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I was rather bored yesterday. Boredom has a nasty habit of striking on occasion, but I can usually cure it with quiet evening of reading and ordering helpful, no obligation information about Craftmatic adjustable beds. I appreciate knowing that the Model II is cheaper than standard "flat" beds, and that the new Model III is half the price of the Model II. Regrettably, the commercial fails to point out that if you are really talented, you can spell "McLuhan" with a Craftmatic.
Somnolent studies aside, no amount of geriatric mattress calisthenics could sate this onslaught of ennui and I soon found myself in the local Safeway. I was standing in the cash- only express checkout waiting for some boor buying a cartload of fifty TV dinners with a cheque. Between glares at the cretin, I came to grips with the shocking truth of my situation. I did not see Elvis, nor did I see God: I was standing in line at a grocery store with an armload of firewood.
Hell has many definitions and descriptions for it is a frighteningly personal persecution. My suburban epiphany struck home; struck my home. Here I was, the modern-day hunter and gatherer, taking dinner back to the house slung over my shoulder, firewood tucked under my arm. It was a painful, albeit brief, experience to see your entire value system and heritage spread open like an eviscerated doe; a microsecond of dying for the sins of suburbia. I might as well have been nailed to a Duraflame tree screaming "my god! why hast thou forsaken me?!"
The characters of Melrose Place find themselves standing in personal Safeways, the cords of "would" and "could" binding them tightly to their hells. For despite its vain attempts at hipness, Melrose Place is very suburban, exhibiting the same banalities and fears that gave birth to the lawnmower fifty years ago. White, middle class, ho-hum existence. Any form of deviation from the norm is evil. Church bells are now curves. Reality is the next-door neighbour. The dream is a nightmare.
The trauma of purchasing firewood at a supermarket could be attributed to some personal insecurity. Perhaps Robert Bly would blame my father, or John Bradshaw would point a finger at my first girlfriend. Maybe it was a twinge of concern that one day I will buy wood with a television. It is highly unlikely that it reflected any anxiety stemming from Tracy Davis' article in the Spring 1991 Journal of Popular Culture entitled "Theatrical Antecedents of the Mall that Ate Downtown".
If anything, it was a brief rush of adrenaline because the buffoon ahead of me decided he wanted fifty "Raw Meat" TV dinners, but had mistakenly picked up fifty "Fat-Free and Fancy" dinners and now wanted someone to exchange them. Could I have a price check on murder at checkstand 1?
"With the supermarket as our temple and the singing commercial as our litany, are we likely to fire the world with an irresistible vision of America's exalted purposes and inspiring way of life?" - Adlai Stevenson.
Ex cathedra.
- ian
Relationships seized control of the Melrose Place plot machine as each character struggled to discover new characters to sleep (or argue) with.
The Maniacal Menage-A-Trois between Billy, Steve and Allison took a wild spin out of control. Allison dumped Billy last week for Steve's Bulging Wallet, but this week Steve decided he would rather spend his cash on Paris than waste it on Allison's Trojan Horse of Desire. Allison makes a last-ditch lunge at the Credit Card O' Passion, but comes up empty when Guilt (a novel emotion for her to feel) prevents her from finalising the Transaction. Unfortunately for Steve, his Device Driver is incompatible with Allison's Operating System, so rather than try to hack together a Maintenance Release, he gives up and flies to France.
Michael moves in with Jane and immediately monopolises her life. Apparently the paralysis extends to every part of his body, save for his mouth and the muscles that control his sneer. He freaks out when Jane tries to keep her life normal, (ok, "the way it was before he showed up"), and starts prying. Jane ignores him, thoughtfully dropping some juicy hints about Robert to drive Michael up the wall while she is gone. Later that day, when Mikey tries to hop on his Mighty Steed and falls, Sidney drops by to help him up, but not before delivering some great "I'm a closet psychotic" lines.
In the Big Story, Jake and the FBI Boys nail Palmer for his "Repli-car" scam. Palmer, of course, asserts Jake was the Master Mind behind the Cunning Plan. Uh-huh. Jake as "The Brain": he wouldn't even wear shoes if they didn't come with Velcro closures. Amanda comes to Daddy's support and castigates the Jakester for several scenes until he slinks off with his tail between his legs to Shooters, where Jo is castrating some wimpy guy on the pool table. [Tune in to the next Update for an examination of the Melrose Place "womyn"...] Domination is a definite turn-on for Amanda as she immediately gets in a garbage wrestling match with Billy and consumes him with passion, one of the weirdest "Light My Fire" scenes in the wacky erotic history of Melrose Place.
