(originally aired May 19, 1996)
Immediately following our star-studded rocktacular finale is a more low-key companion episode, and as most meditative episodes are, it’s about Lisa. We start with the ending of another school year, where Lisa makes the shocking discovery that being hall monitor and head of the yearbook committee hasn’t done much to make her popular, finding she hasn’t a friend in the world. A brief sidebar, I always wonder about the character of Janey in these situations. She’s occassionally shown as Lisa’s friend, but other times appears disinterested in her. My opinion, she’s a fickle bitch in sheep’s clothing. Same with all the other girls at her slumber party in “Flaming Moe’s,” or any other time we see girls with Lisa. None of them really “get” Lisa, thus her loneliness. This somber realization sets in right as the Simpson family are heading off to Ned Flanders’s beach house for the summer. Deciding a different approach is needed to solve her dilemma, Lisa concludes she must create a new identity for herself, leaving town with an empty suitcase.

The family (plus Milhouse) arrives at sunny Little Pwagmattasquarmesettport, another Simpsons name that’s absolutely brilliant for reasons I can’t accurately explain. Lisa’s first step is to get a new outfit: a tie dye number with backwards cap and tinted sunglasses. I love how it’s basically a getup from the eyes of someone approximating what a cool kid would wear, it almost works. She runs across some kids under the pier, laid back beach townies who aren’t the sharpest, but are overall nice people. A lot of the episode’s charm comes from Lisa’s nervousness in not just keeping up the charade of her alternate persona (“Like, y’know, whatever…”), but also just being in social situations. Particularly great is her first encounter, where she’s gathered up the will to walk over to the kids, then is spooked by a wayward seagull. She is eventually welcomed into the group, and builds a particular bond with the sole girl, Erin, performed with a genuine relaxed nature by Christina Ricci.

There’s a few other things going on around the Lisa story to generate more laughs. Homer embarks on a mission to procure some illegal fireworks, which of course results in an amusing catastrophe. Even more fantastic is Milhouse, who seems to only be there out of obligation that Marge told Bart that he should bring someone. He ends up becoming the ultimate third wheel; his presence is not really desired by anyone, he’s just tolerated for being there. Meanwhile, Bart is discouraged that Lisa’s friends aren’t as easily swayed by his antics as the kids back in Springfield. As petty vengeance, she uses the school yearbook to expose Lisa’s nerdy self to the townies, devastating her. The Milhouse stuff works particularly well in the third act when Bart and Lisa are at vindictive odds toward each other, and Milhouse, completely out of the loop, is stuck in the middle, taking the brunt of their childish attacks. All is well in the end as the kids accept Lisa for the person she is, in the form of desecrating Homer’s car with sea shells, so Lisa can have a piece of the beach with her on her return home. It’s a very satisfying end to a swell show.

