The Wonder Years (2021–…): Season 2, Episode 1 - Episode #2.1 - full transcript
The summer of '69
was a summer of
momentous events.
Russia was involved in a border
conflict on the brink of war,
inflation was the highest
it'd been in nearly 20 years,
and women didn't have
the right to choose.
Glad we don't live in
those times anymore.
Anyway...
for my Southern family,
summer used to bring barbecues,
road trips...
Everybody used
the bathroom, right?
Me first.
I'll just
go in the bushes.
And games.
If you're on my property where
I have a house, you pay me rent.
If you can't pay,
you go to jail.
He wasn't even
playing the game, y'all.
But what made the
summer of '69 different
was that I spent it in
New York City with my dad.
He was writing songs
for Marvin Gaye,
and I was trying to
make new friends.
Unfortunately, neither
of us had succeeded
in the month we'd been here.
I knew it'd been a month
because I was on my
fourth pair of underwear.
Is that
Mama on the phone?
Can I talk to her?
- Hey, Ma, guess what.
- That's enough.
You know how expensive
long-distance is.
Are things going better
with your song-writing?
No.
I haven't even met Marvin yet.
You want to take a
"boudoir" picture for you
and send it to you
for inspiration?
I can get it developed
tomorrow and rush delivery.
And you'll have it
five days later.
I'm not gonna say no to that.
"Sexting" may
have taken longer then,
but at least a guy
couldn't claim,
"I sent that by accident."
But nothing's working.
These songs are so bad,
Pat Boone wouldn't
even steal them.
Maybe we should
just come back home.
Wait, I haven't even
ridden in a taxi yet.
Ridden?
I couldn't even get one
to stop for me until '96.
You are Bill Williams,
the baddest song
writer there is.
In Alabama.
Anywhere.
And if you let New
York get to you,
you'll never forgive yourself.
You're right about that.
And don't worry
about things here.
Everything is just
like you left it.
Now help me get rid of the rest
of your father's old stuff.
Why does he even
have most of this?
Child, you know that man
can't let go of nothing.
He's like a baby with
a fistful of hair.
Oh, Lillian. Thank God.
All these houses look alike.
This is the fourth
door I've knocked on.
Jackie?
You know, you have
some rude neighbors.
I mean, just because
it's not the right house
doesn't mean I can't
use the bathroom.
Geez.
Aah!
Aunt Jackie!
Aaah!
Jackie
was Mom's sister,
and they were polar opposites,
which is why she was
our favorite relative.
We didn't see her often, and
whenever she was in town,
it usually meant
she needed money.
Oh!
Wh... What brings you into town?
Oh, I'm just
passing through, girl,
but don't worry.
I don't need nothing,
so you can tell
Bill he doesn't have
to hide his cash or his liquor.
Oh, well, Bill's out of town.
Well, in that case, where's
his cash and liquor?
Oh, I'm joking.
Oh. Uh, well, where
you off to now?
Oh, and whose car is that?
- Mm, my boyfriend Keith's.
- Mm?
You remember him. We used
to call him "Pooh-Star."
Anyway, he let me borrow it
so I can go to
Tuscaloosa tomorrow night
to see a friend perform
at a new nightclub.
Nightclub?
You told me Tuscaloosa
only had the University
of Alabama and churches.
- Hush.
- So, I was stopping by
to see if you guys
wanted to come with me.
Oh, you ain't said
nothing but a word.
Well, now, hold on, Kim.
We can't just up and leave.
We're having a
yard sale tomorrow.
Oh, that's what this is?
I thought y'all were
getting evicted.
You just don't want to go
'cause Daddy will get mad.
I'm not afraid of your father.
Oh, is that why you waited
for him to go to New York
before selling his stuff?
- Ooh.
- Ooh.
You know what?
Go pack a bag for the trip.
Ah, that's my girl!
I'm just gonna make
sure the phone is hung up
and Bill is not
still on the line.
♪ All I know ♪
♪ Ohhh, through the
highs and the lows ♪
♪ I'mma find my way home ♪
Dad's goal was to
sell a song to Marvin Gaye.
My goal was to make
New York friends.
We'd dodge trollies,
play stickball,
dance choreographed numbers.
Okay, so my
knowledge of New York
comes from timeless
musicals. So what?
I'll be home by 5:00.
Don't leave the house.
Don't answer the door.
Don't answer the phone.
Don't turn on the stove.
Don't spend all day watching TV.
