Opening credits. Very I Dream of Jeannie music accompanies an animated graphic of the night sky and a full moon, over which the words "I Married an Alien starring Isabel Evans" appear in a MS First Original Notion This Show Has Ever Had Sans Bold font. A Jetson's-y spaceship flies into the frame, circles once, and takes a plunge. It steams down towards Earth, and crashes into the desert. The whole run of the series until this point is successfully rendered in one animated minute.
The raucous applause track welcomes Samanthabel Stevans into her deco '50s living room. She notes a dirty kitchen, puts her hands disapprovingly on her hips, and speaks the words aloud, "Well, this is certainly no way to start a morning." She waves a hand and the dishes appear in the drying rack all clean and shiny because, well, he married an alien. She stands surveying the kitchen one ill-timed moment too long (though for all I know that could be intentional; the early days of the three-camera sitcom were not pretty ones. Even into the '70s, they were hardly considered high art, and my brother has a favorite story of having seen a rerun of Three's Company in which everyone leaves the living room and it literally sits vacant for upwards of twenty seconds before the next hairy-chested used-car salesman wacky neighbor in waaaaaay too tight shorts for a man remembers to make his entrance), finally speaking the words, "I think we'll have French toast and sausage." A wave of the hand sends a loaf of bread floating from atop the refrigerator and into Samanthabel's arms, and the eggs come flying out of the suddenly open refrigerator. On another shelf of the fridge sits a plate of sausage links, which look all strange and yucky and meaty when they come flying through the air. But that's none of my business, really. Sausage is Jesse's favorite! And Darrin's, too! Both of them!
Speaking of whom, Jesse rounds the corner into the kitchen in the same dapper business suit and a smile to throw some sunlight off on the North Pole in January. Entrance applause. Nice touch. He looks sternly upon her, asking, "Isabel, how many times do I have to tell you: no alien powers in the house." Man. Is there a rule somewhere in The Cold War Guide To Domineering TV Husbands that every sentence has to start off with "How many times do I have to tell you"? Actually, I guess there kind of is that rule. And studies show that 90 percent of the time, the second half of the sentence is, "…that you cannot play in the band." But this time? Alien powers, and the fact that she shouldn't be using them in the house. So that's different, then. He smells the French toast and smiles broadly enough to accidentally swallow six nearby planets and a large mug of coffee that seems to have mysteriously disappeared from my desk, excusing her with, "Well, maybe just this once."