So much has happened since last I wrote. Undeclared got picked up for a full season, the Yankees choked in the World Series, Roswell didn't get cancelled, and Diet Coke with Lemon tried tempting me to the dark side. My conclusion? There's a reason we associate lemon additives with cleaning products. If I wanted to knock back a cool, refreshing can of citrus gasoline, I'd be at Texaco right now sucking on the pumps. ["On the other hand, Diet Pepsi Twist? Yummy." -- Wing Chun] In sum, this show's been gone awhile; lest strange characters confuse lost viewers, we go straight to the credits sequence and then dive into the first scene.
The Good Times Gang chills out in a common area that somehow looks nothing like the Frosh Pit, but apparently is. Wasn't the sofa under the window? And wasn't there a kitchenette? And what of the giant, mustard-colored cloth wall-hanging with strange colored leaf stencils on it? It looks like the last remaining trophy of a picnic gone horribly, horribly wrong. But the crew doesn't care. Steve, Lizzie, and Rachel sit merrily underneath the cloth atrocity, with Heath, Shaggy, and Ron in nearby chairs. Most of them are guzzling from the thick red or blue Solo cups that are the trademark of college parties and shows without product-placement deals. Except, of course, for the Solo Cup Company, which relies on student boozers to keep it afloat. Adam Sandler's "The Hanukkah Song" finishes playing on the stereo, eliciting much merriment from our tipsy cast. "I didn't know all those people were Jewish!" marvels Lizzie, thrilled to have learned something about life, religion, and marijuanikah, The Official Herb of Judaism. Heath snickers uncontrollably. "Adam Sandler is performing on campus, in front of us, in, like, twenty-eight minutes," babbles Ron deliriously. "It's...aah...." He deteriorates into inane celebratory stammering, which sounds as if someone dumped a plate of hot French fries in his mouth and then grabbed hold of his tongue. Heath laughes again. Lizzie puts on her Thinking Face and wonders if Sandler is nice. "I went up to Richard Dreyfuss in a carpet store, and I was like, 'Are you Richard Dreyfuss?' And he was like, 'No,' but it so was," she shares. Perfect line delivery there by Carla Gallo. Steve tries to engage her by opining that What About Bob? was a fabulous movie, but his theory is ruined by the fact that he's completely wrong. I walked out of the theater because, despite Bill Murray, there's only so many times I can watch Richard Dreyfuss turn purple and vibrate all his facial veins. He's got to be one of my least-favorite actors. He put the "pus" in Mr. Holland's Opus. Shaggy interrupts my rant, chiming in that Charles Barkley once flipped him the bird during a basketball game, which puts Shaggy in an elite crowd of about three million people. Lizzie dreamily says that she and Eric adore Sandler, which prompts her to jump up and call her long-distance boyfriend so that he can worship her for getting tickets to this event and not offering him one. Steve's face falls as his eyes flash deep green.