A moment of praise for JetBlue, since on any other airline on a Tuesday night I’d have had The King Of Queens or some shitty McConaughey movie (pick one) foisted upon me.  JetBlue gives me my own TV and allows me to make my own choices, and so naturally I chose to watch Rescue Me.


That’s just a preferable way to fly.  This week’s was yet another good episode, though I think the biggest story bits are being spread over a longer-than usual season and we’re all still just biding time until Michael J. Fox returns next week.


I think the highlight must have been one of the freakier saves in show history.  Normally the firefighter scenes, aside from the crucial 2001 flashbacks, are incidental interludes meant to provide comedy and to remind us that these guys don’t actually sit around the firehouse bullshitting all day.  Every season or so however, a truly harrowing save scene occurs, and this episode provided one, where Lou hops into a pickup about to be sucked into a water pit in the pavement in order to save an unconscious driver, and his added weight almost sends them both into a fatal mud puddle. 


[SPOILER]  He gets out just in time, and of course the capper on the scene is a fat joke.  But it’s a stern reminder that, unlike The King Of Queens, no one on this show is safe.


Some other stuff I liked was the concept of Lou and Tommy as revolving roommates (now Tom is crashing with Lou, whereas last time it was vice versa), Franco’s alternate suggestion for the bar’s name (“bombed-out shithole”), and Tommy’s combative exchanges with the lady psychic (she’s kinda hot!).


One thing I’m unsure about is Lou’s new look, meant to impress French lady.  Without the ‘stache, my man kind of looks like a sea turtle on land, way outside of his natural element.


And now, the quotes:



On his incompatibility with Lou as roommates:



You can’t have two Walter Matthaus and no Jack Lemmons!





On acupuncture:



I’ve done it. Only they stuck all the needles in my eyeballs and instead of acupuncture they called it marriage.





Upon meeting the liquor license inspector –slash- blackmailer:



Look at that – another authority on liquor in New York State.  Brother!





In regards to Garrity’s admission that masturbation is happening less frequently:



Maybe you just don’t find yourself attractive anymore.





A tossed-off mumble to the psychic:



Lot of dead people in my life…