Tidbits and Quotes
– Great acting, vocally and animation, on Milhouse imitating the different types of sprinklers.
– Nice sign outside the Yearbook Office (“Immortalizing Your Awkward Phase,”) and wonderful bit when Lisa uses a box cutter to retrieve the new books, unknowingly holding up one with a humungous tear right on the cover. Noticing it, she tosses it aside and holds up a fresh one. The name “Retrospecticus” is also brilliant; I’m sure Lisa spent a while coming up with an intellectual name that no one will pay any mind to.
– Great comeback to Nelson’s classic “Who died and made you boss?” to which Lisa responds, “Mr. Estes, the publications adviser.” No one comments any further on this as Nelson takes charge and just passes out all the books to the crowd. Those books looked pretty expensive. Not only am I surprised the school could afford them, but I’m sure they wouldn’t want them to be handled by eight-year-olds and end up given away.
– Nice freeze frame moment of Lisa’s superlatives, including record holder for most hand raises in a semester (763), and tidiest locker (unopposed).
– Wonderful scene of Flanders talking to Homer over the fence about his “rhubarb of a pickle of a jam.” It’s a double whammy of jokes, as the uninterested pose of Homer with his one arm on the fence is hilarious, as is Flanders recounting he’s been called for jury duty and the basics of the case, all of which flows so realistically like he’s actually recalling the information. Homer gives him the hand motion to get to the point and Ned asks if he wants to use his beach house. Homer agrees, only if he can also look at his septic tank.
– Fantastic bit when Lisa muses about her loneliness, gesturing to her books (“These are my only friends. Grownup nerds like Gore Vidal, and even he’s kissed more boys than I ever will.”) Marge, none the wiser, responds, “Girls, Lisa. Boys kiss girls.”
– I love the silliness that Lisa packed a microscope to bring to the beach. And great callback at the end when in the yearbook, one of the kids wrote to bring her microscope next time.
– I like all the post-it notes around the beach house. Even Marge is annoyed by the overkill; she finds an empty ice tray in the freezer, each slot with a note, “Fill Me.” She incredulously asks, “With what, Ned?” She flips the note over to reveal another continuing, “With Water.” Also great is Homer taking the “Put Food In Me” off the fridge and onto his gut.
– Great timing of Homer and his “improvised swimsuit,” wearing a welcome mat over his crotch. He walks outside, says hello to a person, then we see the reflection of red and blue sirens. I suppose he said hello to a cop right outside the door.
– Hilarious bit of Homer gleefully driving the car in low tide.
– I love the family playing Mystery Date, it seems appropriate the Flanders family would have a lame board game lying around for fun. Especially great is Homer’s slow giddy realization that the dud looks strikingly similar to Milhouse (“Hey! He looks just like you, Poindexter!”)
– Homer’s casual read to the Apu substitute at the convenience store is such a great performance (“Let me have some of those porno magazines… large box of condoms… a couple of those panty shields, and-some-illegal-fireworks, and one of those disposable enemas. Ehhh… make it two.”) Not suspicious at all. Also great is Marge’s bewilderment unpacking the items (“I don’t know what you have planned tonight, but count me out.”) The clerk also has a gem of a line, presenting Homer with the M-320 (“Celebrate the independence of your nation by blowing up a small part of it.”)
– Nice bit when Lisa and the kids are hanging out at the house. Erin mentions that her mother would be intrusive in offering Rice Krispie squares and Tang. Marge, coming in with a tray of just that, hears this and does a quick 180 back in the kitchen.
– Homer’s firework fiasco is a pretty spectacular sequence, culminating in the dishwasher erupting in a sea of black gunk. And great followup as we see Marge in the background mopping it all up in the next scene. There’s a lot of pitiful Marge stuff in this episode, from her talking about how she always dreamed her daughter would be her best friend, and the start of the third act as a smiling, but internally devastated Marge looks at the sunrise through the window whilst blindly scrubbing at all the destroyed dishes in the sink.
– I like how Lisa is utilizing all of Bart’s old catchphrases, as if she figured they would work for her audience. Bart is indignant of protecting his expressions, but Marge is less receptive (“Oh, you haven’t said that in four years. Let Lisa have it.”)
– One of the yearbook photos features Lisa at a grammar rodeo, a great callback to “Bart on the Road.”
– Wonderful acting moment as Lisa snaps at Bart at the breakfast table, then snaps back when Marge re-enters the room. And great reveal with the cereal box to see that Milhouse was at the table the whole time. That leads great to the carnival scene where he is caught in the middle of their fight. I especially like the end when Lisa’s bumper car goes out of the ring and lightly taps a tree… dropping a bird’s nest on her head.
– Great read by Homer, undercutting the sentimental climax: “Sweet merciful crap! My car!!” Leading right to the fallout, seeing the sea-adorned car is being harangued by seagulls. Bart is redeemed by having the kids sign Lisa’s yearbook, and Milhouse giddily points out his own signature, “See you in the car!” My friend signed that in my yearbook one year, right in the corner and everything.

Season 7 Final Thoughts
In terms of my favorite season so far, it was a tie between 3 and 5, with 3 championing in more emotional and grounded stories that examine our characters, and 5 succeeding in cramming as many ridiculous and crazy gags and laughs into each show as possible. Season 7 is the happy marriage between these two elements, with each episode managing to find new successful ways of having its cake and eating it too. The show excels in its ability to blend the truly emotional with the hilarious, and this season does it in spades. Like season 3, a lot of the shows feel very grounded and realistic in spending time with our characters combatting with life and each other. When the kids are taken into protective services, or Homer’s mother must leave him again, these moments are played very straight, but peppered with jokes that don’t distract, but sweeten things. And even at its silliness, like “Two Bad Neighbors,” the show still feels real to me, and that’s the highest compliment you can really give any fiction. We still have one more classic season left, but I’m pretty confident season 7 has a lock for favorite season. It’s stupendous.

The Best
“Bart Sells His Soul,” “Sideshow Bob’s Last Gleaming,” “A Fish Called Selma,” “Twenty-Two Short Films About Springfield,” “The Curse of the Flying Hellfish”

The Worst
No worst. Best season is perfect season.

