We opened this episode of Desperate Housewives with a montage of post-tornado Wisteria Lane. Judging from the destruction, the creators might want to consider a crossover episode with Extreme Home Makeover. While Mary Alice read a passage about small acts of kindness from Chicken Soup for a Desperate Housewife’s Soul, I tried to imagine what was going through the minds of the characters and the actresses as they surveyed the devastation.
Bree: I doubt this cup of water will fix Lynette’s torn vocal cords.
Marcia: I’m delivering her water, next I’ll be handing her an Emmy.
Susan: Finally, a disaster that’s not my fault.
Terri: I won’t let go of Felicity until my character gets a better story line.
Lynette: I’ll never forgive Tom if he dies and leaves me with his illegitimate child and that frickin’ pizzeria.
Felicity: First, I’ll thank my husband, then Marc Cherry, then my co-stars….
Edie: I wonder where I could get one of those sandwiches they’re passing around.
Nicollette: I wonder when I’ll be included in the opening credits.
Mrs. McCluskey: If Ida lives and I don’t find that cat, I’m as good as dead anyway.
Kathryn Joosten: I totally thought I’d be killed off.
After weeks of wondering if Marc Cherry was gutsy enough to murder the entire Scavo clan, we got our answer. Behind wooden board number 1 was Penny. Behind jagged piece of wreckage number 2, we get Parker. Next it’s Humpty, followed by Dumpty, and then Daddy’s Dirty Little Secret. (When did she start to call Lynette ”Mom”?) And finally, Tom Scavo emerged, with the not so compelling news that Ida had not survived. I thought the cut to the abbreviated opening credits was a little insensitive. You know, when an apple falls from above and crushes somebody? I felt bad for laughing, until I met Ida’s family.
Now, I know this TV Watch isn’t exactly the forum to compose my will, but family, should I die, I call my ashes get shotgun. Don’t put me in the cup holder. Also, don’t bother trying to sell my stuff on eBay. (I’m broke, I’ve already tried pawning it off, and no one wants it.)
While Lynette and Mrs. McC packed the junk that the dearly departed Ida had accumulated (I’ll take that ”Where’s the Beef” T-shirt if no one’s claiming it), Lynette discovered that Ida was part of the All-American Girls baseball league. Wow. I wonder if she met Geena Davis and Madonna. Turns out, Ida was quite the fielder and even made the only unassisted triple play in league history. What a crackerjack! Still wouldn’t call her a ”friend” to ”everyone,” though. Yes, I’m looking at you, Mary Alice. Enough with the misleading voice-overs, mmmkay? Parker made an appearance, and while Lynette showered the little miracle with kisses, he told her that Ida died saving the entire family. Lynette got teary. Then Tom Hanks made a cameo (check your DVRs; I’m sure you just missed it) and said, ”There’s no crying in baseball!”
There’s also no sprinkling of cremated bodies on the baseball diamond, but that didn’t stop Lynette and Karen from honoring Ida’s last wish. While Ida’s family members drove home with an urn of dust bunnies next to their sweating soda cans, Lynette put Operation Ash Drop into effect. Seeing Lynette dart around the field with bits of Ida trailing behind was priceless. I loved Mrs. McCluskey’s eulogy, as she tried not to get too emotional reciting Mary Elizabeth Frye’s well-known poem. Everything about this scene worked for me. In fact, I hope my burial involves heavy-duty metal cutters, lawbreaking, a heartfelt speech, and a good old-fashioned police chase. RIP, Ida Greenberg. And Toby the cat (MIA, presumably dead). And Scruffles the possum. And uh, Victor. (In that order.)
Victor’s dead, and Gaby was devastated. Not about Victor. About not getting any money. Duh. She sat front and center at the funeral, admiring her grieving-widow look in a compact mirror. Yeah, she’s born with it, but with Gaby, it’s also a lot of Maybelline. Milton came to mourn his son’s death, but mostly to let Gaby know she wouldn’t be profiting from the politician’s very timely death. Milton wasn’t going the ”Do not stand at my grave and weep” route; he planned to storm the pulpit and declare Gaby a ”cheating, lying whore” in front of the entire congregation. I’m not sure if that would be honoring his son’s memory, but it sure would have been memorable. (I fear this is more along the lines of how my funeral will go.) Gaby kinda took that as her cue and left, holding back tears, but she still worked the church aisle like a runway. A true model at heart. Or whatever Gaby has that keeps her blood circulating.
Love is blind. Metaphorically. Unless you’re Carlos. Gaby went to visit, and to soften the blow of his blown-away millions, she loaded him up with morphine. ”I’m texting someone, heh-heh?” She could have just played a Mary Alice voice-over. That puts my dad to sleep in under 15 seconds. When a visit to Al’s was unsuccessful (don’t you just hate it when the colleagues doing your illegal business just up and die?), Gaby still saw bright things for their future together. ”I know this is bad, but we have each other!” And that, my friends, is what you’d call blind optimism. While I’m sure this development has loads of comedic potential (Gaby leads Carlos into walls, Carlos leans in and kisses the wrong woman, Gaby puts a leash around Carlos so she doesn’t run off and forget about him every time she sees something shiny, and on and on), let’s hope Carlos gets his vision back within four or so episodes. Or before it makes my eyes burn.
NEXT: Bree pimps out Andrew