"In Utero" mimories

In Utero 'R' Us

Thoughts on

Wow. The episode starts with Dr. Reiss saying 'wow,' and ends with me saying, 'wow...' so I'm going to call this a WOW, Way Out Wonderful, episode. To me, for all kinds of reasons, this was the best episode of the season, thus far, and my favorite of the series, thus far. If you'll stick around for the swooning, I might just end up telling you why this one meant so much to me. Or, I may not. ;-P Stream of consciousness, remember. I never know when I start where I'm going to end up or what I might say before I get there, so proceed at your discretion, as always.

Maybe I'm just a flashback fan, a junkie for juxtaposition, something I never realized about myself, until this season. Last season's half-flashback episode, "California Son" was my favorite from season one, and now this year's flashback eppie takes that honor. The flashbacks have to be the common denominator, no? But me, a flashback fan? Not exactly, and in fact I never liked them quite as much as I seem to currently. This is all new to me. In this case, perhaps, I just appreciate knowing the back story of our main characters, how they came to be the people we met in August of 2007. Flashbacks of things we've already seen happen, not so much, but when it enlightens us to things we wouldn't know otherwise, it doesn't seem as contrived or lazy, using what came before the present to tell the story. It feels essential, intrinsic to telling the story properly.

Reckon? Because I generally find flashbacks rather annoying, or I always did when XF used them, because it was kind of insulting to me that they'd feel a need to show me something I already had burned into my XF memory bank, like I'd need reminding?! Me of minute detail and multiple viewings of every, single episode?! They clearly weren't talking to me, but to those 'in case you just joined us' people who wouldn't know otherwise, instead. As a devout and completely obsessed Phile, it was insulting and a lazy way to fill the 45 minutes or so we had to spend with our Dynamic Duo every week. Make sense, the difference? With Cali, however, it's all good. I learn from the flashbacks, in this case. They aren't reminders of things I should already know (something the 'previously on...' segments are for), but rather a way to show me who these people are and why they are who they are. I loved it, possibly more than I should.

We start out in the present, though, with Hank sitting in a doctor's chair for the second time this season, his feet in stirrups, suffering the indignities that are most often reserved for the female of our species, legs spread, a doctor poking at our most private areas, up close and personal, and not at all happy about having our 'junk' examined. Know the feeling, bro. Dr. Reiss (Paul Lieber, 'Micah Hoffman' from "Hollywood AD") says, "Wow!" his hands on Hank's groin lump, at the time. "Wow?!" Hank asks nervously. "Oh yeah!" the good doctor enthuses in answer. "Oh yeah?!" Hank asks again, growing increasingly perplexed and repetitive. Hanky's in some trouble, gang, and the doctor apparently enjoys torturing him. Yes, Hank's got quite a lump there. It's grotesque, doc says.

"Cancer?" is the first conclusion Hank jumps to. No, not necessarily. What Hank's got, according to Reiss, is a really angry and swollen lymph node, yes, down there, Hank. Lymph nodes are all over and they rule, literally. My first thought? That's what happens when you and your significant other don't take good care of you, post-surgery, you meep. Nobody ever says it has anything to do with the surgery, but considering what it turns out to be eventually, I still think the surgery may have been the 'outbreak monkey' (my thanks to Mr. Runkle, in advance) which caused this lumpishness for Hank.

And I'm still a little surprised it took Karen finding it for Hank to know he had a problem. Seems like it would've hurt or you know ...interfered during lovemaking before Karen found it with her very own hands, post-lovemaking. I was, however, delighted to see Karen there at the doctor's with him, this time and she pipes in to tell the doc she's been telling Hank it's probably nothing, right, and the doctor says not necessarily again.

The doctor asks calmly what Hank's working on, as an author, obviously, trying to calm him down by showing an interest in Hank's work, I suppose, and Hank indignantly informs him he's working on finding out what the lump in his junk is! Please! He's asking Hank about writing right now?! The doctor suggests they biopsy the lump, right then and there. Hanks tries to escape, claiming he has tons of important things to do, but Karen reins him in and tells him he's getting this done, right now. No jacking around or running away. Go, Karen.

First Doctor Reiss tells Hank it'll be fun! It won't hurt a bit, then corrects himself to say that actually, it'll hurt like Hell, especially in its location. The doctor sticks his head under the sheet covering Hank's lower half and goes to work. Karen clutches Hank's hand to her chest tightly, trying to keep him from running away like a scalded cat, and help him through the pain, but it isn't enough.

Hank flips out and wants a drink. Ummm ...why not a little local anesthetic or maybe at least some laughing gas or something? I guess that's how they do it in Venice, take a big swig of your favorite liquor, pre-biopsy. Anyway, I laugh every time at the way Hank persists in stopping the doctor from proceeding without anesthetics of any kind, eventually patting the doctor on the head to get his attention. The doc comes out from under his sheet, a bemused smirk on his face and says for Hank, he'll send someone out for some booze. Nice guy and very accommodating.

We leave Hank to his biopsy while we head into Flashback Land. Now, I've read several reviews describing the flashbacks as 'Hank reflects' on his past. I didn't exactly see the flashbacks as Hank's doing. It's not like he paused, a reflective look spreading across his face, the scene blurring and refocusing in on the past, like a lot of flashbacks happen. You know what I mean, where they make it obvious that the past is a product of one person's thoughts transforming into a visual for us to see. It was more like the scenes were bouncing back and forth in between present and past, purely for our edification. Hank never mentions anything about 'Remember when we found out you were pregnant? Remember how we almost decided to abort Becca? Remember how we almost broke up?' in any of the present day discussion, so I have my doubts those were Hank's reflections we were seeing.

