Fun With Flags

Amy: “It’s called ‘Fun With Flags.’ They’re not at half-mast, nobody died, let’s keep it upbeat.”

Pretty sure Sheldon’s web-based show (does anyone else recall an earlier reference to the breakthrough?) could have been a suitable title for this episode, with a few tweaks. Fun With Sheldon. Fun With Moving. Fun With Tea.

Amy might be neurotic and uptight, but she doesn’t hold her ground dating Sheldon Cooper for nothing. Sheldon fails (in true Texas fashion) to defend her honor the first time when she and Will Wheaton argue over directing. He later fraternizes with the enemy, while remaining characteristically oblivious of Amy’s mood. When he does eventually lament to Penny about the situation—and when chamomile tea fails to calm his nerves, so Penny recommends tea of the “Long Island” variety—a boost of reality and alcohol-blood levels give him the kick in the pants he needs to fight for his “lady-folk.” Not so much for retaining his dinner.

 Meanwhile, Howard Wolowitz finally moves out of his mother’s house. At first. After spending the episode going back and forth between his anxiety and Bernadette’s understandable insistence, I found myself shocked to see the gutted second floor bedroom. Then, touched when I heard the magic trick story and truth behind his attachment to his mother. She needed him like he needed her.

I’m not sure whether or not Howard will stay out of the next for good, or whether Sheldon’s learned not to take tea advice (though he’s free to take girl advice) from Penny, but I found myself pretty sure of tonight’s quotables:

Amy: “I’m mad at you, Sheldon.”
Sheldon: “Hmm. Eat one of your Luna bars.”

Howard: “She patted me on the back and I happened to burp.”

Penny:  “[Long Island iced tea has] calmed the pants off me a couple times.”

Sheldon: “[Amy’s] a unique blend of Saint and squirrel.”

Sheldon: “I’ll tell you…I’m from Texas. Need I say more?”

What If Joey Was President?

As iconic a show as Friends became for all the 2000’s and before, a good number of set paraphernalia became familiar sights for TV-show audiences. Anyone could recognize a decoration in either Joey and Chandler’s, or Monica and Rachel’s apartments at a glance, with little to no effort at all!

Which brings me to the less-recognizable poster, though just as important, that remained a permanent part of Chandler and Joey’s place, no matter the marriages, houseguests, or how many times the lease changed hands (or added roommate editions).  This would be the Laurel and Hardy poster from the back wall, a black and white photo still out of the 1928 movie Leave Them Laughing, one year after Laurel and Hardy became the iconic team they’re known as today.

But who were Laurel and Hardy? More than that, why this poster, of all posters?

I don’t think its any accident Laurel and Hardy, two male comedic pairs, found themselves the backdrop of Joey and Chandler’s lives…two more male comedic pairs.

The parallels don’t stop there. The Laurel and Hardy brand of comedy evoked slapstick humor, where Laurel was the more naïve relief to the pompous Hardy. Let’s picture that a second: who else do we know so naïve and perhaps a little slow, elbow-to-elbow with someone so sarcastic and quick to talk back?

Oh. Right.

What’s more, the two interacted on the silver screen a la “tit for tat,” or using equivalent retaliation, where one side matches another side’s action. AKA, when one person speaks, the other answers. When one person pulls a practical joke, the other responds in kind. Or, as good “friends” should, when one person needs a helping hand, word of advice (however contrived), or laugh, the other can be depended on just as easily.

Now I think that’s a comparison we can all easily recognize.

Let's Talk: Beverly Hofstadter

I’m not here to sit down and have a chat with you all about Halloween, for once. You know what that means—the holiday season is upon us and I’ll annoy you that way instead. Still, it could be worse: you could lack any sort of holiday festivities, decorations, gifts, blog posts. Who could endure such a cold, cruel world, you ask?

Leonard could. He has, and does, until he sets up his first Christmas tree on the set of Big Bang Theory. All thanks to the shining grace of two-odd episodes: Beverly Hofstadter, Leonard’s psychologist.
And his mother.

