04x08 - The Zone

[bunniefuu]

Bull's-eye.

Okay, was that natural talent,

an acquired skill, or just plain luck?

You decide.

You know, some things you're born good at,

some things you get good at, and sometimes,

you have goodness thrust upon you.

Here's an example of natural talent,

my talent for shutting up my motormouth brother.

Hey, what are you doing? That's no way to fold socks.

The top part gets all stretchy.

There's a much better way to do that.

I thought everybody knew that.

First, you put them together.

Then you smooth them out.

Then you fold them over.

Then there are acquired skills,

you know, the stuff that you actually have to work on

to get good at,

like knowing what to say when your dad presents

his latest architectural wonder.

I call it Sneakers To Go.

What do you think?

Gee, Dad, it's really...unique.

Finally, there's that old stand-by...

[telephone rings]

Hello?

Good old-fashioned luck.

I guess the point is, whether it's a gift, a skill,

or just plain old luck, when you've got it,

you've got it.

The only question is, how do you get it back?

[upbeat music]

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ All right, all right

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Na na na na na na

♪ Way cool

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ All right, all right

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ Way cool

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Naa naa na-na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ Just do it

Okay, I know this may sound odd,

but for some strange reason,

out of the blue, I've discovered the flute.

I guess I mean rediscovered.

It wasn't always this way.

It all started two years ago

when I had to take home ec or band, some choice.

They didn't even have the instrument

that I really wanted.

Oh, Clarissa, we're out of trombones.

Why don't you try the flute?

I was assigned the wimp of the woodwind section.

For a while, I could only produce sounds

no one could hear.

[dogs barking]

No one on two legs, anyway.

[band warming up]

[Clarissa playing well]

But after steady practice,

I found myself today at : p.m.

in Mrs. Doppeldew's music class.

All of a sudden, it felt good,

really good.

Clarissa, that was beautiful!

Oh, you have made a real breakthrough!

Now we are going to have to do something

with this amazing talent that you have been hiding.

So now Mrs. Doppeldew has me performing a solo

in the school recital next week.

The weird thing is, I'm really psyched about it.

It used to be I hated going to those things,

forget aboutbeingin them.

Still lately, I've been getting some strange thrill

out of hitting those high notes.

And I don't care who's watching.

[playing gentle flute music]

[ladder bangs]

[twangy guitar chord]

Hey, Clarissa.

Clarissa?

What kind of music are you listening to?

Hey, I thought that was a CD.

You're getting really good, Clarissa.

Clarissa?

Oh, hi, Sam.

Didn't you notice me?

I guess not, I was playing and something clicked, I guess.

I'll say.

But classical?

I know.

Who'd have thought that guys in wigs years ago

could write music so cool?

Okay.

Well, I just came over to give you back

your , Maniacs tape,

but it sounds like your taste in music is changing, so...

Not so fast, Sam.

My taste in music is expanding, not changing.

Can't blame me for trying.

Just because I'm really into playing the flute

doesn't mean I'm giving up guitars.

Hey, Mom. What's that,

a remote control for the toaster?

No, Ferguson, I'm testing our appliances for EMFs.

EMFs?

The only appliance you're gonna hear EMF on

is the radio.

Besides, they haven't had a new album out in a while.

EMFs, electromagnetic fields.

I knew that.

Some people think too much EMF exposure

can pose a health risk,

and we were talking about it at the museum,

so I thought I'd check it out.

Ah.

So...so the toaster might be k*lling me.

Well, I doubt it, but it would be nice to know

we lived in a nontoxic environment.

Nontoxic?

You mean we're sending Ferguson away?

Mom happens to be testing for EMFs,

something I'm sure you've heard nothing about.

I saw them live.

Shows how much you know.

EMF stands for--Electromagnetic fields.

So, Mom,

how much do one of these EMF detector things go for?

Well, I borrowed this one from the children's museum,

but I think they cost a couple hundred dollars.

Ooh, the neighbors really should know about this,

but they can't be expected

to shell out a couple of hundred bucks a piece.

I know...

Uh-oh.