(originally aired May 19, 1996)
Serving as the “official” finale for the season, I’m sure this episode was highly advertised for its high-caliber guest stars, including Cypress Hill, Peter Frampton and the Smashing Pumpkins. Gimmicky? Back in these days, major guest appearances mostly served as set dressing for a larger story, in this case, Homer’s attempts to relive his carefree youth amongst a new generation. Previous episodes have shed some light on Homer’s arrested development, on how knocking up Marge forced him to make the leap from boy to man much quicker than he’d hoped. As such, he still considers himself a fun-loving party animal, even if he doesn’t party anymore, and also his idea of partying consisted of singing Bee Gees with Barney at his father’s house. He’s shocked to discover not only does he have no idea or interest in new alternative rock, but his kids think that he’s lame. To counter this, he gets them tickets to the hip music concert Hullabalooza.

For Homer, Hullabalooza is a strange new world, full of heavily disaffected teens who don’t want some old man cramping their nonconformist style. But fortunately for him, he finds a different avenue to make the scene, thanks to his seemingly iron clad stomach. A malfunctioning cannon shoots a compacted inflatable into his gut, and the crowd is shocked to find it didn’t affect him at all. With that, Homer is welcomed into the freak show, traveling town after town getting a cannonball right in the stomach. It’s an interesting way to get Homer to fit in, not really giving him a specific talent but highlighting his very high tolerance for pain, which we’ve seen plenty before, and we’ll see plenty onward. It isn’t long before all the stunts start taking his toll. Tests show that his stomach is near demolished, and one more cannonball could kill him. Of course his next stunt is on home turf in Springfield, and seeing his family in the crowd, he dodges the shot at the last second, knowing that they’re too important to him to take the risk.

Digs at the then-current music scene act as lovely set dressing, between the highly commercialized music festival to the hilarious animation of the diehard fans slowly swaying to the beat, looking absolutely uninterested, because that’s how the cool kids act. When he has the will, Homer is a man full of energy, but these are just not his people. The scene where he dares to address one of them and the crowd turns on him in rapid succession is so well timed, with accusations piling on and the tension building up until they throw him out. The guest stars all have their moments, some better than others. Particularly great is Peter Frampton, who always seems to be irate about something, and Cypress Hill, who have a great scene whispering to each other wondering if they ordered a classical orchestra whilst under the influence. There’s also some neat direction in showing Homer’s stunts, coming up with different ways to show Homer getting shot at over and over again. In the end, no lesson has really been learned on what it means to be cool, as when you’re an adult, there’s just no pleasing the younger generation. That’s just the way it is.

Tidbits and Quotes
– A fantastic opening sequence where a daydreaming Otto drives the bus into the junkyard, right into a car crusher. He and the kids must quickly get out the back before the bus is completely demolished and spit out in a greatly condensed version of itself. Smash cut to Marge reading a letter at home (“Dear parents. Due to yesterday’s unscheduled field trip to the auto wrecking yard, the school bus will be out of commission for two weeks. By reading this letter out loud, you have waived any legal responsability on our part in perpetuity throughout the universe.”)
– I love Grand Funk Railroad, so I’m on Homer’s side with this one. I love his rock music history lessons (“Grand Funk Railroad paved the way for Jefferson Airplane, which cleared the way for Jefferson Starship. The stage was now set for the Alan Parsons project, which I believe was some sort of hovercraft.”)
– The music store is one of the best store names of the show’s history: Suicide Notes (formerly Good Vibrations). Not only are they great puns, but they exemplify the difference in tone in generations of music, clearly and succinctly. So brilliant.
– The music store clerk is befuddled at Homer’s mention of Apple computers, which at the time was not really a widely recognized name… yet.
– Great flashback of Homer looking on at some cool kids in their tricked out van, dubbed the second-base mobile. Why not third, why shoot so low? The following sequence is so fantastic with the strobe effect of Homer getting closer and closer to the van, in the same standing position, and then clearly realizing he’s not wanted, and cut to him back far away again.
– The best line of the show goes to Grampa, responding to teenage Homer’s claims that he’s not “with it” (“I used to be with it, but then they changed what ‘it’ was. Now, what I’m with isn’t ‘it’, and what’s ‘it’ seems weird and scary to me.”)
– Nice quick and telling line from Marge when Homer complains about how weird the record store seemed to him (“Record stores have always seemed crazy to me, but it doesn’t upset me. Music is none of my business.”)
– I don’t know how good it is for business to hold a big music festival on a weekday, but I suppose its clientele appear to be teenagers skipping school, dropouts and the unemployed. And we tie up the driving to school story with a great fake-out, deliciously milked by Homer (“I must be getting forgetful in my old age. Open the glove compartment and fetch me my brain medicine.”)
– Nice homage to R. Crumb as Homer struts his stuff, trying to connect with the young peoples.
– I like how we gloss over the big plot point of Homer leaving his family for an extended period to go on tour in a freak show with one scene: Marge is dissatisfied, telling Homer he doesn’t have to do something just because the opportunity presented itself. Homer responds politely, “You know, Marge, in some ways, you and I are very different people.”
– I love how meek Homer is addressing the crowd at his first performance. Latter day Homer would be bombastic and loud, but here he has a bit more humility. He builds up his courage in ensuing performances, as he grows more and more comfortable with himself, like a real person would.
– Nice bit where Homer signs a cannonball for a kid, gives it back to him, and the weight immediately pulls him down to the ground
– Nice exchange between Homer and Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins (“My kids think you’re the greatest. And thanks to your gloomy music, they’ve finally stopped dreaming of a future I can’t possibly provide.” “Well, we try to make a difference.”)
– Cypress Hill takes a cue from Nelson, taunting “Haw-haw!” at Bart when Marge briefly recounts when he ripped his pants at the Christmas play.
– I would like to hear the full version of “Insane in the Membrane” with orchestral accompaniment. I love the serious expression of the one violinist too.