I mean, some of the flashbacks were things Hank may not ever have known about ...like Karen reading the letter while he was in the shower, Karen seeing him dropping the letter she'd read without his knowledge into the mailbox. I suppose those were moments Karen may have revealed to him later, over their years together. But I still don't agree that the flashbacks were Hank reflecting on the past. Felt more like a fundamental interweaving of the past and present to help us understand these two people and how they ended up here, in this time of crisis, how it all began for them and why they're so stuck together, even today, even after everything that's happened, why they still love each other.

It's April 8th, 1994, or thereabouts. Karen's sitting in bed in a New York apartment (actually in sunny downtown LA, for the record) on a very dreary and sad day. She's watching TV, tears streaming down her face. A gorgeous, sleepy Hank pops up in the bed behind her and asks what's wrong. "Kurt Cobain. He's dead!" she squeaks. Hank asks what happened. "Suicide," Karen imparts with breaking voice. That's a damn shame Hank says and mim agrees. But then Karen breaks down and admits that not only is it a shame Cobain's dead, but she's pregnant! Hank's beginning to wake up now.

Now we're in the 1994 NYC apartment bathroom with our couple. Also for the record, Hank is wearing deep red PLAID boxers and I'm still surprised no one could tell. They're adorable. And yes, all but the top button of his jeans are undone, slurp. Doesn't he look ...fabulous as a 1994 version? I thought so. And Karen has pink, yellow and purple streaks in her hair. Some reviewer thought the pink streak in Karen's hair was kind of a lame way to make her look 14 years younger, but I think pink, yellow and purple streaks were much more effective. ;-P

Anyway, Karen unveils her third pregnancy test as positive. Hank asks what that means and she informs it means she's pregnant. What's so positive about that, Hank wants to know, and insists she pee on another test. She's all out of pee! So he wants her to hydrate and do another one. He's not convinced, i.e., he's in denial. Karen's not. Hank asks, so the 'rabbit's done died', eh? Karen climbs up and takes a seat on the toilet lid and says she'll take care of it. Hank says "we" will.

So that's what they've decided on; abortion, Karen says. Well-played, Hank claims, since now he has no idea what to tell her she should do. Karen reminds him they barely know each other, after all, and Hank has a girlfriend, remember. Hank informs Karen it's a loose arrangement, that the waif-y models are good that way, and let's not forget Karen has a boyfriend, too. Karen reveals she has a musician boyfriend, one who's on tour, one she never sees, one she thinks less and less about. Judging merely by what she's looking at standing directly in front of her, I KNOW why the boyfriend crosses her mind less with every passing second.

Hank kneels down in front of her, begging not to be thought of as insensitive, but is Karen really sure the pregnancy is Hank's doing? Karen's eyes widen and her jaw drops. Hank concedes, yep, she seems pretty sure.

We're back in the present. Hank and Karen are sitting in front of Dr. Reiss' desk. He's joined Hank in knocking back some liquor, while Hank and Karen question him about what Hank's lump might be. It could be an infection, something a round of antibiotics could take care of. Sounds good to Hank. What else, Hank persists. It could be an STD. Hank has the bewildering gall to claim he doesn't think that's possible.

HELL-OOO! Is Hank really that ignorant about the birds and the bees and STDs?! I have to assume Hank's one of those guys that thinks if a woman's attractive and smells nice, she can't possibly have an STD. He must think people with STDs *look* like they have STDs, and he has some kind of special radar that would steer him away. Please. Any of the many women Hank's hopped into bed with are just the type of women who *would* be carrying the extras, it would seem to me. Anybody willing to climb into bed with a total stranger and without a condom, even once, impulsively, much less as a habit, is actually very likely to have an STD. Hank can really seem so dumb.

Karen isn't quite as dumb, but boy, she's much crueler. The doc says it could be syphilis. I'm wondering why no one has ever mentioned AIDS, which Hank is also quite susceptible to because of his condom aversion. Syph is a biggie, doc says, and distressingly on the rise right now, probably because of idiots with 10-second sexual fuses and memory spans, like Hank and the nymphos he's constantly climbing into the sack with. ARGH! <g>

Yes, I'm being judgmental, about a fictional character, please note, but does no one on this show remember the 80s, the dawn of deadly STDs?! I mean, before the 80s, yeah, you had the embarrassment of being diagnosed with terminal stupidity for having unprotected sex and shame, shame, somebody hasn't been faithful or conscientious about having themselves checked regularly, and as a result, gave you something icky. It was somehow better than accidental pregnancy, but still the next-to-ultimate in getting caught with your pants down, so to speak, the bane of the sexual revolution. Unfettered sex has its disadvantages and always has. Hank's shown us most all of them in 24 episodes or less, in fact.

Still, before AIDS, there was STD anger and humiliation to deal with, certainly, a visit to the doctor's office or health clinic to get a big old shot of penicillin, abstaining from sex for a few weeks, a month, then you started over, hopefully in a truly monogamous relationship, or at the very least, with a constant and ready supply of condoms at your disposal. But all that relative ease of easy sex changed a couple of decades ago, and in case Hank's forgotten, AIDS has NOT been eradicated or anywhere close, and there ain't no cure, either. Still astonishes me that anyone, Hank or anyone else, would take that kind of risk in this day and age with a stranger, regardless of how attractive and/or hot-to-trot they may be. I'm still advocating a case of extra thick condoms for overnight delivery to Hanky.

