Time Flies

Pan down onto a quiet trailer park. The magic of editing brings us inside one of the packed-together mobile homes. A still-life video montage gives us clues to the pleasant life that's about to end therein: TV "personalities" jabbering away cheerfully on the morning show. Kettle on the stove. Coffee in the filter, gardening gloves to them. Shelves and shelves of tchotchkes. The sound of the toilet lid going up in the bathroom. Christmas cards. Photos. Knitting. The sound of a book hitting the floor in the bathroom. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People on the linoleum. The teakettle whistling. The old lady on the terlet with her pants around her ankles. So long, Lila Simonds Coolidge (1909-2005). Don't be embarrassed about the way you ended up going out. It was good enough for Elvis.

Forget about all that hippy-dippy Circle of Life crap, because tonight? Life is a line and you're going to like it. And we now go from one end of that line to the other, as symbolized by the used pregnancy test sitting out on the counter of an entirely different bathroom, namely Nate's. We can't see what the results might be, and shirtless Nate isn't interested anyway. He's more interested in his current spot at some arbitrary midpoint between the two ends of the Line of Life. He closely inspects his face in the mirror, trying different expressions one after another. He looks like he's trying to read his reflection's mind, but of course, he ends up quitting, because it's too hard.

When Nate comes out to the kitchen fully dressed in his suit and tie, Brenda and Maya are waiting for him. At Brenda's prompting, Maya lisps, "Happy biff-dayyYYYY!." Okay, that was cute. Nate thanks and kisses the women in his life. Brenda, in particular, seems to be waiting for more from him, but he moves on, oblivious to both her attitude and the bulge that's pushing out the front of her already bulky sweater. Brenda, you're supposed to take the pregnancy test before you start showing. Otherwise you're just wasting twelve bucks. And, okay, I know Rachel Griffiths was actually pregnant during the shooting of this season, but if they're not going to bother to try and hide it, then I'm not going to bother trying not to notice. "Did you notice anything in the bathroom?" she asks pointedly. After obsessing more about his new wrinkles, Nate finally gets it: "Are you pregnant?" Brenda excitedly confirms it. "That's great!" Nate says, walking over to hug her. "Congratulations!" Uh-oh. Brenda immediately shuts down. "Come on, what am I supposed to say?" Nate asks. What did you say last time, dude? Brenda basically starts hustling him and Maya out the door. "Thank you for your hearty congratulations," she snarks before storming off to get ready for work. "I'm happy, just tell me again," Nate says. Yeah, Brenda's all about take two, isn't she?

Ruth's knitting-circle session is just winding up, if you'll pardon the expression, and I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Everyone but Ruth and the other knitter with lines gets up to leave. The teacher or store owner or whatever she is, a snooty-sitcom-mom type named Victoria, sits to Ruth and the other woman and asks Ruth for "The George Report." Ruth says that George started another round of electroshock. Good thing we had that whole setup last week with George not wanting Ruth to know about that. Way to milk all kinds of drama out of that secret and its ultimate revelation. Ruth says George and Maggie think the ECT is working, but that "the days after the treatments are such a challenge for" Ruth. Which is what really matters, after all. Somebody's going through some shit? How does it affect the nearest Fisher, is what I always want to know. After enabling Ruth's self-pity for a bit, Victoria asks if Ruth is signed up for week's class. Ruth says she'll try to make it, and gets up to go. "It's all good, right?" Victoria tips her a wink. The other ladies watch her go sympathetically. Once she's out on the sidewalk, she starts crying before walking off. Nice clear view of the store window, though, with the name and slogan clearly visible. That must be in exchange for all the yarn Ruth's always knitting with on the show.

"Lila was the most active person I ever met in my life," says an old lady in an old-lady suit and an Anaheim Angels ball cap. The combination makes her look like a nursing-home resident on a field trip. She's explaining to Rico and Nate about how her friend, the Corpse of the Week, ran a resort in Ojai where families came year after year, and then their kids, and then their kids. "No one in the neighborhood got more Christmas cards or visits than Lila," she says. Nate says it sounds like a good life. The old lady says this would have been Lila's 95th birthday, and Rico smiles and mentions that it's Nate's birthday as well. Nate says that he's forty. The old lady says that Nate doesn't look that old. Yeah, it's thanks to clean living. She asks if he's doing anything special, and he says that his wife and daughter are taking him to Big Sur the following weekend. The old lady emotionally says that it's beautiful up there. "I suppose I'll be gone soon, too," she adds quietly. "Aww," Rico begins, but she says, "That's okay. It happens." Nate doesn't disagree. I think he's pretty clear on the concept by now.

David and Keith approach the Pasqueasel's front door, David complaining to Keith about his agreeing to pick up the boss's stinky cat at the vet instead of spending the morning with his partner. "Let it go," Keith reiterates, and rings the doorbell. The door is answered by, of all people, Julie Brown. Not the '80s MTV VJ, but the other one. She introduces herself as Sissy Pasquese and invites the boys in. She heads inside while David hangs back so that he can rudely, loudly whisper questions at Keith about who she is and who the kids are that she's talking about. Hearing this, she turns around and says, "David? We're married, Roger's gay, and I'm fine with it. But we keep it quiet because we're very private people." "Thank you," says David, refreshed by her straightforwardness. "That's all I needed." I don't know, I think you need better manners, you nosy bastard.