Ya know, one Update reader suggested that the Melrose Place pool is actually filled with toxic waste; with the recent plot twists, I'm inclined to believe it.
This week I would like to reach into the Melrose Place Update mailbag and answer a reader question. This week's question comes to us from Anne, who writes from Stony Brook, NY. Her letter reads:
"Dear Dr. Ferreud: I would like to know why it is that Allison of the gratuitously short skirt is able to accessorise her business suits with high heeled backless mules and yet not look either a) disgusting or b) rentable-by-the-hour, like any other normal female I know would. Is it that on Melrose Place, as in the far reaches of modern science, basic laws of physics do not apply? Or is it me who has entered an altered state of consciousness, one in which customary behaviour and inhibitions are thrown to the wind?
Sincerely, Anne."
Dear Anne: Please do not question your state of consciousness! The act of reading the Melrose Place Update singularly proves that you are awake and existing in *some* reality; do you really think any human could dream or generate real-time what you read in the Update?
You are entirely correct about the negation of physical constants and laws on Melrose Place; the fact that Jake is alive illustrates Signor Spelling's obvious disdain for Darwinian selection, and belief in a benevolent god. Jane's breast growth between the first and second season is yet another violation of biological imperatives; one failed pregnancy does not make a Pamela Anderson or Anna Nicole Smith.
Allison's high heels are a unique commentary on contemporary business practices, particularly the "downsizing" trend among American corporations. Spelling dresses Allison like a cheap slut because all workers have become corporate sluts for hire.
Downsizing drove an explosion of temporary workers and positions. This tribe of Bedouin employees prostitutes its knowledge and skills to the highest bidder. Corporations do not pay workers to stay within the maternal confines of the company; positions have become contract or temporary and workers are paid to *leave* lest they consume corporate benefit resources. The backless mules and proliferation of tight "exec-u-dresses" symbolise this trend.
Bob and Jane get in a tiff,
The Melrose Place band wails a riff
The Pool Boy wanders up and down,
While Michael tries to get around.
A nurse from hell injects some strife,
As she moves in to rule Mike's life.Lauren pawns off cheap cocaine,
And Sidney quits her job again.
Somewhere in this mess so fine,
Katya calls up Matt to whine.
Nikki leaves to go see mother,
Sydney leaves to go see Father.Allison apologises,
Pissed-off Jo philosophises.
Feeling just a mite aghast?
You won't be when this week has passed.
So sit down for a slower pace,
As Christmas comes to Melrose Place...
1) Michael is paralysed from the waste DOWN. So why can't he make his own toast? Come to think of it, try to count how many times he moves his feet when he's falling in and out of his wheelchair...
2) Amanda threatens to kick Jake out in a week. Unfortunately for the Ice Goddess, California state law affirms that without a lease, the tenant must be given 30 days notice, unless the complex is under rent control. [I'll ignore our previous debates over rent control at Melrose Place, although $400/month is pretty cheap for a two-bedroom in L.A...]
Amanda, however, has Jake's stupidity working for her, although one reader wisely pointed out Jake's lack of mental agility could qualify him for additional California state protection. Thanks to several readers who pointed this out and were thoughtful [bored] enough to provide legal references...
3) When Steve makes his move on Allison, notice how the "background music" instantly fades away, [kudos to another observant Update reader]. Steve has a Clapper hooked up to the CD player...
More tears and anguish about my unfeeling mix-up of the AMC Gremlin and AMC Pacer. (I mistakenly referred to them as the same car last week.) As one reader pointed out: "A Pacer is a funky-looking car with many fine qualities. A Gremlin is a stupid-looking car with many problems."
Just to set the record straight, the annoyed reader owns a beyond-cherry, daily-driver Pacer...
If Spelling ever resurrects "The Love Boat" he should cast Allison as "Julie the Manipulative Cruise Director", Billy as "Doc Hormone" and Sidney as "The Captain's Damned Obnoxious Daughter". What the heck, cast Michael as "Isaac the Angry Bartender" since he just has to sit behind the bar down on the Promenade Deck, point at people with two fingers, and smile...