But okay, being ever in denial, Hank is ready to move on to the next possibility, but Karen wants to hear more about syphilis. Hank reminds her it could be cancer, and Karen thinks that would be preferable to syphilis. WHAT?! me and Hank say. Yeah, Karen would rather Hank have cancer than to face the humiliation of a rather simple treatment, an injection, and three weeks to a month of abstaining from sex because Hank gave her syphilis. What a sweetheart not!

Thank goodness we move quickly back to 1994. Our couple is dressed now, but cuddling in the unmade bed. Karen tells Hank they need to talk about options. Plucking at the purple streak in Karen's hair, Hank says he doesn't have any pamphlets or literature on him, but Karen strikes him as the painfully liberal, pro-choice type. Her?! Oh my God, no! She's ultra conservative; NRA, pro-life all the way, bub! Wow, well that limits their options considerably, according to Hank, but he winks at her (:melts:) and suggests they sit with that for a bit. I think Karen was seriously kidding about the ultra conservative NRA type, but she admits she's always been on kind of non-abortion streak, and she feels good about that. Hank agrees it's a perfectly okay way to be.

Hank needs a drink, by this point in the conversation, so he rises from the bed and heads for his desk and the liquor, asking Karen if she really wants to have a child right now. No, not really, she admits. 'But Hank does, right?' she asks with the snarky grin. God, no! Hank pours himself a big old glass of whiskey or whatever and says he's a rather large child himself. He heads back toward the bed with his drink claiming that when children have children, it rarely works out well for anybody, especially him. Mmm, yeah, Karen can see where becoming a father might really lay waste to Hank's ability to drink and get laid every night. Oh no! Hank can multitask with the best of them, he proclaims. "Good to know," Karen lies.

He remains in place, a few feet away from the bed, and apologizes to Karen for knocking her up. Yeah, it's almost rude, right, she asserts. Hank answers to that with the irony of Karen's generosity in allowing him access to her most intimate of areas, and repaying her by pollinating her. Woe is he. He wishes one of them had insisted on a condom. Hello! One of them did, Karen reminds him. Yeah, but not this one, Hank retorts, indicating himself. Sparks of a Roshamon-like spat ensue, Hank saying he wished she'd insisted, but it ends with Karen admitting that perhaps she didn't insist hard enough, announcing she's not pressing charges, ha-ha, and inviting Hank back to bed with an outstretched hand.

He accepts her offer, grabs her hand with his free one and rolls back into bed with that drink in his hand with the grace of a ballet dancer. Smooth as silk and not a drop of whiskey lost. I've watched that roll into the bed probably 20 times now, it so amazes me. Hank lands with his head in Karen's lap, commenting on how well the two of them get along as two virtual strangers. Karen laments that well, in ten years, she'll just be another woman Hank got tired of fucking. Hank counters by stating prophetically that in ten years, Karen could very well be the love of Hank's life.

Okay, so he's not so dumb. About sex, maybe, strangely enough, since he seems to know how to do it and do it v-e-r-y well. But he seems ignorant of the c-o-n-s-e-q-u-e-n-c-e-s. Perhaps selectively so. Despite his many encounters with same, he can seem so clueless, when it's convenient.

But here we are, back in the present. Hank's sitting up in his/Karen's/his bed, staring at the phone on a credenza thingie way across the room. Karen sits up next to him and asks what he's doing. The doctor said he'd call today. He said he *might* call today, Karen reminds him. No matter. Today is today and Hank expects his call. Karen tells him to stop worrying himself silly about it. Everything will be okay. She's going to help him through this, no matter what it is. But it isn't her problem, Hank inexplicably reminds her. They aren't together, so why would it be her problem? Well, duh, you big lug! She loves you, you moron! She can't live with you, but she loves you anyway. Karen doesn't say that, unfortunately, however. She, instead, bemoans having forgotten what a hypochondriac drama queen Hank can be.

Hank complains she's not the one who had a biopsy on her cock! That's because she doesn't have a cock, Hank! Thank the lord for that, Hank says. Besides, the lump's not on his cock, Karen says. Yeah but ...but for Hank, he's really sensitive about his cock (makes two of us, dude), and like ...everything from his knees to his nipples is cock. I think ...I think I may have touched Hank's cock! Oh my God! Sucky thing is, I had no idea at the time. :pouting: But then again, maybe that's a good thing. In fact, realizing I'm at stEP 10 already, I'm going to forget I ever heard Hank say that and that I said that in my usual reactionary way. Except to say I laughed until I had little tears in my eyes when he said it.

Karen reminds Hank again that hey, doc said he just had a swollen lymph node, right? Well yeah, but he also said it could be cancer. Well yeah, but he also said it could be syphilis. Hank realizes he could end up a blind, dickless beggar working a 405 off ramp someday, and requests that Karen come by and visit sometimes, just as we see the lovely, kick-ass Becca walk into the bedroom.

Our parental units notice her, Hank says look who's here, and Becca, clearly trying to break my heart, asks Hank if he's okay. Oh sure, he lies. He's fine, why would she ask? Because he's been sleeping over and that could mean one of two things; her parental units are getting back together or something's wrong with Hank. Becca suggest someone grow a pair and tell her what's going on! Go, girl. Hank and Karen look at each other and Hank says they're not getting back together. My heart aches along with Becca's. Why did he say that? :pouting again: Karen's speaks up, lies, too, saying everything's fine.