So far, the most
exciting things I'd done
was watch my dad go to work
and watch two rats fight
over an egg roll,
which I later discovered
was another rat.
♪ What would Don Juan do... ♪
But this was new.
I certainly had no context
for a man wearing a dress.
I mean, in Alabama, we had
plenty of church ladies
with mustaches, sure,
but that didn't count.
♪ I say ♪
♪ It must be love ♪
Stop staring.
♪ It must be love, baby ♪
♪ It must be love ♪
♪ It must be love, baby ♪
Hello. I've got
an appointment.
- Your name?
- Robinson.
Oh, hey, Mr. Williams.
Here comes "Alabama."
Bag all you want. I'm
gonna sock it to Marvin.
He gonna love this one.
Let me guess. It's
probably got a banjo in it.
I couldn't
believe the blatant disrespect
they showed my dad because
we were from Alabama.
I mean, it's not like we
were from Mississippi.
Wait till you hear this one.
♪ When I'm in your
arms, time... ♪
Stop. Stop. I'm gonna
stop you right there.
But I hadn't got to
the best part yet.
You know who else isn't
gonna get to the best part?
Anybody listening.
Can you step
back a little, please?
Marvin's here.
Hey, what's
happening, fellas?
I'm loving the new material.
Thanks, Marvin.
There's more where
that came from.
You see...
Daaaaaamn, Alabama.
What?
It's not my fault that
it's a catchy nickname.
Armstrong is on the
moon. Neil Armstrong.
Okay, I'm gonna
step off the LEM now.
A 38-year-old American
standing on the surface
- of the moon.
- Dean, I need your help.
The guys at the studio
said my music wasn't
what the kids are dancing to,
so I need you to let me know
when I'm onto something.
That's
one small step...
Uh, okay. Sure, I guess.
Okay, uh...
One giant
leap for mankind.
Oh, you need a better line
for this "oooo" sound.
There's, uh, poo-poo,
boo-boo, poo-poo...
- You're not even trying.
- Uh, I'm sorry, Dad,
but the moon walk's
about to happen live
and you're gonna
make me miss it.
Fine. We can watch
the moon walk,
but afterwards,
we work on songs.
How do we even know
if this is real?
You can't believe
everything you see on TV.
And how's the government
have enough money
to send a bunch of
white guys to the moon,
but can't fix that
stoplight on 4th and Kent?
How do we know who's
in those suits?
They probably switched
out the white astronauts
with Black ones in case
something go wrong.
You see,
before Twitter, old men
just had their sons to
yell crazy theories at.
Mm, but if it is real,
them cats are the
baddest dudes around.
You can't give up and
still make it to the moon.
Dad couldn't
help but be inspired,
just like I was inspired to
take my own "Giant Step."
Tomorrow, I'm gonna sneak
out while Dad's gone
and explore New York
and make new friends.
And if I get caught,
well, at least I know
I can run away and
live on the moon.
Ha! Let's see Daddy try
to whup me from there.
We're just
going to Tuscaloosa
and coming right back.
We know.
Oh. Are you seeing
what I'm seeing?
I am, but we don't have time.
Plus, it's dark.
Girl, those
plums look ripe.
We could make wine with them.
- Yeah!
- Kim.
Are you sure we're
allowed to do this?
Mm-hmm. Me and
your mama used to do this
all the time growing up.
So, how do you know this
"friend" we're going to see?
From around.
Around where?
Around where we was.
What's with all the questions?
You should hear the
questions I have to answer
about what I was wearing
to a political rally.
- She was the same way with me.
- Mm, mm, mm.
Y'all two ain't
gonna be ganging up on me
out here picking plums.
Uh-oh. "Ain't"?
When the grammar goes, you
know she's about to pop.
Ooh. One time, she
actually cussed.
Hush your mouth!
You can tease all you want,
but there is never an excuse
for improper language.
There was
nothing scarier to us
than the angry face of
a white police officer.
Unless, of
course, it was the angry face
of a black police officer.
You see, black officers
couldn't really
arrest white people,
so when we ran afoul
of a black officer,
he might be very eager
to assert his authority.
'Nuff said.
We'll put the plums
back on the tree.
Jackie, let me do the talking.
Hello, Officer.
My name is Lillian Williams
and I'm from Montgomery,
and I work for the
state, just like you.
Y'all have some "House
Negro" code or something?
Shut up.
No. Let me handle this.
Did you know that this
vehicle's been reported stolen?
