Freaks and Geeks

On a trip to the library a few months ago I snatched up a Lucky Day copy of Judd Apatow's book, "Sick in the Head." As someone who loves nothing more than to ask people deeply personal, rapid-fire questions until they fake a phone call and slink away, I love to read interviews and have a special fondness for books containing nothing but (Terry Gross, Studs Terkel, etc). I really enjoyed Apatow's relaxed, genuinely interested interview style but my absolute favorite piece from the book was Apatow going deep on the show Freaks and Geeks; how Paul Feig came up with the idea, the casting, the production, the constant obstacles created by a disinterested network and especially, the excessive lengths the show's creators went to in order to keep the young, unknown cast as authentic and grounded as possible.

Reading the book demanded that I spend the next few weeks rewatching the show whenever I could. Outside of The Wonder Years and My So-Called Life I can't think of many other shows that manage to capture the cringe-worthy, heartbreaking and absurd moments of adolescence so perfectly. I let my oldest son watch a few scenes - the one where Sam attempts to become the school mascot in order to get closer to Cindy Sanders, Bill Haverchuck pranking Coach Fredricks as retaliation for the cruel, humiliating use of the "choosing teams" PE model. He laughed, even though he didn't really get it. And that's okay. I do know that in the next 3 or 4 years we'll have mandatory viewings of the show in it's entirety (separately, we only have so much saved for his future therapy) so he can see that, yes, this is how it is, and how it's always been and, more importantly, see? it could always be so, so much worse. This show holds an added amount of street cred since every plot line in each episode was actually inspired by real life events. The writers, early on, were asked to write down their most humiliating, saddest, hilarious moments which were later read aloud and then used in the show.

If you've watched the Freaks and Geeks you'll know the genius apparent in each episode but if you have not, I cannot recommend a weekend binge session enough. Cancelled long before its time, Freaks and Geeks went out on a very high note, with the last episode largely centered around The Grateful Dead's American Beauty album. Even the most Dead-indifferent viewer will be unable to deny the power of that record and its significance - historical and musical. Although American Beauty was released in 1970 and Freaks and Geeks centers around the 1980-81 school year, the sentiment of the songs still manage to perfectly encapsulate the feelings of restlessness, angst and anticipation found at the end of high school each year. Another longstanding truth, right up there with book-checking and lame parents.

As someone who never really felt much for The Grateful Dead as a teen, my indifference was quickly turned to loathing thanks to an especially awful boyfriend who found a way to work his travels with The Dead into nearly every conversation. Long after the boyfriend was gone, the opening twang of "Truckin'" still managed to call up a retching noise and a quick flip of the dial. But several years ago, when I finished the final episode of Freaks and Geeks I felt compelled to play American Beauty in its entirety and was reminded that the most annoying Dead-heads often overshadow the brilliance of the band itself. And so, just like I listen to the Almost Famous soundtrack the first stormy fall day each year, I've found American Beauty speaks perfectly to the end of school, for parents and teens alike. I take a long drive, turn it on, and am instantly transported back to those years of tedious days behind a desk, limping your way through end of year assignments when you would rather be nearly anywhere else, the sun staying longer each day, building anticipation to the coming summer when anything is possible and ambitious plans can be thwarted only by lack of money, an empty gas tank, summer school and parents who refuse to understand what summer is really about...doing nothing and everything all at once, with the day not fully culminating until 2-4 am. It's a feeling that never truly dies, it only goes dormant with the reality of jobs, schedules, mortgage payments and regular dental visits. "Box of Rain" and "Friend of the Devil" are ubiquitous and basically serve as the musical equivalent of the first glass of wine. The start of "Ripple" always forces a lump in my throat and makes me turn the volume up, not wanting to miss a single word:

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of men

There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night

And if you go no one may follow

That path is for your steps alone

Even Robert Hunter, who wrote the song, cites the lyrics to "Ripple" as his personal favorite and it serves as the perfect lead in to "Brokedown Palace." Those two songs remind us that as much as certain Dead songs have a strong Country influence, the message is very different; while a classic Country song bemoans the singer's state of affairs and warns of a hopeless future, the Dead advocate a rueful sort of optimism that encourages transcending whatever ails you and dancing instead, no matter how bleak the outlook and "Truckin'" becomes the grand finale and mantra for American Beauty.