"Liars!" Becca snips, storming out of the room.

Hank and Karen appear stunned. But suddenly, they appear 14 years younger and on the opposite coast. It's a continuation of the last past scene. Hank asks Karen what she wants to do, and she asks if it's all up to her. Hank seems to think it is, but I also think he means to do right by her, regardless of her decision. He can't exactly insist she do anything, I would guess, and probably feels weird, telling Karen how to handle an unintended pregnancy. He can't demand she abort it or demand she give birth to it and raise it, so what's he supposed to say?

Am I being too easy on Hank or too hard on Karen or both? To me, anyway, it seems like, yeah, unfortunate though it may be, it is mostly up to her to decide to have the child or not, and Hank's decision would come second to hers. It's a two-person, two-part decision and the first call is hers. Right? I'm guessing she was hoping to determine if Hank would be there to help her raise the child, should she carry it to term, but she couldn't seem to just come out and ask him that, nor was she certain she'd even want him to be, at that point in their young romance. And even if she had asked, I doubt Hank would've known how to answer, which is probably why she didn't ask. Hank has trouble being certain about anything, much less the future, or at least, he strikes me that way. Decisions of any magnitude or affecting anything beyond the next hour of his life are tough for him, I've noticed.

Nevertheless, I don't envy either one of them. Hank gets up from the bed, seems restless, antsy. He paces. Karen tries taking the edge off by sending him on a guilt trip. Okay, well she'll just take care of it. She doesn't really want to have a baby right now. Hank inadvertently lets a big sigh of relief escape and Karen thinks Hank doesn't really want one either, judging by that big expelled breath. He tries to indicate he didn't mean it that way, but the smile on his face tells me he got caught thinking what she accused him of thinking.

Then comes the punch to the gut for Hank, the catch, karma. Hank's not going to get his cake and eat it, too. Of course, Karen imparts that this sad conclusion of abortion means they can't see each other again. Accidental pregnancy and abortion is no way to start a relationship, Karen tells him, and besides, they're both cheating on other people and that's kind of icky and she doesn't want it this way at all. So Hank should just go take care of his stuff, she'll take care of hers, and if he wants, he can call her sometime.

But ...but ...that's not how the world works, Hank adds, getting a little desperate, if I'm not mistaken. People do that and they tend to get lost out there. They might not see each other ever again! Well, Karen says, nonchalantly, isn't that how it works when it isn't meant to be? Hank appears pensive and at a loss. For. Words.

Now Hank's 14 years older and tapping on his Black Mac keyboard. Looks serious, and he isn’t writing. Karen comes in and peeks around the monitor to see what he's doing and scolds him for trying to diagnose himself, tells him to stop it. No, he won't because he's certain what he has. It's Bubonic Plague, he almost laughs. Karen informs him that she's come in to offer him a service, a cancer scare mercy fuck. Hank says he's going to have to pass. I hope we still have that winged pig in the back yard, but I have a feeling he just flew away.

Karen's shocked, I am, too, and Hank doesn't want her to be insulted, but my guess is that his head's just not in it, pun intended. Karen's not insulted, and in fact, seems relieved and says she's going for a shower. But Hank wants to talk. Karen can't believe that Hank turned down sex with her, but wants to talk instead, and asks if the earth has spun off its axis. I’d have to say no, but I can confirm the pig's flown the coop.

Hank wants to know about the 'Lew's a great kisser' joke, is something going on between them, and Karen persists in torturing Hank, instead of just answering his questions about Lew. She finally admits that Lew kissed her, which royally pisses Hank off and he calls Lew an asshole. Karen insists he's not an asshole, he's child and doesn't understand when he can't have what he wants. He's a lot like someone else Karen knows, she teases, and she figures Hank would be feeling all kinds of empathy, for that reason.

Hank isn't feeling the empathy or the humor and reminds her she didn't answer his question. What was the question? Is there something going on between Karen and Lew? "Oh please," Karen says with rolled eyes. Doesn't Hank have enough to worry about? But she didn’t answer his question! Karen suggests he stop asking her questions. She's so helpful. Hank gets exasperated and she tells him, that like he said, they're not together right now, she doesn't owe him an explanation and it's basically none of his business, right after she insisted he already has enough to worry about. So what, it's polite to give him more to worry about? Just answer his question, for Christ's sake! Sheesh.

No answers for Hank that we see. I'll assume Karen headed for the shower and Hank left the house, since the next time we see him in present day, he's coming back into the apartment.

But for now, we've zoomed back to 1994. We see Hank rise up from sleep behind a sleeping Karen. He pets her hair lovingly, then climbs out of bed, wearing only his adorable red plaid boxers, and stumbles over to the typewriter. Praise the lord and pass the parchment. I agree that it's most excellent to see Hank at the typewriter again. Hank lights a cig first, natch, but grabs the parchment next, feeds it into the IBM electric just like the one I had for 20 years, and plops down to write the hardest thing he ever had to write. Good thing it was also one of the most romantic and effective things he ever typed down.