If Leonard thought he could escape her insight by moving out and working at the University, he thought right…up until he met Sheldon. It took a brain scan to determine, but like mother like roommate, from smarts and wiles to how they behave when they’re drunk (scenario notwithstanding). Leonard may not get it “any way he wants it,” but he gets…something. A good dose of amusement, I’m sure.

Not to mention the scene when he brings her to work in an effort to justify his worth. Beverly turns Doctor on the entire gang, especially diagnosing then-single Howard and Raj’s relationship. In her words, the duo created an “Ersatz homosexual marriage” out of their friendship to “satisfy their need for intimacy.” Sure, they bickered like an old married couple, but what would the new Mrs. Wolowitz have to say about that?

Quotables include:

    ‘So, Dr. Hofstadter, Leonard rarely talks about his incredibly successful brother and sister. I understand that unlike Leonard, they’re at the top of their respective fields.’

    —

    ‘Howard lives with his mother and Raj can’t speak to women unless he’s drunk.’

     -- Howard and Leonard, in retaliation.

Perhaps Beverly administers the advice the cast never knew they needed; though for Leonard, she saved an especially warm, “Buck up, sissypants.”

Bon Apa-Sweet

 Was this episode worth the wait? Oh please. Is the French Horn blue? Is Nick the Bad Boy Chef?

 Besides Nick’s cable-access cooking show, the episode ignited all of my feelings for Robin and Ted, Robin and Barney, Barney and Brover and, lastly, Victoria. But we’ll get to all of that in just a moment.

I don’t think anyone is floored that Ted can’t get the hint. Poor Ted. Poor kind, sweet, naïve Ted, who just wants a woman to grow old with. Unfortunately, that woman won’t be Victoria. I’m still holding out hope it’s Robin. Also that Robin and Barney reunite. My feelings are complicated.

           

Episode live-commentary: “She’ll never be in love with me. She’ll never be my wife. She’ll never be the person I grow old with. Victoria…Victora could be.”
-- Ted Mosby. Spoiler alert, she probably isn’t.

Barney discovers the meaning of a “true” wingman. Unlike wingmen, dogs don’t possess wings, but they’re awfully cute and do come to some small service at the end of the day. Literally, for Barney “Bro” Stinson.

Now, am I missing a loop here, or does Marshall’s new hairstyle and collared-sweater attire come as a surprise to anyone else? Lilly’s making an honest man out of him, so it seems. Well. “Honest” and “man” are left up to debate after this episode’s happenings.

Episode live-commentary: “Marshall, why is [your Inner Goddess] Southern?” “Shh, don’t break the connection.”
-- Ted and Lilly, while Marshall was offering The Help.

While I pick my jaw up off the floor after the drastic endscene, I leave you all tonight with the best of: Nick’s catch-phrase search.

“All aboard the chow-chow train!”

“Oh my gosh, who’s ready to nosh?”

“And now, who’s ready to eat my meat? Oh, come on!”

“They’re gonna be bon apa-sweet! Damn.”

Sorry Nick. Not much can really compete with bam!

The Undisputed--

“True” to my words, I decided to describe what I feel Barney Stinson’s story—or perhaps, how Barney Stinson sees life, the universe, and everything—solely based off what he’s called a “true story.” I’ve never seen in one sitting at how MANY things he’s called “true,” but I can take a guess at how many “stories” he’s fed Ted, Robin, Lilly and Marshal for eight whole seasons.

Evidently, he’s never experienced sadness, or given way to weaknesses of the heart—with the exception of Robin. (“You know what Marshall needs to do. He needs to stop being sad. When I get sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead. True story.”)

He has no need for a doctor—in fact, he was a doctor. (“Whenever I get sick, I stop being sick and be awesome instead. True story.”)

And none of his actions preclude a shred of forethought or nod to common decency. (“In my body, where the shame gland should be, there’s a second awesome gland. True story.”)

Fun fact, Barney Stinson is also a blogger. I’m nowhere near close to being Barney Stinson, however. Soon. I’m working on it.