(originally aired April 28, 1996)
Grampa is one of the show’s more interesting characters. His senile outbursts are his main gimmick, which, like with much of the cast, would usurp his entire character in later years, but his life story is very rich, with fascinating tidbits that may or may not be completely true. He’s a man very much the product of his era: an agile young man sent off to war, who then came back home to settle down with a family. We’ve seen a younger Abe before, full of vigor in his constant berating and denigrating of his only son. Here we see him at full physical form, leading a rough-tough battalion in the Ardennes during the war. We gain a newfound respect for him, as does Bart, who at first is embarrassed by his grandfather’s constant outbursts, but then starts to believe his war stories aren’t complete nonsense. This is a pretty crazy ambitious episode, and some of the stuff is maybe too fantastical for the normally grounded series, but it’s incredibly entertaining and one of my favorites.

We start by re-establishing that everyone thinks Grampa is a delusional old coot, especially Bart. But he soon learns of his grandfather’s wartime past, of how he entered a pact with his fellow soldiers in the Hellfish battalion regarding a treasure trove of paintings stolen by the Nazis. The last surviving member will gain access to these priceless items, and the only two left are Abe and Mr. Burns. Burns, being the greedy old miser that he is, wants to speed up the process, hiring an assassin to try to kill Abe. The attempted murders are pretty damn absurd, but they kind of keep the episode balanced from getting too dark. The flashbacks during Grampa’s story are fantastic. We get to see Abe at his most active and courageous, and that even back then, Burns was just as selfish and with as great a sense of entitlement as ever. We also see that familiar ancestors like Wiggum and Barney’s fathers were part of the platoon, which is a bit silly, but it makes sense given that Springfield is the typical American town that most townsfolk would have enlisted. We’ve seen Abe’s wartime experiences in a few flashbacks, mostly as gags (him posing as a cabaret singer comes to mind), but it’s great to see it here played in a serious light. A particularly nice moment is the air of respect he gives when he addresses the gravestones of his men, which feels so genuine, even if it is capped off with a joke (“I want you to know that when I die, you’re all welcome to visit me in rich men’s heaven.”)

Bart manages to swipe Burns’s Hellfish key, and together with Grampa’s, trigger the Hellfish grave marker to shine a light on the location of the treasure… out at sea. They manage to retrieve the sunken crate, but are ambushed by Burns, who buys time escaping by kicking Bart into the empty crate to sink to a watery grave. Now, this is hands down the most evil, unforgivable thing Burns has ever done, and it would seem to be going too far, but for some reason it doesn’t feel that way. You’re wrapped up in the story, and we get to see Grampa be heroic in saving his grandson, and then regaining his past physical feisty nature in getting onto Burns’s boat and taking him down. It’s a proud moment for him, and we’re glad to see it. The resolution is pitch perfect, with the U.S. government arriving to retrieve the paintings, and to avoid unwanted tension overseas, they return the items to their closest living inheritor: some snooty Eurotrash douchebag (hilariously performed by Hank Azaria). It’s a real adventurous episode overall. Later seasons would be known for having big action sequences and ramping up some crazier elements, which are present in this episode, but the difference is this one earned its finale. The plot is very interesting and works with our characters, and we even get a nice bonding moment between Bart and Grampa at the very end, which is then wonderfully undercut by the best line in the show: “Hey, fun boys! Get a room!”

