That old beloved MGMT standard "Kids" lofts over the van der Bilt football game, as all-American boys run mindlessly around the yard wearing their best and most expensive outdoor wear, like an advertisement for White Anglo-Saxon Protestants and their reunions. The game intensifies, as in Knowles's "Blitz Ball," and soon enough the limb is jounced: Trip throws Nate to the grass, clipping Daniel as he passes. William watches the proceedings without passing judgment, even as Nathaniel demands justice for the foul. William asks his grandson disarmingly, "You want me to call that?" And Daniel, taking the part of his friend as ever, notes that they are engaged in touch football, and not rugby. Nathaniel takes his grandfather's message to heart, shaking it off: this is how the van der Bilts play ball. Daniel reminds him that he can quit at any time, but Nathaniel commits himself again to their endeavor. Such as it is, this is what it means to be a van der Bilt.
And as the song reflects passionately on Nate's dilemma -- Control yourself/ Take only what you need from it -- Trip's fiancée Maureen joins Vanessa on a balcony overlooking the game. "I remember my first time here," she says sympathetically. "Intimidating." They introduce themselves, and Vanessa agrees with her statement. "I feel like a Republican at the Kennedy Compound!" (The dutiful reader will note that the comparisons of Vanessa Abrams to California's Austrian-born, uncouth governor do not end there.) Maureen reassures her possible future sister-in-law: "Oh, don't fret. Everyone loves you. They're probably already designing the campaign posters."
(A family of trees wanted/ To be haunted) Vanessa looks at her a moment, realizing that she's been trapped somehow, and asks her interlocutor to elaborate. "I assume you saw the Hall o' Governors? Politics is a van der Bilt birthright. And with Nate's charm, and your background..." Vanessa's lovely and multiethnic brows threaten to hurl themselves heavenward from her face, and she begs Maureen's pardon, but Maureen is unflappable and kind in her intentions: "Nate mentioned you're kind of an activist in your community. A documentary filmmaker?" Vanessa calms down, grateful for this evidence of our continuing development as a nation, and to her credit is able to evade the clutches of this flattery. For even one person to take her seriously as a "documentary filmmaker" surely rates this day high above all others, but never shall we let it be said that Vanessa couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth and come up with complaints about its carbon footprint.