This is my boyfriend
Keith's car.
You would have a
boyfriend who steals cars.
Keith Freeman is the person
who reported it stolen.
Jackie, you stole this
car from your boyfriend?!
Uh, what?
I mean, yes, fine,
we had a fight.
I caught him cheating and I
wanted to teach him a lesson.
Jackie.
I mean, that's why
I wanted to go see my friend
Toby Jenkins play tonight.
I mean, what's good for the
goose is good for the gander.
Wait, you
guys on your way to see
- Sweet Tea Jenkins?
- Mm-hmm.
That's... That's
gonna be a good show.
I'm on my way there, too.
Oh.
As soon as I take you
guys in to the station.
Tag, you're it!
I snuck
out of the apartment
as soon as Daddy left for work.
I'd finally
ventured out into the city.
The sights, the
sounds, the smells!
In Alabama, when someone
says "street food,"
they usually mean roadkill,
and it didn't smell anywhere
near as good as this.
Yeah, I didn't
know what that was about,
but I was in New York, baby!
Hi, uh, my name's Dean.
Where'd you get them shoes?
Can you fight?
I couldn't
fight, but I'm pretty sure
I deafened them with my scream
as they stole my shoes and belt.
Damn it!
I forgot I hid my
key in my shoe.
Houston,
we have a problem.
Daddy.
Got yourself
locked out, didn't you?
Uh-oh.
The guy in the dress.
Dad had told me not to
stare, but he also told me
to always look adults in the
eye when I spoke to them.
You got me in the
spin cycle, Dad.
Uh, yeah. I must've
left my key inside.
Hmm. You don't sound like
you're from around here.
I'm from Alabama.
Montgomery.
It's the capital.
Child, I know where
Montgomery is.
I'm from Union Springs.
Oh, you're from the country.
Says the boy sitting
outside with no shoes on.
- Touché.
- I'm Lonnie.
- I'm Dean.
- Well, Dean,
you better hope your daddy
comes back before dark,
because the rats start at the
feet and they work their way up.
Three hours
and two rats later...
You still here?
Yeah.
Aren't you brave.
Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm.
You hungry?
Mm, I bet it's been a while
since you've had some good,
Southern cooking, huh?
- Maybe a little.
- Yeah?
Lucky for you, I made
too much for just me.
Oh, look at this. I got
some slippers in here, too.
I guess I'll just sit
here till you finish.
Get my plate back, of course.
Where's your
dress, sweetheart?
Did you run
out of lipstick?
I felt bad for him.
Lord knows I knew what
it was like to be teased.
Should I say something?
Should I tell him
just to ignore the...
Get back here, you little punks!
Nope. He got this.
Give me a slipper.
Give me a slipper!
- Ow!
- Oh!
Mm, spending
all night in jail.
This is a new low,
even for you, Jackie.
I'm afraid we have
to impound the vehicle.
Now, the release paperwork
may take a little while
since two of you have previous
arrests on your records.
- Two of us?
- Two of us?
Well, ain't nobody surprised
I've been arrested before.
And I haven't been.
Damn it. I thought
they got it expunged.
Lillian!
It was... I was...
I was in college,
so it barely counts.
Before I go to college,
can I get that in writing?
After all these years
of making me feel
like the black
sheep of the family.
Well, first of all, I
never called you that.
- Might as well have.
- So, what did you do?
Sit-in? Campus protest?
Freedom Rider?
A bunch of us ran across
The Yard, butt naked,
right in front of a statue
of Booker T. Washington.
I was pledging.
It was a sorority prank.
Don't laugh.
I was terrified.
They put us in handcuffs
and everything.
I thought I was
gonna end up on a chain gang
married to a woman
like Moms Mabley.
"Perfect" Lillian is an ex-con?
Well, I'm not an ex-con,
but I'm certainly
not perfect either.
I guess we're not so
different like I thought,
after all these years.
Kim Williams, your
paperwork's done.
You can leave now.
I'll see y'all at home.
You're just gonna leave?
How are you gonna get there?
I'll hitch a ride with
the nice police officer.
Please get me out of here
with these criminals.
Dean, what are
you doing outside?
Uh, hey, Dad. This is Lonnie.
Uh, I locked myself out,
so he stayed out here with
me until you got home.
Much appreciation.
Name's Bill. You
look familiar.
We actually bumped
into each other earlier
when I was on my way
back from rehearsal...
dressed for my show
in the Village.
Right. The Village.