Hey! There's Hank and Charlie, having a drink, present day. Charlie reminds Hank everybody has to go through health scares like Hank's and brings up a skin tag he had to have removed from the base of his scrotum. Charlie claims it's an inherited Runkle trait and Hank thinks skin tags are inherently funny. They may be, but not when you're still wondering if they're malignant and Charlie recalls how nervous he got, waiting for that call. Marcy even had to bitch slap him to get Charlie over himself once. But the call came, everything was okay and Hank will be, too. Everybody tells him that, Hank says, but then, one day the phone rings and you're not okay.

Charlie concedes the possibility, but tries to distract Hank by alerting him to a lady across the room eye-raping Hank. Could've been me, if I'd been there, but alas, not I. Hank gets all grumpy and asks who cares and bemoans all the time he wasted on that pointless dance, when he should've been spending time with his daughter that almost wasn't. Hey now, Hank's a great father, Charlie insists. No, Hank's a father, not a great one, in Hank's view. A great father puts it all on the line for his kid and leaves his self-destructive bullshit at the door. I hear you talkin', buddy...

Charlie's aware of Hank's strong self-loathing on this day, and Hank laments that he's just like his father; not a woman he's met that he hasn't fallen in love with for ten minutes or ten years. My heart flutters at the thought. :along with my eyelashes: Little ol' me, too, ya think? Oh wait, that wasn't exactly Hank I met. On second thought, shucky darn.

And what about the one woman who took that massive leap of faith, just to be with him? He so screwed that up! Yeah, but he gave it a shot, didn't he? Hank ponders if he really did his absolute best or is he such a masculine cliché that he only wants what he can't have, is the chase better than the catch? Charlie suggests there is no absolute best.

Hank tells Charlie how much he admires he and Marcy's Teflon marriage. Charlie claims that, faced with his own mortality, he might want to be somewhere else, maybe even with Daisy. :cough: Hank tells him that's 'the mind-fuck of the fresh', that's new pussy talking to him. But what if it’s not, Charlie wants to know. Hank threatens to have Charlie's balls, skin tags and all, if he doesn't watch himself. Go, Hank. Hank's cell rings, Charlie asks if it's the doctor. No, it's Lew. Fuck him, Hank snips and puts the phone away.

Back in 1994, Karen awakens, and goes to the typewriter, where Hank's left the page we saw him typing earlier. Karen sits down to read and it takes her a while, but a smile grows on her face. She hears Hank calling from the bathroom, asking if she wants him to leave the shower running, since there's still hot water left. Instead of answering, Karen tiptoes back to the bed and climbs in, so Hank will come out and find her faking sleep.

Back to door number two in the present. Lew's banging on the Moody's door. Karen answers. Lew tells Karen he hasn't seen Hank in days, and Hank's not answering or returning his calls. He wants to know if everything's okay. Karen says yes, at first, but then quickly corrects herself and says that Hank has some stuff going on. Lew comes on inside, asking if he can do anything. Well no, but Karen explains about how she stupidly teased Hank, telling him Lew was a good kisser. Hmmm, yeah, that could be rather incendiary, sure, Lew agrees. Pissed him off and it was kind of dumb, Karen finally admits to the wrong person. Oh but it's true, Lew boasts. Karen says she wouldn't know.

She tells Lew he reminds her of someone she was seeing when she met Hank. Lew's curious. In what way? He was very simple, Karen says. Simple like ...wait for it ...'retarded?' Lew asks. It's baaack. The r-word returneth, at last. Karen says yeah, first, but then explains that she means a really good simple. The guy loved music, he was always smiling, like he knew the secret. And what would that secret be, Lew wants to know. Maybe how you take what you love and make it your life, Karen says. So they should kiss, Lew inquires. No! Is Lew insane? Have you no memory, sir?

They're both laughing when Hank comes strolling in, all glum, until he spots Lew with a, "Fucker!" and the chase is on. Really funny, but goofy scene with Hank chasing Lew outside and around the apartment, throwing fruit at him like 100 mph fastballs, finally capturing Lew on the dining room table, just about the time Dr. Reiss calls and gets the answering machine. Hank frees Lew, rushing to catch the call, but too late. Doc hangs up before Hank can get to it. Hank curses and hurls the phone to the floor. Lew calls for peace with the appropriate hand signals with both hands.

We cut to Charlie still in the bar he'd had drinks with Hank earlier, and he's talking to Marcy on the phone. He says he forgives her, he loves her, loves the 12 steps and wishes there were more. He makes me want to throw up. Sorry. Then, of course, Daisy walks in. She tells Charlie she found a place in Santa Monica (and I envy her), just a single, but near the water and yoga. She tells Charlie she hopes he isn't mad at her, but she thinks she's done with porn.

He's not angry, but seems rather delighted, instead. But she's so good at it, he says. Vaginatown was special to her, she says, and then tells him if she can't actually be with Charlie, she wants the last onscreen sex she ever had to be with Charlie. Oka-a-ay. Charlie thinks that's the nicest thing anyone ever said to him, but terribly gross, for her. He asks what she's going to do, and she says she's going to do what I suggested she do several eps ago, temp, waitress, take a regular, low-paying, but decent job.

She also tells him she's still determined to be an entertainer and is going to take some acting classes. She knows it'll be tough, but she really wants it. Charlie offers to continue as her manager, and she's like, 'really? would that be such a good idea?' Of course not, and kudos, Daisy, but Charlie's like well, never seeing her again seems like an even worse idea. I'd be touched, if I wasn't so nauseated. He says maybe he could see her place sometime, and Daisy says she'd like that. Then he says, maybe he could see it right now, and she says she'd like that even better, which prompts Charlie to give her a big sloppy kiss right there in the bar, eventually standing them both up to embrace and prolong the kiss. Bleh.

