Good. A mind that can change
is a healthy mind.
In fact, intelligence is actually determined
by the ability to adapt to new stimuli.
I've decided to go through with it.
You don't mean-
Holling, we talked about this.
You made an informed,
intelligent decision.
- What could have possibly
changed your mind?
- Hi, Dr. Fleischman.
Can you believe the Big H.?
How many guys
would get their Johnny peeled...
just to show his babe
how much he cared?
- Not many.
- When do we get to look at the pictures?
- What pictures?
- You know, for me and Holling,
to make an informed choice.
When my friend Pam got her nose
busted, the doctor showed her
pictures of all the different styles.
Long and straight,
short and turned up.
Shelly, circumcision
is not like rhinoplasty.
Oh.
Whatever then.
I'm gonna talk to the agency.
You guys are respected.
You understand the importance
of good engineering.
Yeager wasn't even an astronaut,
but he's on TV selling spark plugs.
I've got nothing against shilling
for Detroit, Frank,
but you gotta give me
something worth selling.
As far as I'm concerned, there hasn't
been a decently designed automobile
since the Toronado.
- Hey, O'Connell!
I have to ask you a question.
- Maurice, come on.
Dad, come on.
Why don't we go to my place?
G.M., Chrysler-
We all got good-looking cars.
What about the Thunderbird?
Come on, Frank.
The Thunderbird's nothin'
but a Beemer with a Yank decal.
O'Connell, hey! Hey!
Whoa! Watch it!
Come on, Dad.
What's the rush?
- O'Connell!
- Hey, someone's calling you.
No, I don't think so.
That's Fleischman.
Frank, it's nice meetin' you.
I just have to ask you a question!
Keep in touch.
- Fleischman?
- Are you deaf? You fly in a guy-
six feet, chews Juicy Fruit, good boots?
Darling!
O'Connell.
You're back!
Why didn't you
tell me you were back?
Back?
Well, what kind of boyfriend are you?
You wouldn't think we had a close,
caring relationship,
that we'd been intimately involved
for the past six months.
Huh?
What kind of impression
does that make on my dad?
My dad, who's come all this way
to meet you, my boyfriend, the doctor,
who I've written so many
wonderful letters about.
Huh?
Nice to meet you, Joel.
Hi.
I know you have to get back to the office,
sweetheart, but hopefully we'll
have a chance to get together.
If not, I'm sure Dad will understand
how busy you are.
Margaret, you're not fooling me.
What?
I see what's going on here.
You do?
You're trying to keep me away from Joel.
She's afraid I'm gonna scare you off.
Huh.
Don't worry, Peanut.
I'm gonna be on my best behavior.
Peanut?
Come on.
Let me buy you a drink.
You've been listening to the adagio
from Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.
I think Ludwig pretty much
summed up death in this one.
You know, he'd just about lost
all his hearing when he wrote it,
and I've often wondered if that didn't
help him to tune into the final silence...
of the great beyond.
Apropos of all that, before I forget,
I've got a couple of scheduling changes...
for those that are looking after
the body of the unknown person.
Doreen Mayfair is nursing a sick malamute
and can't make her 7:00 p.m. shift.
Hey, Ruth-Anne, you wanted me
to let you know that you're up at 6:00.
On a happier note, congratulations
and l'chaim to Holling Vincoeur.
He's getting circumcised the day after
tomorrow by our own Dr. Fleischman.
Anybody who's not familiar
with the practice,
circumcision is the surgical removal
of the foreskin of the penis.
Ouch.
Anyway, Holling, if you're listening,
I don't know if you have plans...
for the disposal of that foreskin,
but you might wanna consider...
the Hasidic custom of burying it
under a fruit tree.
You know, a little nod
to life's cyclic nature.
Anyway, brother,
I'm gonna spin this one for you.
Ouch.
You know, Joel,
Margaret used to be so finicky.
She wouldn't step foot in a place
that didn't have linen on the table.
-