I was scared last week when both Luann and Sonja Tremont Morgan were behind the wheel of a borrowed pick-up truck. 1-877-cars-4-kids Morgan won’t put directions on Waze for her. It was a woman who hit a bush and she wasn’t driving. What do you think will happen when she tries to put on her readers, unlock the phone, and thumb directions into the VASA while driving to a strange city and turning the steering wheel with her knees?
This week is even worse. As the two drive across town from the newly renovated Motel Benton for Christmas in July, Luann puts on her makeup while trying to drive a working motor vehicle. She’s wearing a blusher, as my grandmother would say, without one hand on the wheel. Even worse, her entire makeup bag looks like it exploded on her lap. As if Sephora was riding in the back seat and learning about the safety precautions in the crapmobile, it barfs an entire makeup scene in Luann’s pantsuit. I know there are PSAs about driving and texting, but where are the ad campaigns to combat automotive cosmetic murder?
Yes, the motel is renovated and beautiful. Not only do Lu and Sonjarita buy a hot tub from home (Sonja keeps her bone away from the bone), but they hire someone to paint a beautiful mural of a hunting scene, where a herd stands in the shade. A wooded glen. In the middle of the mural is an avenue of oak, birch and pine trees that goes until the sun goes down. If your appetite is a little too strong, it’s a place where you can get lost for an hour.
The ladies rooms are not that much improved. Luann slapped some pink curtains and matching duvets in her room along with her new rug, and she thinks these are luxurious additions. Sonja says her room now has a walk-in closet because she can fit her entire body into the closet. The same cannot be said for her base. You can’t get a whole man in there with years of accumulated Wesson oil. Anyway, the best feature of the two rooms is the giant rooster painting that Sonja has on her wall. No, not that kind of cock. But I imagined a story behind the painting, that Billy Richard painted it for Sonja and sent it to her at the motel, and she’s been proudly displaying it ever since. „Billy sent me a picture of his cock!” She would have yelled at Luan while revealing her gift, in the scenario I called up in my mind. (Catholic Jesus, I really need to stop watching reality TV.)
The big event in this episode is the Christmas in July party, which the mayor tells the girls to throw on the town. Sonja and Lu’s production town includes fake Christmas trees, giant lighting displays, a fake snow maker, and even the biggest dance club in Ibiza, with a foam maker saying, „Girl, this is so foamy!” I swear, this whole show is just a boondoggle for NBCUniversal to spend its money on a poor, downtrodden town. Who knew this country’s biggest wealth distribution machine was reality television?
Borrowed from PA’s Halloween wardrobe, the girls don their glamorous Lady Santa costumes, and Luann gives us a quote for the ages: “What’s the difference between glamorous and slutty? Not much!” And then Sonja does a freestyle rap in front of the mirror, like nobody knows who’s who. I’d make that my ringtone if this were 2004 and I still had a Swarovski encrusted sidekick.
When Sonja and Lou finally arrive at the event, Parks and Rec guy Craig, the real hero of this whole series, says, “When they went up, I thought, God, they look like hooks.” It wasn’t the first time Craig had said that, or Lu and Sonja had heard it. But at least Sonja decided to wear her knickers because at least there would be kids. I mean, it didn’t stop Sonja from flashing her thong every time she bent over. Out of the 197 Billion Reasons I Love Sonja One, because to her, wearing a towel under a little dress is considered sleazy, but, yeah, Mrs. Claus’s chimney-sweeping is going to scar a bunch of Bentonian kids.
The episode was not without some drama. Our dynamic duo must perform their song about Benton for their upcoming follies, and somehow try not to sound like Dorothy and Rose singing.Miami, Miami, you’ve got style.” Luann wants the couple to rehearse the song so they don’t embarrass themselves in front of the 60 people who have bought tickets so far, but Sonja keeps changing the lyrics, so she has a hard time doing that.
I think it’s a situation where they’re both right and they’re both wrong. Sonja wanted to change the song to put the names of everyone who helped them along the way on the ditty. I think it’s admirable that, as she said, it makes the song less about them and more about the town they came to help. However, Sonja continues, “We’ll fix this. Let’s edit it. It’s going to be great.” No, Sonja Songe, now is the time. („Blue skies, sunshine, miiiiiiiiiiile white sand.” Sorry, it’s stuck in my head.)
This is where Luann is right. They have to rehearse so Sonja gets the song right and pronto. But I’m glad she fixed it. It reminds me of something I always tell my ghostwriting clients: “You can care about how good it is and work, or you can care about how good it is and not work. You can’t worry about how good it looks and doesn’t work. I think this is the case of two caregivers who only want to work out in a Pilates class and order around their trainers.
They’re a little embarrassed that they’ve only sold 60 tickets so far, so they come up with a silly plan to sell tickets: Paula Abdul, the only mortal woman who marries a dancing cat cartoon. Sonja and Lu bring in a pop idol and talented choreographer to work with one of the troupes performing at the Follies. The girls try to look impressed, but their mom’s womb doesn’t have the slightest twinkle in their time at rest. American idol, so they don’t know why she came to order them. I’m just as confused as these girls how this is going to sell tickets. At least the production was enough to get Paula a car and driver. Did you know there are women around these parts with their eyelids behind the wheel?!