We cut back to Hank and Lew headed for the front door of Karen/Hank's place and it looks like all is forgiven. Hank has his hands on Lew's shoulders, pushing him along to the front door, while Lew says he's sorry about Hank's cock. Hank tells *Lew* it isn't his cock. Lew says Hank should've told him. He's had paramedic training and may have been able to help. Hank wants to know how. Lew says, dunno, but maybe he could've felt around, made Hank feel better. Hank laughs and says, 'maybe next time'.

Lew apologizes for kissing Hank's 'old lady' and Hank reciprocates by apologizing for kissing Lew's, something Lew didn't know, until that moment. He's like 'fucking asshole! Did you penetrate?!' and Hank quickly assures Lew that no, he didn't, that friends don't let friends bang each other's soul mates. Lew says an a-fucking-men to that, and they hug. Awww. Lew says he'll see Hank later and off he goes.

Lew is a wonderful character and a great friend for Hank to have, after all. I realize I railed on him pretty bad a few times, because he was such a child and seemed Hell-bent on getting Hank into trouble, but the gentleman and the true friend came out in him, at last, it gets even better as the season winds down, but I learned to truly, madly, deeply love him in this episode. If nothing else, he faces problems head-on, doesn't give up until he's righted things, and he cared so much about Hank's disappearance that he just showed up to talk to Hank, having no idea what Hank might do when he got there.

And even when the worst case scenario manifested, Hank going childishly ballistic, wanting to kill Lew over a kiss (please, and again, spiting others for doing the same thing he's done), right then and there, Lew didn't just run out the door, but remained determined to stay until they'd worked things out. Cool. Hank's friendship was important enough to Lew that he wasn't going to just let it slide, ya know? I love that about him. I believe Hank really was Lew's only real friend, and Lew appreciated Hank sticking by him ...most of the time.

And yeah, I've known of Lew's ultimate fate for weeks and I'm crushed and still a little bitter, at the moment. That's gonna take some time to work through, for me. But in the meantime, a big ol' honkin' mim raspberry to whoever the idea came from. ;-PPP A dose of reality, sure, but one that leaves that bitter taste, if you know what I mean. Reality sucks.

Next, we get the longest actual conversation between Hank and Karen I believe we've ever witnessed, and it's a good one. Karen finally talks to Hank as she should have all along. She's honest, heartbreakingly so. I wasn't happy how she continues to put it all on Hank, the failure of their relationship and the roadblocks still in the way. I maintain it ain't all Hank's doing, and Karen had shown signs of duh-ing on that previously.

But in this convo, she sort of lays out the truth, her perception of Hank, and yeah, it sounds like he's the culprit that laid and continues to lay waste to any chances they have of ever being happy together again, conveniently overlooking her own contribution, and Hank pretty much allowing her to. Hank has no fight left in him, on this occasion, and I saw him allow himself the full weight of the guilt on his slumped shoulders. He didn't exactly give up, but he just accepted that Karen was right and he's the crux of the problem.

Still, I appreciate that she's still trying to get Hank to understand where he goes wrong, trying to love her and be with her, and it would appear that his admission (later in the ep, in his letter to Karen) that he didn't know how to be with her still holds true, 14 years later. He still doesn't know how to commit himself completely, still has all the same old impulsive tendencies toward hedonism and self-destruction, still can't quite decide who he wants to be, what he wants to do, how or whom he wishes to love.

I have to wonder how they managed to stay together all those years before the relationship soured and KAREN CHEATED ON HANK, and why they can't seem to find that balance, copasetic to them both, at one time. Magic certainly gets lost sometimes, but it's always out there, waiting to be rediscovered, no? Hank needs to find a way out of his self-absorption, and I really think if he could do that, they'd be okay. He's really so generous and romantic and loving, when he's able to see beyond the end of his own nose, or should I say 'dick'? Either organ, it just never seems to last very long. I have to keep hope for them, regardless, and I think this conversation was a nice eye-opener in a lot of ways. Maybe it'll help, in the long run.

Hanks starts out by apologizing for the mess he made, while trying to kill Lew, and dives right in to help pick things up off the floor. Karen tells Hank for the first time (?) that he's her best friend and she'd never fuck somebody just to get back at him. Hank says he knows that; that when Karen fucks somebody, she really wants to, and that's what scares him. Karen asks him what he wants to do, how does he want to proceed, and Hank says he wants to spend the rest of his days doing this, not cleaning up, but indicating being with and talking to Karen.

She asks if that isn't what they're already doing? Well yeah, Hank says, they talk about it incessantly, and all the problems that prevent them being together as a rule, but what if all those problems just magically went away? That's the problem, Karen says, they never do. Okay, Hank proposes, so she has a month left to live, how does she spend it? Karen says, with Becca. Hank's like, what? No room for Hank in there somewhere? Couple of dates, Karen acquiesces. Gee, thanks. Well, not Hank. He's wants Karen's eyes to be the last thing he sees. Is he the most awesomely romantic guy on the planet, or is it just me?

I have to interject here that there's a lovely black and white photograph of a young woman on the bookshelf behind Hank and I'm driving myself nuts trying to figure out if it's Becca. Anybody have any input? I can't imagine who else it might be. It's not Karen or Mia, I'm pretty sure, but I'm thinking it might be Becca. Nice photo, whoever it is.

