David Chase: A bigger embarrassment than Patrick Swayze and Keanu Reeves?
JFK: Yeah, like that's even possible.
Speaking of dorms, here's Carmela at Columbia. Or perhaps it's another nod to Passover, since, as Sars so helpfully informed us, the exteriors are filmed at Baruch. Carmela knocks on Meadow's door, but there's no answer. She takes her handfuls of bags (including yet more laundry) to a nearby bench and sits down to wait. She looks desperately lonely, and if you listen to the words on the soundtrack, they spell out quite literally just how bad she's feeling. There's a very nicely done sad-Carmela montage, and then finally Meadow emerges from her room, looking positively Godot-like in her robe and PJs. It's actually more of a kimono than a robe, so I'm not going to count it for StR. They go back into her room, and Carmela runs down the list of all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, and general slave-labor-like tasks she's performed for Meadow before complaining that the room reeks of smoke. If you take away the cooking, the cleaning, the shopping, and the slave labor, she again sounds exactly like my mom. Meadow blames the smoke on Caitlin (and not very convincingly, either), and then they banter about books. In addition to the various themes at work in this week's recap, there's also a lot of alliteration in this week's iteration, although it's not intended to be allegorical or anything. Meadow gets even more snotty (yeah, like that's even possible) upon hearing of Carmela's lunch with the dean, and my Carmel-O-Meter pegs at the high end when she mocks Meadow right back. When Carmela mentions the "Noah thing," Meadow replies, "You call losing a wonderful man because of Dad a 'thing'?" Actually, yes, I do. A knee-deep-in-denial thing, but a thing nonetheless. Carmela calls her on it, and they fight over the "bullshit, accommodational pretense [she has] with Daddy." Carmela gives as good as she gets in this exchange, however, and Meadow finally backs down and looks away. Not enough milk. Too much shake.
Junior's Joint. He keeps pouring more and more milk into a blender which already contains a large glop of…something. With the crappy VCR and all, I can't make out exactly what, though. Ice cream? Free meat? Balsamic? Who knows? Except he forgets to put the lid back on before hitting the button, and ends up wearing most of his concoction. At this most inopportune moment, Tony walks in. As is typical of Junior's Walter Mitty-esque delusions of grandeur, he's instantly concerned that Tony was spotted by the crack squad of federal marshals assigned to ensure that Junior doesn't violate his parole. Tony assures him that he followed proper precautions, and then asks after Bobby Bacala, who's gone to the drug store to fetch "some more Pepto." He also tells Junior that he looks good, and then makes sure to let him know that anytime Junior wants his [unprintable (but quite enjoyable) sex act deleted], it's "just a phone call away." After that mental image, I need some more Pepto myself. Tony pours what's left in the blender into a glass for Junior, who laments that he still can't eat solid foods. See? I told you Bobby's question was a good one. Nobody mocks my Bobby Bacala. Well, nobody but me, that is. Junior inquires about the Pants situation (and haven't we all with this show at one time or another?), but Tony gently reminds him that he's "got enough in [his] blender already," and should mind his own business. But when Jr. mentions that the Dr. is putting him back under the knife, Tony immediately butts in and demands that he seek an eponymous, non-plastic second opinion. Junior displays a surprising affection for JFK (I always figured him as more of a Republican, but what do I know), and a not-at-all surprising streak of superstition when he reveals that Dr. Kennedy's name is the main reason he likes him so much. At this point, Bobby B returns, and Junior instantly busts him for eating White Castles, which I always thought was just a NY/NJ thing until I found one right here in Pittsburgh a few months ago. Tony offers to pull some strings (via Dr. Cusamano) to get Junior the best doctor in Manhattan. Junior agrees to this plan only if Tony comes along to "ask questions," this last directed with a glare towards Bobby B. Tony leaves, but not before planting a kiss on Junior's shiny bald dome. As soon as he's out the door, Junior vents to Bobby that Tony only wants to get him a new doctor to help hasten his demise, since Junior is the only thing standing between Tony and total control of New Jersey. Uh-huh. He also repeatedly refers to himself as a "[expletive deleted. AGAIN.] hair." "Oh, Junior, all this cynicism," laments Bobby, "It can't be good for you." Uh, sounds like I'd better schedule a physical. I'll be right back.