"Meet the Blacks"
Evening everyone. I'm here for the recap. What's that? What do you mean the episode aired Sunday night? Well, you're already here and you don't have any plans, so why not read the recap? There are plenty of leftovers, and they don't include any (ahem) black log cake.
So it was a pretty, pretty good episode. We got our overarching storyline for the season in the Blacks. To make up with Cheryl after a typically horrendous evening - the two of them and the Greenes all showing up accidentally on purpose at Marty Funkhauser's party a day late - Larry agrees to "adopt" a family of victims of a Katrina-like disaster. Maybe he should have just blamed his appalling behavior at the after-party on the fact that he didn't get any sleep. After all, he did have to destroy a malfunctioning smoke detector with a baseball bat. How was he to know that Loretta Black (nicely underplayed by
Vivica A. Fox) would be an indoor smoker?
Of course, since things can never start off on the right foot with Larry, he makes real shmo-hawks of himself and Cheryl by picking the Blacks up from the airport late. As if that weren't enough of an affront, he introduces himself with the absurd, "So let me see, your last name is Black? That'd be like if my last name was Jew - Larry Jew, 'cause I'm Jewish." Happy Rosh Hashanah, Larry.
But what does Larry get for his largesse? A burned-out house, a pissed-off wife, two sets of angry friends who think he's punctuality challenged, and an addiction to erotic cakes from the 26th Street Bakery.
I'm not sure whether it should scare me that I can completely identify with many of Larry's situations. Who hasn't stumbled around half asleep in the middle of the night searching for a beeping smoke detector, or bungled an introduction? How many functions have we all tried to get out of by making up ridiculous excuses? It's the whole "show about nothing" concept taken to a new, horrifying level.
So between now and Sunday, you can play a thousand pickup sticks for money, sing improv karaoke or use the awesome term shmo-hawk when someone cuts you off, but the one thing you don't have to worry about is me showing up on time to the airport. Yes, I'll be there, and I won't even make fun of your last name.