And finally:

“Jesus waited three days to come back to life. It was perfect! If he had only waited one day, a lot of people wouldn’t have even heard he died. They’d be all, “Hey Jesus, what up?” and Jesus would probably be like, “What up? I died yesterday!” and they’d be all, “Uh, you look pretty alive to me, dude…” and then Jesus would have to explain how he was resurrected, and how it was a miracle, and the dude’d be like “Uhh okay, whatever you say, bro…” And he’s not gonna come back on a Saturday. Everybody’s busy, doing chores, workin’ the loom, trimmin’ the beard, NO. He waited the perfect number of days, three. Plus it’s Sunday, so everyone’s in church already, and they’re all in there like “Oh no, Jesus is dead”, and then BAM! He bursts in the back door, runnin’ up the aisle, everyone’s totally psyched, and FYI, that’s when he invented the high five. That’s why we wait three days to call a woman, because that’s how long Jesus wants us to wait.”

…Barney Stinson grasped the entire point of childhood Sunday school entirely undistracted and unaffected by crippling ADHD.

Every bit of the above story is, without a doubt, true. Tune in to How I Met Your Mother tomorrow at 8 pm—the new 8 pm!

"Broda"

It’s clear Barney Stinson surrounds himself with the “awesome” and how to achieve the “awesome.” Much like how I surround myself with how to achieve “bro” and “Stinson status.”  When he isn’t dropping ridiculously long and impressive awesome quotes, he talks about how to be awesome, how he is awesome, and how to become awesome.

Besides a contest on how many times I can type “awesome,” I’m writing this article to take a look at all the awesome Barney’s said, done, and used.

“Think of me like Yoda, but instead of being little and green, I wear suits and I'm awesome. I'm your bro—I'm Broda!”

-- Barney Stinson (the “bro” and “awesome” all in the same quote)

Barney usually talks himself out of rough spots by replacing bad things with “awesome.” These span from common emotions and kindness, all the way to every shred of moral fabric in his body. When he talks about his awesome-composition, it’s in a shedding-weakness context.

“In my body, where the shame gland should be, there is a second awesome gland. True story.”

“Here's the mini-cherry on top of the regular cherry on top of the sundae of awesomeness that is my life.”

"When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead."

He doesn’t stop at replacing priority internal organs with awesome—he fixes his entire décor around awesome. Have you seen these awesome (and “awesome”) posters? Barney’s unclear job sports a fantastic office space, featured in a few episodes, along with likely hardball motivational posters. These posters mimic the decorations on-set, include some pretty awesome pictures if I do say so myself, and the latter iconic “awesome” quote.

Follow me in assembling all the necessary items of awesome! I fully intend to put myself this one step closer toward living like Barney Stinson, just in time for the holiday season.

Impressions

Impressions—assumptions, judgments, and literal impersonations—ruled Big Bang Theory tonight in a more plot-moving manner than the last couple episodes or so. Who else was shocked to hear Penny going back to school?! I hope she finishes the season on a degree track—even if I puzzled over what this could mean for the future of Big Bang.

Either way, I’ll dissect the episode into favorite moments based on all the ways we see “impressions.” Not counting being personally impressed.

Sheldon’s first-impression of Steven Hawking takes a slip off the bunk-bed slide when he discovers the professor’s poor losing side. At first I thought some random player stole Steven Hawking’s name and that would be the end of it, but with the episode’s progress came new questions: does Steven Hawking just have an account, or a whole Facebook? Doesn’t that make you wonder? Not to mention, who took Dr. Hawking as the smack-talking type? Although the look on Leonard’s face after each “neener-neener” made staying the last two minutes of the episode completely worth it.

Penny shakes the show moreso when she uses—and abuses—Leonard’s over-reaching need to help. No, he wasn’t right to read her paper behind her back; I actually spent that part of the episode yelling at him to stop through my TV. Penny, likewise, shouldn’t have wrangled Amy and Bernadette into helping her redo her paper, no matter how much Amy reveled in the possible popularity.

Actual impersonations peppered the half-hour the most thoroughly. Some returns to old favorites—Raj’s American accent and Howard’s Steven Hawking impression—along with new attempts—Howard’s Indian accent and Penny’s mimicry of Leonard. Why copying became the name of the game, I’m not sure, but it added new, subtle dimensions to an already incredible episode. I wish I could say the same of the confusion behind the name of THIS game: “Words With Friends.”