Karen looks very thoughtful, maybe even touched at Hank's admission, but asks Hank if he knows what it is about Lew that Karen likes, I guess. No, Hank has no idea. Karen says Lew made a choice of art for his life, music is his life, and he made it and keeps it that way. On the other hand, Hank was never able to figure out who he wanted to be and his indecisiveness paralyzes him and hurts them all. She can feel his constant restlessness when he's around her. She obviously can't live with his restlessness, the flightiness he insists on, when things aren't going well for him, when he can't beat back his own demons or let anyone else help him beat them back.

She knows he loves her, that a moment like this will happen, he loves her, he wants her, he wants this family life with her, but that moment passes and he becomes like a ghost, an entity able to appear and disappear at will and without warning either way. She goes on to say that 14 years ago, 'I love you' was enough, almost revolutionary, but now, they're just words. She knows Hank means them, but gosh, she has no idea what they mean to Hank.

He hangs his head in shame, looks like, and before he can speak, the phone rings. "You wanna be saved?" Karen snarks. From the conversation, I gather she meant.

Hank grabs the phone, apparently still under the table where he threw it earlier. It's Dr. Reiss. Hank speaks to him very nebulously, the Mulder panic face on for the entire phone call, so that we, nor Karen have any idea what's being imparted. He thanks the doc and ends the call. His first word is, 'wow,' but then he tells Karen she was right; it's syphilis. He's kidding and Karen knows it, even if some of the pro reviewers apparently didn't, and responds with 'bullshit' and a big smile.

As they both rise to their feet again, at last, Hank tells Karen it's 'benign', and all he needs is some antibiotics to clear things up. For the record, if it had been syphilis, I believe Hank would have also imparted he'd need to abstain from sex for a while, so in no way do I believe he had syph. Again, I think without the proper post-surgical care and caution, he developed an infection in or near his surgical incision that spread to the lymph node in his groin, and the resulting inflammation or whatever caused the swelling, but that's just me. I'm no doctor, but...

Karen's jubilant. He's okay! "For now," Hank concedes and Karen rolls her eyes at the hypochondriac drama queen, first, but gives him a big, long, lingering hug and a smooch on the cheek or neck or whatever she could reach, and Hank asks if he can have a post-cancer scare mercy fuck now, but Karen says it's too late. He blew it.

I have to confess that I so empathize with Hank. He's a lot like me, actually. He means well, he tries to do right by everyone he loves, but there's always something in the way, something to hold him back, trip him up every, single time. Every time he gets anywhere close to true happiness and fulfillment, he implodes on himself, self-destructs and takes his happiness and all the people who make it for him down with him.

I think I know the state of mind that creates and recreates this vicious circle of life for Hank, but it's the most awful kind of circular logic to live by imaginable, and I wouldn't wish it on anybody, least of all Hank. Still, I think Hank has grown up never feeling worthy of anything good, forgot to get in line for the right to ever be happy, knows it's all his fault he's not, but dammit, he doesn't deserve to be. This is just how life is, when you're worthless and undeserving, and he'll just have to do the best he can, find pleasure where it falls or lays, and the rest he'll muddle through until it's time to die.

Rewards are all temporary, albeit worth seeking, but they're mostly meaningless/hollow, and usually offset by some repercussion equally as horrible, because he sees to it himself. Hank gets anywhere near bliss, and he suddenly realizes, 'hey! I'm not supposed to be happy! I don't deserve this! I'll be found out as an undeserving fraud and it'll be horrible!' and he self-destructs to make sure he isn't. He's his own harshest critic and worst enemy, and would rather punish himself, loathe himself better than anyone else, than to let anyone else do it for him. He makes his own shitty rotten luck.

I actually know the feeling, although I couldn't put the proper psychiatric terminology on it. I suppose all the tentacles of such a disorder would all grow from the essential; fear. Most every disorder starts with fear, seems like to me. It can come out like the fear of being happy, though. Is there a named phobia for that? I have no idea why anyone would resign themselves to thinking that way, but there you have it. It happens and no matter how much one wants to love, how much one wants to share oneself with others and celebrate one of the best things life has to offer, interaction with other people ("People who need people are the luckiest people in the world", eh?), there's a wall between you and there that just won't let you go there.

You could climb over it, sure, but what if you just ruined all the good stuff on the other side, too, instead of improving it with your presence, what if you find out it's not what you expected, what if it's not something you're good at, like you hoped, what if it's something you can't handle? What if, what if, what if? That's what I see Hank suffering from. Circular Logic Disorder, 'What if?' Syndrome. He thinks there are things he loves that are better off without him, when in reality, they're functional, but not as good without him and the only real thing keeping him away from improving the situation is him.

Nevertheless, Karen could've been describing me, and it hurt me almost as much as it hurt Hank, having the truth and/or consequences of the forever restless and indecisive hurled into my face like that. No, I don't go off half-cocked or half-chubbed seeking pleasures of the drink and flesh like Hank. I keep to myself a great deal more than I even leave the house, actually. I'm not the good-looking sex machine that Hank is, after all, in fact, I'm old and haggish, built like a skinny, prepubescent male, and don't hold my liquor well, so why bother? ;-P But that restlessness and inability to make a decision or move at all does indeed affect those around me in a negative way, and I'm constantly on the lookout for ways to change, like Hank. Trust me, my husband is a saint to put up with me like no one else will, and I still don't know why he does. <g> Poor guy.

