Daily Updates

From: rika1@mindspring.com (Rika)
Subject: PC: Update, Thursday, 11/27/97
Date: Sun, 30 Nov 1997 06:12:58 GMT
X-Server-Date: 30 Nov 1997 06:13:14 GMT

                       PORT CHARLES UPDATE
                     Thursday, Nov. 27, 1997

TODAY'S STORYLINES:
-------------------
* A Gathering of Strange Bedfellows
* A Thanksgiving Miracle, Sort Of

A GATHERING OF STRANGE BEDFELLOWS
---------------------------------
   Ah, what a tangled web we weave,
   When we sit down Thanksgiving Eve.

Before this day is over, Nicole Devlin will share a turkey dinner with
her estranged husband, her daughter, her daughter's boyfriend, and her
lover, who is living with her husband's former lover, and who not long
ago had romantic designs on her daughter.

Frank, Julie, Grace, and Matt are preparing to leave the hospital for
the Cast-of-Thousands Scanlon Thanksgiving Feast.  Julie is worried
about her parents behaving themselves.  As they prepare to leave, Ellen
Burgess intercepts Julie to tell her that she has to work the ER.  Jake,
who overhears, offers to cover for Julie.  He's not in a holiday mood
anyhow; he'd just like a piece of pie.

At the Scanlon home, Mike is helping with the gravy - by dumping brandy
into the gravy.  Mike figures the gravy needs some "zing"; Mary doesn't
want to "zing" the guests too much.  Mike thanks Mary for inviting him.
It's hard for him without Sonny, and he feels guilt and regret.  Mary
offers a platitudinous suggestion about moving on and doing one's best.

Karen and Joe arrive; Joe can't wait for his second turkey dinner in as
many days.  He warns Karen to watch out, because Mary gets "very Irish
during Thanksgiving."  (Oh, goody.  My updater's cup runneth over.  Now,
allow me to explain.  I have nothing against the Irish.  I'm part Irish
myself.  But Mary Scanlon tends to wear her Irishness like a badge - a
great big, hot pink, orange, and lime green badge that makes loud,
annoying sounds when you press on it.  I think she's plenty Irish enough
on an average day.  I am NOT looking forward to this.)

Karen, afraid that they might start having fun (which hardly seems
likely, given Joe's preceding announcement), provides the obligatory
once-every-five-minutes mention of the Tragedy of Danielle.  Mary, the
designated Font of Platitudes (poor Pat Crowley, having to say these
saccharine lines), remarks that death is part of life.  Joe shares some
bagpipe lore, and Mary suggests that they put some Celtic music on the
stereo.  (What next?  The Lucky Charms leprechaun, assuring everyone
that the gravy will be "magically delicious"?  Actually, that sounds
okay, now that I think about it.)  Joe suggests that it would be a great
night for a "Ceili".  Mary agrees; Karen asks what that is.  Mike, who
apparently knows, picks Karen up and tries to make a quick getaway.

Julie, Frank, Matt, and Grace arrive, followed soon after by Chris,
bearing two bottles of wine.  Nicole arrives soon after that.  Chris's
wine is served, and the gang offers sarcastic assessments ("It's woodsy
- Bambi would like this wine.")  Chris drops the fact that the wine got
three stars in Vino Veritas magazine.  Joe quips that he only drinks
four-star wines; Frank retorts that Joe drinks canned wine from a
six-pack.

Mary announces that the turkey is nearly ready to be carved.  Karen
suggests that Joe get out his power drill; the group laughs and teases
Joe.  Bennett Devlin arrives, generating some embarrassment for Julie,
Nicole, and Chris.  The gang sits down to eat, and Mike brings in the
turkey to great fanfare.  Mike jokes about the intoxicating power of the
gravy.

Mary explains a Scanlon family tradition.  Everybody at the table has to
say what they're thankful for.  Mary is thankful for her guests and her
two sons; Frank is thankful for Julie's presence; so is Julie.  Nicole
is thankful she didn't have to cook (I can relate); Bennett is thankful
to be "with my family."  (Just wait.)  Chris is thankful for a free
meal, and Matt is thankful that Mary makes cornbread stuffing like his
mom does.  Grace misses her mother, and reminisces about her mom's usual
Thanksgiving meal - Peking Duck.  We learn that Grace's mother is
Chinese.  Mike is also thinking of absent loved ones.  He's talking
about Sonny, but he also contributes the obligatory once-every-five-
minutes mention of the Tragedy of Danielle.  Karen offers a prayer for
Jake.  Joe offers an ancient Celtic prayer.  Frank is thankful the
toasts and prayers are over, because he's hungry.