- I
- didn't really know
what my dad and
Lonnie weren't saying.
I was just happy to have
met somebody from back home.
Plus, my toes were in
fuzzy cotton heaven.
And were you auditioning
for his show?
Oh, uh, some kids robbed me,
so Lonnie let me wear these.
Hey, he's been robbed.
Now he's a real New
Yorker.
Well, thanks again.
Dean, give Lonnie
back his wardrobe
and say "thank you." Let's go.
Bill, can I offer
you some dinner?
Oh, I don't know about...
What's that?
- Ox tail?
- Tastes just like Mama's.
No pressure. I'm sure you
guys got a refrigerator
full of good old
"down home" food.
Well, we got bologna
and potatoes.
We probably shouldn't be rude.
I'll take you up on the offer.
Then it's settled. Come on up.
Stop it.
Your grandmother did not live
on Bibb Street in Tuskegee.
My dad's grandmother
lived on Bibb Street.
Yeah, I'm telling you,
the house was so tiny,
the front door
was the back door.
Um
Well, uh, maybe we're cousins
somewhere down the line.
It is a small world.
Well, my grandmother's
dead, so we'll never know.
She's dead.
Um, well, uh, you two are
both performers from Alabama.
I'm surprised you haven't
heard of each other.
Yeah, we probably wouldn't
have played the same places.
Um, maybe Lonnie can
give you some tips,
since he's used to
performing in New York.
I'd love to give you some
tips. Only if you want them.
Well, my dad's been trying to
sell a song to Marvin Gaye,
- but he's not good.
- Dean.
Tell him about the
songs in the trash.
- Dean.
- Don't be embarrassed.
When I first got to
New York, I searched
for what felt like forever
for what my act was gonna be.
No one wanted to
hear Lonnie Edmonds'
beat poetry about politics,
but they loved hearing
"Sybil Disobedience"
lip-sync about it.
Sybil
Disobedience.
I see what you did there.
Well, it's... It's
nothing, really.
I just gotta figure out a way
to tap into a different groove
than I'm used to.
I got something I
want you to try.
White folks call it
"primal screaming."
It's supposed to tap into stuff
your conscious mind pushed away.
All you gotta do
is scream as loud
as you can from deep inside.
You want my dad to scream?
Just tell him you lost a nickel.
You want me to scream?
In your kitchen?
Yeah.
Look, I'll do it with you.
One, two, three.
I think I just felt something.
I was
actually screaming
because I saw a roach so big,
it should have been paying rent.
But I'm glad this
was helping Daddy.
Hm.
- Yeah.
- Mm-hmm.
Yeah, this is good.
- Right?
- Yeah, this is good, man.
It's good. But there's something
else I want you to try.
Come into my bedroom.
Where my clothes are.
Right.
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
♪ Speak your mind,
say how you feel ♪
♪ Take off your cool,
baby, just keep it real ♪
♪ Sing something true ♪
♪ Sing it out loud ♪
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
Okay. Not
bad. Not bad at all.
It's called "Southern
Hospitality,"
'cause that's how
we do it in Alabama.
I don't
believe we've met.
- Marvin.
- Bill.
I was just playing these cats
a song I wrote
especially for you.
Well, let me
hear what you got, man.
All right.
♪ Here's something different ♪
His new look
was temporary, of course,
but the success wasn't.
Dad sold "Southern
Hospitality" to Marvin Gaye,
and the floodgates
opened from there.
Oh, there he is. The
big guy.
After
that, "Alabama"
took on a different
meeting in the studio.
♪ Speak your mind,
say how you feel ♪
I'd accomplished
my goal of making a friend
in New York City, but not
in the way I'd expected.
I taught Lonnie everything I
knew about the Apollo missions,
and he introduced me
to New York things
like Broadway shows.
Well, off-off-Broadway, mainly.
And when his piano
player got sick,
Daddy even filled
in at his show.
♪ Ain't nobody playing... ♪
Now, I was
grown before I understood
why Lonnie had to move
all the way to New York
before he could
finally be himself,
but meeting him helped
me enjoy my time there.
He and Daddy fell out
of touch after a while,
but I hope one day Lonnie
was able to finally
go back to Alabama, boa and all.
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
I'd have to say,
it was the best summer ever.
Now, that's how we do it.
But Daddy
could tell it was time
to pack our bags and go home.
Dean, pack your bags.
We're going home.
Houston,
we're coming home.
Boy, stop talking to
yourself and let's go!
Sorry!