But enough about me. We have this way cool last flashback to fit into the best episode of the series (my opinion, and it's been tough choosing, as always, because 204, 209, 211 and 212 were also quite stellar, thanks, not to mention the real jewels of season one), and this is already the wordiest review yet.

Hank and Karen are walking down a damp NYC sidewalk at night. Lots of folks out just walking around, typical of NYC. Hank's wearing that cute little hat that almost looks to small for him. This is their last walk together, maybe their last conversation, having decided Karen will 'take care of' the unintentional pregnancy, meaning she and Hank are history. I guess he's walking her home, since I'm guessing the apartment was Hank's. Still not sure, but I'm making a leap that they'd agreed the short romance was over, Karen was going to abort the baby, or maybe not, and Hank offered to at least walk her home.

He asks if he can call her, and she tells him she'd rather he didn't. So he asks her to call him and let him know how she's doing sometimes, and she says she will. Hank says, no, she won't, but he gets it. He stops, offers his hand and says it was awfully nice sharing this most unpleasant of milestones with her, and she says yeah, for her, too. Karen starts to walk away, but Hank asks her not to get lost out there. She continues on across the street.

Hank approaches a mailbox with the letter Karen's already read, remember, and Hank doesn't notice her stop and look back, hoping to see if he's going to mail the letter, but he stands pondering whether or not he should long enough that she sneaks a look back, just as he drops it in. For Karen, this changes the entire picture and shows her that Hank meant what he said in the letter, but couldn't say to her directly (and again, know the feeling), and that there just may be hope for them, and their unborn child, too, best case scenario. So see, not all Hank's actions are destructive. When he offers his truthful heart to the right person, the rewards can be endless, and for this one moment in time, he actually *didn't* blink and miss the moment that would've changed everything. He, instead, CREATED it himself! Go, Hank!

Karen calls to him, and he approaches her. She says she's going to a Cobain vigil and asks Hank if he'd like to join her. Hank claims he had his own vigil to attend, making me snicker (since I assume he had a Hank-loses-the-possible-love-of-his-life vigil planned for when he got home, most likely consisting of drinking himself into a stupor and kicking himself in the ass for being such a dink to Karen), and Karen insists she's serious. Hank joins her for a walk on down the sidewalk, informing Karen that she probably didn't know that he LU-U-U-H-Vs vigils. You don't say?

Then we have this wonderful montage of Hank and Karen in 1994 NYC, as their lives and Karen's pregnancy progress, to the lyrical strains of Pearl Jam's "Nothingman", and the even more enthralling strains of Hank's voice, reading the letter that changed everything. It goes something like this...

Dear Karen,

If you're reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it, so good for me.

You don't know me very well, but if you get me started, I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me. This, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to write. There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it.

I met someone. It was an accident. I wasn't looking for it. I wasn't on the make. It was a perfect storm. She said one thing, I said another. Next thing I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now, there's this feeling in my gut she might be The One. She's completely nuts in a way that makes me smile; highly neurotic, a great deal of maintenance required.

She is you, Karen. That's the good news.

The bad is that I don't know how to be with you right now. And it scares the shit out of me. Because if I'm not with you right now, I have this feeling we'll get lost out there. It's a big, bad world, full of twists and turns, and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment, the moment that could have changed everything.

I don't know what's going on with us, and I can't tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me. But damn, you smell good. Like home. And you make excellent coffee. That's got to count for something, right?

Call me.

Unfaithfully yours,

Hank Moody

Needless to say, my eyes are misty just reading it, so you can imagine what happened the first time I saw and heard it. Lovely piece o' work, Hanky, and my kudos for changing your whole life by expressing your heart on paper, then actually mailing it. Been a few times I wish I'd done that, and didn't. That fear thing. But you, you did it! Go, guy.

As Hank reaches the "I don't know what's going on with us" part of the letter, we fade back into the present. Hank and Karen are still holding one another, sort of slow-dancing in the dining room, and I love Karen's thumb in Hank's back pocket. Becca walks in, Hank invites her into a three-way Moody hug, Karen gives Hank a big, smooshy kiss on the cheek. They all look so happy and contented as we fade to white, rather than black, for a change.

I remember thinking how much like last year's season finale the ending was, and it would've made a nice season finale, I think. Only I wouldn't wish the end of this season to come two eps early if my life depended on it, so I'm glad there's more to come. As I've alluded to, I've already seen both eps 211 and 212, and they're near-equal in excellence, but nothing's going to top this one for me. At least not until perhaps next season.

And this season's closer is a good one, too, although I have to admit that I saw it before we got the good news about season three, and the 'could go either way' ending we're left with had me worried that it was our good-bye, and not nearly as satisfying a good-bye as what I'm still hoping for ultimately. But watching it again now, with the joyous news under my belt, I'm totally stoked for next season and see all kinds of possibilities ahead of us.

But this wasn't the season finale, hallelujah, and I don't even want to think of it that way. Still two more fabulous eps and a whole season three to go, yippee! For now, I'm going off to meditate and chant in favor of David winning the Satellite Award he's nominated for (winners announced Sunday, December 14th), and keep my finger's crossed that he (and maybe the show, too, this time) will nab another Golden Globe nomination in the upcoming week (noms announced Thursday, December 11th, keep in mind) for his brilliant portrayal of Hank Moody. Go, David!

In the meantime, everyone have a wonderful week, and thanks for reading.

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