It seems there is nothing so fickle as a Genoa Citian heart. Not for any of these hot-blooded inhabitants a moment or two in time to heal the wounds from one disastrous affair of devotion before hitting the sofa to begin the next. These days in this town, one cross word from one to the other can be good enough grounds to stray. These people change their bed partners more often than they change their sheets. Oh, did I say sheets? My mistake. Because Genoa Citians invariably consummate their passion on sofa pillows, not sheets. Whomever has a monopoly on the stain guard industry in Genoa City has to be making money hand over fist. And if its true what they say about how being intimate with one is like being intimate with all who have visited that particular plot of land before you, well, the mere thought of it is almost too convoluted to contemplate, and makes me feel the need for a long, scalding shower. But I digress.
Brad and Victoria are the latest separating pair to not want to let so much as a blade of grass grow beneath their feet. Brad, no longer humming that torn between two lovers tune under his breath, has apparently picked lust over Newman power. I say lust, because with a cad like Brad, despite his pretty phrases of caring and forever after affection, the only one he truly loves is the man he meets every morning in the mirror. And if there was an award given for such things, I'd have to present Brad with the plaque for the man who moves the fastest when his alleged love has died. I thought he dumped Ashley on her can can with a speed that made both her and my head spin 360 degrees. After running after her for years, with full and complete knowledge that her yearning heart belonged to Victor, when he learned she had thrown herself at the grim faced man's head once again and been roundly rejected, his so called love shriveled up and blew away like a tumbleweed in the hot desert wind. But that was nothing compared to the rapidity with which he suggested Victoria pick up the pace lest the doorknob dent her derriere when he slammed the door behind her. And she could forget about carefully packing away her expensive designer duds, which was probably all she brought to the fully furnished house. So anxious to see the back of her, he chose to hire some underling to cram them in a couple of crates and ship them to her than have to wait impatiently for her to dawdle through the chore herself. I couldn't help but wonder if he was planning to ship them to the office given that she has no home to call her own. Then, to add insult to the injuries he'd already dealt her, she probably hadn't even finished trudging to the car before he was calling up Sharon trying to get her to do the same thing to her marriage that he had just done to his.
Of course, I hardly had time to feel sorry for Victoria, had I been so inclined, which as you'll soon see when you read further, I wasn't, because it's not as if she hasn't been flinging J.T. Hellstrom in Brad's face just about every chance she got. Now, I consider myself a liberal-thinking woman, able to buy into the premise that men and woman can be friends with members of the opposite sex, but come on, there's been much more than friendship between Victoria and the boy about 12 years her junior for a long time. So she may as well dismount from that high horse of indignation she clambers aboard every day because she might be fooling Brad (for now), but I'm not buying her tall tale of innocence. There's more than a touch of the strumpet in our Miss Victoria.
Then there is the fickle heart of Nikki. All of a sudden she's so disenchanted with Victor, she's being tempted by the likes of David Chow!! I looked up sleazy and untrustworthy in my Webster's. And there David Chow stood smirking. With his messy hair, nondescript suits, know it all accusations that are far off the mark and that ingratiating manner he turns on when he deems a situation calls for it, I disliked him the second he stepped foot on Genoa City soil. My opinion of him has not improved and the more I learn about him, the more despicable he seems. First we find out he was a married executive supposedly horns over hooves for Carmen when he was hunting down Dru like she was a fox and he a hound. Next, he slyly insinuated himself into Newman working both Victor and Jack simultaneously and that forced looking lip lock seems to mean he has now set his sights on Nikki. It appears that rather than having affairs with women he shouldn't is an exception, it just might be one of his regular rules. .
Okay, fans, before I get started on the sleaze part of my rant, let me first say that I understand it's a soap. Although the word soap brings to mind an image of sweet-smelling cleanliness, what soap worth its steam is without a healthy serving of sleaze and dirt? What fun would we have peeking through the open doors and windows at a make believe world where everyone behaved with the maximum of modesty? A world where all was equal and fair to every player in the fast paced games of love and hate. Of course, we'd be numb with boredom if all obeyed the law and toed every line, both legal and moral. We wouldn't likely bother to watch if the only words that fell from lips were the truth the whole truth and nothing else but. So naturally, we want to see deceit and debauchery, backstabbing and backbiting. After all, most of us watch because we want to be transported from our exciting (or not) presumably do unto others as we would have them do unto us lives. Lives where many rarely, if ever, cheat on their significant other and if they do, nearly maim themselves over it with multiple whacks of the guilty stick. Lives during which we may never have to wonder which snorting stallion fathered the colt or filly in our belly. Okay, not counting the many seeking DNA determination on Maury. But, speaking for myself and anyone else who feels as I do, we also watch because bit by bit, we come to care. We care about this couple and their great love affair. Thus we hate the one who comes along and callously rips it apart. When one is wronged when it wasn't deserved, no one enjoys the sweet taste of retribution more than us when we get to see one receive in spades what they once dealt to someone else.