Captioned by VITAC...
was a summer of
momentous events.
Russia was involved in a border
conflict on the brink of war,
inflation was the highest
it'd been in nearly 20 years,
and women didn't have
the right to choose.
Glad we don't live in
those times anymore.
Anyway...
for my Southern family,
summer used to bring barbecues,
road trips...
Everybody used
the bathroom, right?
Me first.
I'll just
go in the bushes.
And games.
If you're on my property where
I have a house, you pay me rent.
If you can't pay,
you go to jail.
He wasn't even
playing the game, y'all.
But what made the
summer of '69 different
was that I spent it in
New York City with my dad.
He was writing songs
for Marvin Gaye,
and I was trying to
make new friends.
Unfortunately, neither
of us had succeeded
in the month we'd been here.
I knew it'd been a month
because I was on my
fourth pair of underwear.
Is that
Mama on the phone?
Can I talk to her?
- Hey, Ma, guess what.
- That's enough.
You know how expensive
long-distance is.
Are things going better
with your song-writing?
No.
I haven't even met Marvin yet.
You want to take a
"boudoir" picture for you
and send it to you
for inspiration?
I can get it developed
tomorrow and rush delivery.
And you'll have it
five days later.
I'm not gonna say no to that.
"Sexting" may
have taken longer then,
but at least a guy
couldn't claim,
"I sent that by accident."
But nothing's working.
These songs are so bad,
Pat Boone wouldn't
even steal them.
Maybe we should
just come back home.
Wait, I haven't even
ridden in a taxi yet.
Ridden?
I couldn't even get one
to stop for me until '96.
You are Bill Williams,
the baddest song
writer there is.
In Alabama.
Anywhere.
And if you let New
York get to you,
you'll never forgive yourself.
You're right about that.
And don't worry
about things here.
Everything is just
like you left it.
Now help me get rid of the rest
of your father's old stuff.
Why does he even
have most of this?
Child, you know that man
can't let go of nothing.
He's like a baby with
a fistful of hair.
Oh, Lillian. Thank God.
All these houses look alike.
This is the fourth
door I've knocked on.
Jackie?
You know, you have
some rude neighbors.
I mean, just because
it's not the right house
doesn't mean I can't
use the bathroom.
Geez.
Aah!
Aunt Jackie!
Aaah!
Jackie
was Mom's sister,
and they were polar opposites,
which is why she was
our favorite relative.
We didn't see her often, and
whenever she was in town,
it usually meant
she needed money.
Oh!
Wh... What brings you into town?
Oh, I'm just
passing through, girl,
but don't worry.
I don't need nothing,
so you can tell
Bill he doesn't have
to hide his cash or his liquor.
Oh, well, Bill's out of town.
Well, in that case, where's
his cash and liquor?
Oh, I'm joking.
Oh. Uh, well, where
you off to now?
Oh, and whose car is that?
- Mm, my boyfriend Keith's.
- Mm?
You remember him. We used
to call him "Pooh-Star."
Anyway, he let me borrow it
so I can go to
Tuscaloosa tomorrow night
to see a friend perform
at a new nightclub.
Nightclub?
You told me Tuscaloosa
only had the University
of Alabama and churches.
- Hush.
- So, I was stopping by
to see if you guys
wanted to come with me.
Oh, you ain't said
nothing but a word.
Well, now, hold on, Kim.
We can't just up and leave.
We're having a
yard sale tomorrow.
Oh, that's what this is?
I thought y'all were
getting evicted.
You just don't want to go
'cause Daddy will get mad.
I'm not afraid of your father.
Oh, is that why you waited
for him to go to New York
before selling his stuff?
- Ooh.
- Ooh.
You know what?
Go pack a bag for the trip.
Ah, that's my girl!
I'm just gonna make
sure the phone is hung up
and Bill is not
still on the line.
♪ All I know ♪
♪ Ohhh, through the
highs and the lows ♪
♪ I'mma find my way home ♪
Dad's goal was to
sell a song to Marvin Gaye.
My goal was to make
New York friends.
We'd dodge trollies,
play stickball,
dance choreographed numbers.
Okay, so my
knowledge of New York
comes from timeless
musicals. So what?
I'll be home by 5:00.
Don't leave the house.
Don't answer the door.
Don't answer the phone.
Don't turn on the stove.
Don't spend all day watching TV.
So far, the most
exciting things I'd done
was watch my dad go to work
and watch two rats fight
over an egg roll,
which I later discovered
was another rat.