Post-dinner, the gang assembles in the living room.  Joe assumes the
role of Master of Ceremonies, welcoming one and all to a "traditional
form of Irish torture known as a ceili."  (Joe is turning out to be the
one providing the Irish flavor instead of Mary, for which your updater
is deeply grateful.)  Frank, who knows what that means, tries to escape
to the kitchen to do dishes.  Mary explains - "It's a genteel, civil way
of passing the evening before there was radio and television."  Joe
explains further - it's basically an Amateur Talent Show right in one's
own living room.  TV, anybody?  (Wait a minute.  This is Thanksgiving
evening we're talking about.  Are we supposed to believe that, out of
this large a group, there are not several people who can FEEL the waves
of televised football games crashing into their bodies?  For example,
how about Frank Scanlon, former Notre Dame Football Hero?  Naaaaaah.)
Chris makes a worthwhile suggestion - perhaps he should take off his
shirt, tie a shoelace around his head, and do "Lord of the Dance."  (I
bet he'd be a riot, actually.)

Joe claims the right to pick the first entertainer (using the term
loosely).  Julie and Karen try to escape to the kitchen, but Joe
threatens to select them if they move.  He looks around the room for a
likely victim, but almost everyone is avidly studying the carpet.

When we return, Mary is singing a rather lengthy Irish ditty.  Next is
Frank, reciting an "anonymous poem in the Irish tradition."  It turns
out to be a limerick.  Mike offers to contribute a couple of limericks
of his own, but Mary stops him.  Joe tries to recruit Grace; however,
her two offered talents (giving pain-free shots and throwing up at the
thought of performing) win her a waiver.  Matt is next.  He tries to
escape ("Oh, bummer, dude, I left my pennywhistle at home"), but Joe
produces one.  Matt plays an air on the pennywhistle; Karen gets up and
sort of dances a jig as Matt plays (thankfully, she does not exhibit her
related talent for removing clothing while dancing).

Chris is picked next, and he does some impressions (Johnny Carson, Billy
Bob Thornton, and Sean Connery).  Chris picks Nicole to go next.  She
says she only knows one Irish song, and she asks Joe to accompany her on
the guitar.  (I'm not sure how she knew that he played, but never mind.)
Bennett offers to sing with her.  Nicole has a good voice; Bennett just
kind of croons softly in the background.  Before long it has turned into
a group sing-along.  Karen, who isn't singing, remarks, "It's so sad."
And then.... yes, you guessed it, she provides the obligatory once-
every-five-minutes mention of the Tragedy of Danielle.

(When I saw a minute or so of these scenes on Thursday while on a break
from the kitchen, I expected to be writing an extremely cynical update.
It looked like my schmaltz meter was going to be redlined.  While this
sort of stuff isn't my cup of tea (I much preferred Wednesday's episode)
I think the scenes were saved from being impossibly syrupy by the fact
that I truly felt I was watching a gathering of friends.  They seemed to
be having a lot of fun, with lots of laughing and joking and teasing
going on.  That was nice.)

A THANKSGIVING MIRACLE, SORT OF
-------------------------------
Back at the hospital, Ellen and Jake are on duty in the ER.  Ellen asks
if Jake is sure that working is a good idea.  Work keeps his mind
occupied, he explains.  Ellen tells him to come find her if he needs
her.

Left to his own devices, work doesn't keep his mind sufficiently
occupied after all, because we are treated to a sixty-second rerun of
Jake/Danielle scenes from last Friday, before her surgery.  I suppose
that constitutes the obligatory once-every-five-minutes mention of the
Tragedy of Danielle.  His reverie is interrupted by the arrival of
paramedics bringing in Mrs. Ramirez, who is in labor.  She tells Jake,
"I can't lose another baby."

Jake examines Mrs. Ramirez, and learns that the OB ward is full -
"they're delivering in the halls."  Okay, says Jake, so the ER is now a
delivery room.  Mrs. Ramirez is worried about the baby being premature,
but Jake tries to reassure her.  "You're in your eighth month.  If the
baby wants out, there's got to be a reason."  (Is it just me, or is that
not at ALL reassuring?  Oh, well, it's nice of him to try.)

When we return to Jake and Mrs. Ramirez, Jake is handing her a baby boy
wrapped in a blanket.  The baby looks pretty large for one who is 5-8
weeks premature.  Mrs. Ramirez looks lovingly at her son and thanks
Jake:  "This is the best Thanksgiving I ever had."  Ellen, who has been
looking on, tells Jake, "You did good."  Jake responds, "It's about
time."  Ellen asks what he means, but he says, "Never mind," and heads
off to the pay phones.  He calls his mother, tells her he loves her, and
assures her that "I'm fine."  As he hangs up the phone, several of the
Scanlon-feast revelers arrive laden with plates of leftovers.  Ellen
suggests that they take it all to the OCR and "chow down," and the happy
group heads off down the hall.

-----------------------
by Rika, Thursday updater