But, what if all act wrong and none act right? What if all recite lies and not a soul tells the truth? Who then gets our sympathy? Who deserves derision and who devotion if every character is equally despicable?
For instance, Victoria. Am I the only fan who wants to send her complaining carcass to a corner with her face turned to the wall? So her man cheated on her? And that's what, a new experience for her? If I'm remembering my ancient history right, so did Ryan, the used to be love of her life. While she hid in the closet, no less. And didn't Cole stray into Ashley's yard, albeit, supposedly not until she ran off and deserted the marriage? Not to mention that if memory serves me correctly, Brad isn't the first man both Mommy and daughter have separately sampled. Cole was. But that's a bit beside the point. The point I'm getting around to is how can I possibly feel sorry for Victoria as she rants and raves at how her husband humiliated her? For even as she hypocritically harangues her hubby, repeatedly rubbing his nose in the manure mound he made, much like one would potty train a new puppy, she's no better than he. How many times can she play the injured party, when the only difference between what they each did, is that her dirty deed is still shielded in shadows. On top of that she gets to add her name to the millions of mommies who need DNA analysis to settle who sired her seed. Now my humiliation is complete, she said to Sharon, or words somewhat similar. No, Victoria, I think your full humiliation is still on its way. Just think of the crow meat she could have to choke down if it turns out that even as she ripped chunks from her husband's hide for his infidelity, her own was growing in her belly. And though some might argue that had Brad not strayed first she wouldn't have gone second, that gets her no free pass from me.
By the way, isn't publicity just the strangest thing in Genoa City? Nikki claimed intense public scrutiny is a cross every Newman must regretfully bear. The press is all over the fact that Brad did Sharon while married to Victoria. So why is not a single paparazzi crew stalking Victoria for a portrait of her pain for posterity? Why hasn't one nosy press person caught her draped over J.T., grinning as if she hasn't a care in the world? Why does no one know she's already practically unpacked her bags at Coed Casa. And another thing about the press, why has the press not had a field's day with the way Chow switched candidates in mid-stream?
Oh, while I'm on the subject of that silly Senator's race, I can hardly see what's happening in this storyline because my eyes are more often than not rolling up toward the ceiling in disbelief instead of focusing on the race. Every day there's a new scandal, yet no one's making a big deal about the fact that Nikki was once married to, and lost a child with, her opponent. Nor is there so much as a sliver of interest in the fact that she was once engaged to the man her daughter's now married to. Or that her current husband, the great and powerful wizard, is a felon convicted of corporate bribery. And what about her not so long ago association with Bobby Marsino and the running of his gentlemen's club? The new, but not necessarily improved Nikki is filled with a virulent hatred that not only does not become her, it doesn't matter to her in the least that once a woman who'd give her all for family, now she callously tromps all over her own daughter. And lastly, given that she knows nothing about anything, as evidenced when the Sleazy man tried to quiz her on the issues, I find it utterly unbelievable that anyone in Wisconsin would consider her a serious contender for Senator. But, hey what do I know?
So, did anyone think Gloria was actually about to get caught with her hand stuck in the jar of tainted cream? Yeah, despite the way things were shaping up, I didn't either. The name of this town should be changed from Genoa to Coincidental City. Because in nearly every instance you can see the coincidence coming from miles away. And this particular coincidence, DA Bardwell's stroke, can kill two bimbos, I mean birds, with one well aimed stone.
Stone one: now that the poor DA is comatose on the floor, the victim of an apparent stroke, Gloria gets to escape the sharp pain of payback yet again. And while Bardwell lies helpless, Gloria as his lawfully wedded wife, will presumably be free to fleece him of every million she can get her grubby mitts on. Undoubtedly, with little or no urging, her lawbreaking boys and dishonest daughter-in-law will aid her in whatever unlawful or unethical deed that needs doing to make sure her crème misdeed never sees the light of day. Makes me want to line them up like the three stooges and slap the lot of them into another soap. But, although I know I'm likely making a fool of myself, I will continue to cling stubbornly to the reed thin hope that William will either come to (eventually) and finish what he started or that someone else will figure out what he seems to have told no one about and that at last Gloria will be have to pay a stiff and painful penalty to the piper.