♪ What would Don Juan do... ♪
But this was new.
I certainly had no context
for a man wearing a dress.
I mean, in Alabama, we had
plenty of church ladies
with mustaches, sure,
but that didn't count.
♪ I say ♪
♪ It must be love ♪
Stop staring.
♪ It must be love, baby ♪
♪ It must be love ♪
♪ It must be love, baby ♪
Hello. I've got
an appointment.
- Your name?
- Robinson.
Oh, hey, Mr. Williams.
Here comes "Alabama."
Bag all you want. I'm
gonna sock it to Marvin.
He gonna love this one.
Let me guess. It's
probably got a banjo in it.
I couldn't
believe the blatant disrespect
they showed my dad because
we were from Alabama.
I mean, it's not like we
were from Mississippi.
Wait till you hear this one.
♪ When I'm in your
arms, time... ♪
Stop. Stop. I'm gonna
stop you right there.
But I hadn't got to
the best part yet.
You know who else isn't
gonna get to the best part?
Anybody listening.
Can you step
back a little, please?
Marvin's here.
Hey, what's
happening, fellas?
I'm loving the new material.
Thanks, Marvin.
There's more where
that came from.
You see...
Daaaaaamn, Alabama.
What?
It's not my fault that
it's a catchy nickname.
Armstrong is on the
moon. Neil Armstrong.
Okay, I'm gonna
step off the LEM now.
A 38-year-old American
standing on the surface
- of the moon.
- Dean, I need your help.
The guys at the studio
said my music wasn't
what the kids are dancing to,
so I need you to let me know
when I'm onto something.
That's
one small step...
Uh, okay. Sure, I guess.
Okay, uh...
One giant
leap for mankind.
Oh, you need a better line
for this "oooo" sound.
There's, uh, poo-poo,
boo-boo, poo-poo...
- You're not even trying.
- Uh, I'm sorry, Dad,
but the moon walk's
about to happen live
and you're gonna
make me miss it.
Fine. We can watch
the moon walk,
but afterwards,
we work on songs.
How do we even know
if this is real?
You can't believe
everything you see on TV.
And how's the government
have enough money
to send a bunch of
white guys to the moon,
but can't fix that
stoplight on 4th and Kent?
How do we know who's
in those suits?
They probably switched
out the white astronauts
with Black ones in case
something go wrong.
You see,
before Twitter, old men
just had their sons to
yell crazy theories at.
Mm, but if it is real,
them cats are the
baddest dudes around.
You can't give up and
still make it to the moon.
Dad couldn't
help but be inspired,
just like I was inspired to
take my own "Giant Step."
Tomorrow, I'm gonna sneak
out while Dad's gone
and explore New York
and make new friends.
And if I get caught,
well, at least I know
I can run away and
live on the moon.
Ha! Let's see Daddy try
to whup me from there.
We're just
going to Tuscaloosa
and coming right back.
We know.
Oh. Are you seeing
what I'm seeing?
I am, but we don't have time.
Plus, it's dark.
Girl, those
plums look ripe.
We could make wine with them.
- Yeah!
- Kim.
Are you sure we're
allowed to do this?
Mm-hmm. Me and
your mama used to do this
all the time growing up.
So, how do you know this
"friend" we're going to see?
From around.
Around where?
Around where we was.
What's with all the questions?
You should hear the
questions I have to answer
about what I was wearing
to a political rally.
- She was the same way with me.
- Mm, mm, mm.
Y'all two ain't
gonna be ganging up on me
out here picking plums.
Uh-oh. "Ain't"?
When the grammar goes, you
know she's about to pop.
Ooh. One time, she
actually cussed.
Hush your mouth!
You can tease all you want,
but there is never an excuse
for improper language.
There was
nothing scarier to us
than the angry face of
a white police officer.
Unless, of
course, it was the angry face
of a black police officer.
You see, black officers
couldn't really
arrest white people,
so when we ran afoul
of a black officer,
he might be very eager
to assert his authority.
'Nuff said.
We'll put the plums
back on the tree.
Jackie, let me do the talking.
Hello, Officer.
My name is Lillian Williams
and I'm from Montgomery,
and I work for the
state, just like you.
Y'all have some "House
Negro" code or something?
Shut up.
No. Let me handle this.
Did you know that this
vehicle's been reported stolen?
This is my boyfriend
Keith's car.
You would have a
boyfriend who steals cars.
Keith Freeman is the person
who reported it stolen.