Now that the Melrose Place Pool Boy has usurped Garbage Guy as this season's "Stock Footage Bit Actor for Melrose Place Transitions", it raises an interesting set of issues: namely, who is the Pool Boy? Who should the Pool Boy be? Should the position rotate among guest stars?
Is he Bill Clinton, working undercover to "feel the pain" of today's youth? Is he David Hasslehoff, moonlighting from his job down the street on Baywatch? Does Ross Perot really own Melrose Place and cleans the pool to keep his eye on Amanda? Why not hire Don Knotts to provide excellent, wide-eyed double-takes when he overhears snippets of double-entendre conversations?
Then again, why should the Pool Boy be male? Is Kimberly really alive? Could she be skulking around the Melrose Place pool waiting for her chance to take Michael for one final skinny dip? Make it the "Pool Babe"; a cheap knock-off of Home Improvement's "Tool Time" girl. Melrose Place desperately needs something better than Sidney to fill out the bustier wardrobe...
Or maybe the rumours are true: the Melrose Place Pool Boy is Michael Jackson on the lam.
We at the Update shall not rest until the truth is told. You have our word...
"A mind aware of its own rectitude." - Virgil, "The Aeneid", book I, l, 604.
"Every moment of every day, I'm aware." - Michael to Jane, seconds before revealing himself to her as The Messiah...
"I'm sorry." - Steve. Speaking of hanging around Allison too much...
"By Tuesday next week, I'll be out of your hair for good." - Steve sets sail to Tahiti with James Michener. Anything Steve can do to improve Allison's hair would be appreciated.
"What does Billy have that I don't?" - Steve realises he has the ranch, but Billy has the spurs...
"There's one more thing..." - Agent Hill opens his trenchcoat...
"Things change, Mr. Hanson, and when they do, we don't have to adjust." - Agent Hill reminisces about the good old days of Abscam and the BATF when little things like planning and individual rights never got in the way of a good government sting. Palmer has a fleeting resemblance to Dick Kelly...
"Meet me tonight at 8:00 at the corner of Melrose and Market." - Amanda calls up Jake after reading one too many Hardy Boys mystery stories. He better not bring the police with him or someone's gonna get hurt...
"How did you figure it out?!" - Billy, incredulous, wonders how Jake pieced together Palmer's scam. (Hint: someone told him...) If Billy lived in Bayport, his named would be Chet Morton.
"Can't we be friends?" - Sid appeals for calm at Melrose Place.
"People can't be trusted." - Amanda, in bed with Billy. Uh-huh...
"All the great women are taken, as you say, by rich jerks." - Billy begins to formulate his theory about women and life.
"How's it going?" "Twenty bucks richer; can't complain." - Jo slips up and reveals The Truth: Billy was right; it's a cookbook!
"Are you OK?" "Just dandy." - Exchange between Billy and Amanda. Next week we get vocabulary words like "swell" and "spiffy".
"If I were you, I'd just tell the FBI to go to hell..." - Billy, the paragon of self-control, hands off valuable advice to Jake. Billy will have a Cabinet appointment before the end of the season.
"I have a confession to make." - Allison mistakes Billy for the Pope. Hey! They're both serious guys; it's an honest mistake.
"I must have a guardian angel watching over me." - Steve extends the allegory. Any angel that leads a man to Allison is working for the wrong team...
"You son of a bitch!! I'll crush you!!" - Palmer hates Jake.
"There's some people you can never know." - Dr. Palmer, (or was that Mr. Woodward?), needs help.
"You can tell a lot about a person by the car they [sic] drive." - Video Date #1 to Billy. Just for the record, I drive a banana-yellow 1973 Volkswagen Thing. Dr. Ferreud motors around town in a jet-black, 1959 Cadillac Eldorado; he's always been an exhibitionist...
"I love you Allison." - Steve, still pondering the career change, realises working at Microsoft requires a slight change in your love life. Mother doesn't like little employee boys who ignore her...
(c) 1993 Ian Ferrell. The Melrose Place Update is published weekly and distributed via electronic mail and the Graces of Internet. Each article contains a summary of that week's Melrose Place episode with analysis and commentary.
Melrose Place Update is an all-digital production. There is no hiss. Analogue copies of previous Melrose Place Updates are available.
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