The other bird who might be released from their cage because of Bardwell's debilitation, is, of course, our feisty feline, Phyllis. Tired of being visited by her blood-bedecked mate, Phyllis has fled to Abbott Manor for protection. I guess, unlike John Abbott, Nick is only allowed on Newman ground. Okay, this one is almost too silly for words. First, Phyllis' injury is supposedly so severe, the slightest movement will apparently cause irreparable harm. Yet not so severe that she require a nurse. I mean, a real nurse, not nurse Snippy, I mean Sharon. And by my count and Sharon's changes of attire, she is already on day three on that couch in that dress and .... well, whatever else she had on when she faked that fall. Bedpan? Okay, I don't think I need go the rest of the way down that particular trail. So back to the DA. With him out of commission, is there any real chance Phyllis' case will proceed any further down the road to court? Doubtful. For now I'm guessing she's safe.
All right. Enough really is enough and too much is downright foolish. Is there really anything fun about watching Gloria troll for fish in the sea of old men? I can't speak for anyone else, but I find it tiresome watching certain Genoa City men prove out the adage that there's no fool like a horny old fool. Okay, so I added the horny part, but you know what I mean. Men so beguiled by Gloria's gaudy and obvious charms that they are driven to their deaths or prison all for the love of her. It seems only Jack can see the monster beneath her made up face and overdone manner. So, I guess it goes without my having to say so that I wasted not a single tear on Gloria's behalf. Because as usual, this slimy serpent manage to slither out of danger once again.
Boy, am I ever looking forward to the expected explosion when Nikki learns Brad sold his Clear Springs property to Jack. The Newman contingent has been so obnoxious and overbearing about commandeering the Clear Springs gravy train after Jack hooked up an engine, connected all the cars and drove it into the station, you would think they actually conceived the idea in their little bird brains.
So, I'm sure none of us have missed the fact that Jack has waxed poetic more than once about how he once wished Summer was his? Oh dear, does anyone else see another coincidence coming? And who else is experiencing a bit of déjà vu? Remember Diane, and Jack's desperate need to have his newly discovered baby boy on the Abbott premises? A baby boy that now doesn't even rate an occasional mention from his once devoted dad. Did Jack not learn a darn thing from the last time he tried to contain two mistresses under the same roof? Was Summer really sired by Jack? Or Nick?
Speaking of Nick, every rumor mill in cyberspace is grinding out grist about his imminent return. Apparently though the plane sank to the bottom of the sea, he obviously didn't. It's not yet known how many of his memories will be momentarily misplaced once he makes his way to Genoa City, in the flesh this time and not just as an apparition, nor is it clear where his affection might be directed. Will he return to Phyllis if she hasn't returned to Jack. Or Sharon, if she hasn't turned to Brad? Guess we'll have to wait and see.
Amber and Cane and Daniel and Lily and Garrett and Kevin, oh my. Nothing about Amber makes me care what happens to her. If she has a redeeming quality, I don't know what it might be. The hedonistic exhibitionist threw a rusty monkey wrench into the once happy workings of the Romalotti union for no other reason than because she felt like it. And the only way she can think of to try to fix it is to pile lie on top of lie. And right up there with her on the disgusting scale is Daniel, who clearly wouldn't know the truth if it knocked him upside his atrociously styled head. As for Garrett. Another man to hunger after Amber and help hide her lies. Who is he? Who cares? Will someone just take him away soon?
And lastly, whatever happened to Cane and his scheme with the mysterious Ethan? Here I was hoping for a meaty tale of villainy, and all I've gotten so far is Cane mooning endlessly over Amber. Yawn!
Oh well, that's about all I feel like saying about the confusing whirlwind of contradiction Genoa City has become. Fast is fine, but a little slower and a bit more thorough storytelling would be better. An occasional stranger is necessary now and then, but friends we care about will keep us coming back for more. Serve me an appetizer and let me savor it for more than a minute. I really don't want the entire contents of the refrigerator dumped on my plate at each and every meal.
One last thing. My head is fine. The tape in my VCR is brand spanking new. And I'm fully recovered from my tantrum over my media mishap. One day I'll move up to Tivo or DVR, but right now, can anyone say too cheap?! LOL
Okay, I'm done. Here's what you all had to say.