Jackie, you stole this
car from your boyfriend?!
Uh, what?
I mean, yes, fine,
we had a fight.
I caught him cheating and I
wanted to teach him a lesson.
Jackie.
I mean, that's why
I wanted to go see my friend
Toby Jenkins play tonight.
I mean, what's good for the
goose is good for the gander.
Wait, you
guys on your way to see
- Sweet Tea Jenkins?
- Mm-hmm.
That's... That's
gonna be a good show.
I'm on my way there, too.
Oh.
As soon as I take you
guys in to the station.
Tag, you're it!
I snuck
out of the apartment
as soon as Daddy left for work.
I'd finally
ventured out into the city.
The sights, the
sounds, the smells!
In Alabama, when someone
says "street food,"
they usually mean roadkill,
and it didn't smell anywhere
near as good as this.
Yeah, I didn't
know what that was about,
but I was in New York, baby!
Hi, uh, my name's Dean.
Where'd you get them shoes?
Can you fight?
I couldn't
fight, but I'm pretty sure
I deafened them with my scream
as they stole my shoes and belt.
Damn it!
I forgot I hid my
key in my shoe.
Houston,
we have a problem.
Daddy.
Got yourself
locked out, didn't you?
Uh-oh.
The guy in the dress.
Dad had told me not to
stare, but he also told me
to always look adults in the
eye when I spoke to them.
You got me in the
spin cycle, Dad.
Uh, yeah. I must've
left my key inside.
Hmm. You don't sound like
you're from around here.
I'm from Alabama.
Montgomery.
It's the capital.
Child, I know where
Montgomery is.
I'm from Union Springs.
Oh, you're from the country.
Says the boy sitting
outside with no shoes on.
- Touché.
- I'm Lonnie.
- I'm Dean.
- Well, Dean,
you better hope your daddy
comes back before dark,
because the rats start at the
feet and they work their way up.
Three hours
and two rats later...
You still here?
Yeah.
Aren't you brave.
Mm, mm, mm, mm, mm.
You hungry?
Mm, I bet it's been a while
since you've had some good,
Southern cooking, huh?
- Maybe a little.
- Yeah?
Lucky for you, I made
too much for just me.
Oh, look at this. I got
some slippers in here, too.
I guess I'll just sit
here till you finish.
Get my plate back, of course.
Where's your
dress, sweetheart?
Did you run
out of lipstick?
I felt bad for him.
Lord knows I knew what
it was like to be teased.
Should I say something?
Should I tell him
just to ignore the...
Get back here, you little punks!
Nope. He got this.
Give me a slipper.
Give me a slipper!
- Ow!
- Oh!
Mm, spending
all night in jail.
This is a new low,
even for you, Jackie.
I'm afraid we have
to impound the vehicle.
Now, the release paperwork
may take a little while
since two of you have previous
arrests on your records.
- Two of us?
- Two of us?
Well, ain't nobody surprised
I've been arrested before.
And I haven't been.
Damn it. I thought
they got it expunged.
Lillian!
It was... I was...
I was in college,
so it barely counts.
Before I go to college,
can I get that in writing?
After all these years
of making me feel
like the black
sheep of the family.
Well, first of all, I
never called you that.
- Might as well have.
- So, what did you do?
Sit-in? Campus protest?
Freedom Rider?
A bunch of us ran across
The Yard, butt naked,
right in front of a statue
of Booker T. Washington.
I was pledging.
It was a sorority prank.
Don't laugh.
I was terrified.
They put us in handcuffs
and everything.
I thought I was
gonna end up on a chain gang
married to a woman
like Moms Mabley.
"Perfect" Lillian is an ex-con?
Well, I'm not an ex-con,
but I'm certainly
not perfect either.
I guess we're not so
different like I thought,
after all these years.
Kim Williams, your
paperwork's done.
You can leave now.
I'll see y'all at home.
You're just gonna leave?
How are you gonna get there?
I'll hitch a ride with
the nice police officer.
Please get me out of here
with these criminals.
Dean, what are
you doing outside?
Uh, hey, Dad. This is Lonnie.
Uh, I locked myself out,
so he stayed out here with
me until you got home.
Much appreciation.
Name's Bill. You
look familiar.
We actually bumped
into each other earlier
when I was on my way
back from rehearsal...
dressed for my show
in the Village.
Right. The Village.
- I
- didn't really know
what my dad and
Lonnie weren't saying.