Tidbits and Quotes
– We get a look at some of the other kids’s grandparents: Grandpa Van Houten has an RV and a new wife, and Grandpa Muntz, a judge, is proud to announce he’s just sentenced his forty-seventh man to death, a factoid Nelson is quite proud of.
– I love everything about Grampa addressing Bart’s class. Where the other men just stood in front of the blackboard, Abe makes himself comfortable, demanding attention as he takes a load off, putting his legs up on the desk as he tells his rambling story (“My story begins in nineteen-dickety-two. We had to say “dickety” ’cause that Kaiser had stolen our word “twenty”. I chased that rascal to get it back, but gave up after dickety-six miles…”) Martin scoffs, “‘Dickety’? Highly dubious!” Abe quickly retorts (“What’re you cackling at, fatty? Too much pie, that’s your problem!”)
– Abe’s mail gives us some good gags (“Consider burial… at Sea World!”) He’s none too thrilled (“This junk was hardly worth getting up for. Maybe if I go back to sleep for a few days, some good mail will build up.”)
– I love the atmosphere at the funeral in the rain. The music is very foreboding as Burns and Abe, the only two in attendance, give each other knowing stares while holding their respective keys. Reverend Lovejoy gives a lifeless eulogy of Asa Phelps’s life in the background, which is pretty funny if you actually listen to it (“Asa Phelps spent his entire life in Springfield, except for four years of service in World War II and one high school day-trip. He worked at the United Strut and Bracing Works as a molder’s boy, until he was replaced by a Molder-Matic, and died.”)
– The Hellfish symbol and the grave marker are fabulous designs. They really give the episode a historical, mysterious feel to it.
– Nice swipe at Marion Barry as Burns calls the assassin, identifying himself as M.B., to which the assassin asks “Barry” if it’s time for another shipment. Barry was mayor of the District of Columbia, infamous for falling victim to a sting operation in 1990 where he did coke. And then afterwards was re-elected. Funny world we live in.
– I like how the assassin’s plans just get worse and worse, from the Simpson family disguises (I love Smithers’s Bart disguise. Like, why would they think this would work? “I’ll be in the car, dudes”) and then later of him just going for broke and shooting up the retirement home. Unfortunately for him, the nurses are packing heat themselves (“Our residents [shot] are trying [shot] to nap!! [shot]”)
– A small moment I love when Grampa is on the Simpson couch recalling the assassination attempts. Thinking her grandfather is out of it, Lisa suggests she moisten the washcloth on his forehead. Grampa shoots up, irate (“It’s plenty moist!”) I love that line.
– I love the explanation of why Burns was just a private. Abe explains that he was busted for obstructing a probe from J. Edgar Hoover, and they got stuck with him in the battalion.
– A very exciting moment when Abe saves Burns from a grenade blast quickly gets turned into a wild dirty joke (“They took a photo of my keister for Stars and Stripes! …at least they told me it was for Stars and Stripes.”) So, yeah, some dirty men’s erotic magazine used a photo of Abe’s ass. Or something to that effect.
– Ox, the stereotypical dim tough guy, is great for when we see him, the only man who can explain what a tontine is in unusually eloquent terms. Abe also explains he was the first to die, getting a hernia carrying the crate of paintings out of the castle.
– I like Bart’s urgings to go with Burns to get the treasure (“I won’t eat much and I don’t know the difference between right and wrong!”) and Burns’s response (“Oh, you’re a good boy, but the child labor people have been watching me like a hawk.”) This was all an elaborate ruse of course so Bart could get the keys.
– Nice back-and-forth to start the final act as Bart and Grampa walk through the cemetery (“Hey, Grampa, do you think that dead bodies get up and walk around at night?” “If they’re anything like me, they have to get up twice.”)
– Bart needs to dive down into the water to retrieve the crate. Grampa sets up a signal system: tug the rope sixty-three times if he’s out of air, and sixty-four if he’s found the treasure. Why so many times? So dumb, but so great. Dan Castellaneta gives a great performance when the rope tugs sixty-three times and Abe bemoans his grandson’s death, but when the rope tugs one more time, he becomes joyful without skipping a beat.
– As over-the-top as it is, I do love the climax. It’s a real exciting and satisfying conclusion with these two old men returning to their past selves: heroic Abe and underhanded Burns.