing, and nuzzling her neck. She half-heartedly scolds him. He launches into the fire story, and Ma laughs and tells him that he's going to have to do better than that. She sure isn't mad. My mother would kill me if I showed up two hours late for dinner, drunk. She'd literally kill me dead. Ma asks, amused, who came up with the fire-on-the-tracks story. "She did," Dom squeals, pointing at Barbara. She shoots him the dirtiest look in the world. Ah, the joys of the sibling relationship.
Back in the States, Jon and his fan club of Beth, Irene, Banthony, and Tim have arrived at Borderline, a fairly well-known country and western line-dancing club in southern California. I've heard they even have a bull you can ride, too. I'm all about the mechanical bulls, people. Jon voice-overs that he knows that the competition is going to be tough, but he doesn't have anything to lose. Jon is Zen, we get it. Cue the montage of competitors, most of whom really do suck ass. Jon, in either a lucky draw or due to the magic of Bunim-Murray's editing techniques, is up last, and, naturally brings the house down. In another shocking development, Jon wins this round of the competition. According to the MC, there are two more weeks of competition, after which the grand-prize winner will be announced. I'm on the edge of my seat!
In Ireland, Dom talks a bit about soccer. Did you know that they like soccer in Ireland? And, apparently, soccer fans can get a bit out of hand? No kidding! It's true. There was totally no reason for this part of the episode.
At the DomPound, Barbara tells us that Dom's visit has really invigorated their father, and she hopes the change is a lasting one. Dom sits to the cutest little baby picture of himself, and voice-overs that he comes from a great place, with a great family, and seeing his father has really lifted a great deal of weight from his shoulders. As Da ribs Dom about his hair, Barbara voice-overs that it's awful to think that it takes an illness to bring a family together, but nevertheless, she's awfully grateful that it happened.
Da and Ma, in their matching armchair recliners, tell us that Dom's visit was the best cure Da could have hoped for. Da nods. He agrees that he's back to his old self, all thanks to seeing his prodigal son. They both look thoughtful. Da smiles.
Cue the montage of father and son, smiling and laughing at one another. Dom voice-overs that he came home to make peace with his father, and he is so glad he got the chance to do so.
So Dom packs up his bags, and heads back to the airport, and after much tearful hugs and heartfelt farewells, he gets back on the plane to fly back to the United States. "Take care, love," Da yells. "I will, Da!" Dom gives him the thumbs-up. The soft Irish folk music jingles in the background. His father watches him go, until he can't see him anymore. They wave. I bawl some more.
Back to Jon. After being anointed the winner, he sings a song, dedicated to his roommates, called "Welcome to the Real World." He is a true master of subtlety. Scenes of Beth and Banthony gazing fondly at their rhinestone cowboy shot are interspersed with scenes of Dom's plane landing, Dom getting his luggage, Dom stealing a ride on a golf cart at the airport, and Dom arriving back at the beach house, where Jon greets him with a huge hug, and a genuinely gleeful yell. Aw, those two sweet kids! "Jon, I missed you, buddy," Dom says. "I missed you, too!" says Jon. They hug. So much love in this episode, I almost can't take it!