I was just happy to have
met somebody from back home.
Plus, my toes were in
fuzzy cotton heaven.
And were you auditioning
for his show?
Oh, uh, some kids robbed me,
so Lonnie let me wear these.
Hey, he's been robbed.
Now he's a real New
Yorker.
Well, thanks again.
Dean, give Lonnie
back his wardrobe
and say "thank you." Let's go.
Bill, can I offer
you some dinner?
Oh, I don't know about...
What's that?
- Ox tail?
- Tastes just like Mama's.
No pressure. I'm sure you
guys got a refrigerator
full of good old
"down home" food.
Well, we got bologna
and potatoes.
We probably shouldn't be rude.
I'll take you up on the offer.
Then it's settled. Come on up.
Stop it.
Your grandmother did not live
on Bibb Street in Tuskegee.
My dad's grandmother
lived on Bibb Street.
Yeah, I'm telling you,
the house was so tiny,
the front door
was the back door.
Um
Well, uh, maybe we're cousins
somewhere down the line.
It is a small world.
Well, my grandmother's
dead, so we'll never know.
She's dead.
Um, well, uh, you two are
both performers from Alabama.
I'm surprised you haven't
heard of each other.
Yeah, we probably wouldn't
have played the same places.
Um, maybe Lonnie can
give you some tips,
since he's used to
performing in New York.
I'd love to give you some
tips. Only if you want them.
Well, my dad's been trying to
sell a song to Marvin Gaye,
- but he's not good.
- Dean.
Tell him about the
songs in the trash.
- Dean.
- Don't be embarrassed.
When I first got to
New York, I searched
for what felt like forever
for what my act was gonna be.
No one wanted to
hear Lonnie Edmonds'
beat poetry about politics,
but they loved hearing
"Sybil Disobedience"
lip-sync about it.
Sybil
Disobedience.
I see what you did there.
Well, it's... It's
nothing, really.
I just gotta figure out a way
to tap into a different groove
than I'm used to.
I got something I
want you to try.
White folks call it
"primal screaming."
It's supposed to tap into stuff
your conscious mind pushed away.
All you gotta do
is scream as loud
as you can from deep inside.
You want my dad to scream?
Just tell him you lost a nickel.
You want me to scream?
In your kitchen?
Yeah.
Look, I'll do it with you.
One, two, three.
I think I just felt something.
I was
actually screaming
because I saw a roach so big,
it should have been paying rent.
But I'm glad this
was helping Daddy.
Hm.
- Yeah.
- Mm-hmm.
Yeah, this is good.
- Right?
- Yeah, this is good, man.
It's good. But there's something
else I want you to try.
Come into my bedroom.
Where my clothes are.
Right.
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
♪ Speak your mind,
say how you feel ♪
♪ Take off your cool,
baby, just keep it real ♪
♪ Sing something true ♪
♪ Sing it out loud ♪
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
Okay. Not
bad. Not bad at all.
It's called "Southern
Hospitality,"
'cause that's how
we do it in Alabama.
I don't
believe we've met.
- Marvin.
- Bill.
I was just playing these cats
a song I wrote
especially for you.
Well, let me
hear what you got, man.
All right.
♪ Here's something different ♪
His new look
was temporary, of course,
but the success wasn't.
Dad sold "Southern
Hospitality" to Marvin Gaye,
and the floodgates
opened from there.
Oh, there he is. The
big guy.
After
that, "Alabama"
took on a different
meeting in the studio.
♪ Speak your mind,
say how you feel ♪
I'd accomplished
my goal of making a friend
in New York City, but not
in the way I'd expected.
I taught Lonnie everything I
knew about the Apollo missions,
and he introduced me
to New York things
like Broadway shows.
Well, off-off-Broadway, mainly.
And when his piano
player got sick,
Daddy even filled
in at his show.
♪ Ain't nobody playing... ♪
Now, I was
grown before I understood
why Lonnie had to move
all the way to New York
before he could
finally be himself,
but meeting him helped
me enjoy my time there.
He and Daddy fell out
of touch after a while,
but I hope one day Lonnie
was able to finally
go back to Alabama, boa and all.
♪ That's how we
do it down South ♪
I'd have to say,
it was the best summer ever.
Now, that's how we do it.
But Daddy
could tell it was time
to pack our bags and go home.
Dean, pack your bags.
We're going home.
Houston,
we're coming home.
Boy, stop talking to
yourself and let's go!
Sorry!
Captioned by VITAC...