Why should the neighbors pay for their own EMF testing kits

when an expert can test their homes for them?

And who might that expert be?

Mmm, I don't know. I haven't given it much thought.

Me.

Oh, you could start a neighborhood EMF watch.

Hmm, I wonder how much I should charge as a fee.

Ferguson!

Oh, Clarissa, Mrs. Doppeldew called about your flute solo.

That's wonderful news.

Yeah.

Usually, I don't do that kind of thing,

but this should be fun.

I'm playing this really cool piece by Bach.

Did I just use the words "cool" and "Bach"

in the same sentence?

What's happening to me?

So you're finally starting to enjoy the flute, huh, sport?

Yeah, Dad, it was the weirdest thing.

It was like two years of practice

finally kicked in.

My breath control, my fingering, my phrasing,

they all work together.

Usually, I'm lucky to get two out of three.

Her teacher says she has a real gift.

Oh, well, that makes sense.

Music ability runs in the family.

I mean, I was a pretty fair drummer

back in college, if I say so myself.

Dad, you used to play the drums?

Mm-hm.

b*at them to death is more like it.

He said it was releasing aggression.

No, that was the name of the band.

If only I'd stuck with it...

[in British accent] I would have put Ringo

out of a job.

I'm kind of glad Dad didn't stick with it.

Why is that, Clarissa?

Because then we'd have to deal with a new kind of EMF:

entertainment by middle-aged fathers.

Sure, Sam. Come by.

I'll just be practicing my solo.

Okay. See you later.

Bye.

Okay, I've put aside the whole morning

to practice my piece.

I figure if I memorize it today,

I can just walk out onstage, no music, and just play.

That will blow them away.

All I need is one major morning of total focus,

undisturbed, uninterrupted--

[knock on door]

Hey, sport.

I...I brought you something I like you to have.

What's that, Dad?

Oh, some sheet music back from when I was a musician.

Yeah, we did some wicked Jethro Tull covers back then,

and there's some stuff for the flute in there.

Great.Yeah.

It's great to see you so excited about your music.

I'd hate to see you hang it up like I did.

So, you know, maybe if you really stick with it,

you could hit the big time, huh?

Be the first Darling to win a Grammy.

Whoa, Dad, slow down.

I don't even have my first gold record yet.

It's just a school recital.

Well, you know, you never know where it could lead.

I mean, where did Mozart get his start?

Playing for the crowned heads of Europe.

Yeah, yeah.

Well, that was sort of an th-century version

of the school recital.

I mean, everybody's got to start somewhere, sport, hey?

Well, no pressure there.

Just top Mozart.

Jethro Tull?

Who's he?

Oh, sorry to interrupt,

but I just had to tell you that--oh.

Guess who Mrs. Doppeldew invited to the recital?

Jethro Tull?

Close.

Zoe Van Ziniazanza.

Zoe Van Ziniazanza?

Madame Zoe Van Ziniazanza?

She's the best flute instructor in the state.

You know, she only takes one new student a year,

and some of her students have gone on to play

with the finest symphony orchestras in the country.

What does she want to see me for?

Well, she'll be there to hear the whole recital,

but I don't know how she could miss you

performing the evening's only flute solo.

Yeah, that would be kind of hard, wouldn't it?

Well, I guess, I'd better start practicing already.

Mom, I'm not quite ready for an audience.

Oh, sorry.

I'll wait till the concert.

Recital.

What's wrong with the word "concert," Clarissa?

Well, a concert is big and scary.

A recital is intimate and manageable.

I'm playing in a recital.

Just let me know if you need anything.

I will.

Oof.

Madame Ziniazanza.

I better work hard if I want to impress her.

Do I want to impress her?

Well, I'd better work hard.

[playing gentle flute music]

[ladder bangs]

Hi, Sam.

[twangy guitar chord]

Hey, Clarissa.

What's wrong?

You don't look too glad to see me.

It's not you, Sam, it's Madame Ziniazanza.

Is she here?

Funny.

Is this a bad time?

You told me to come over later, and this is later.

I haven't even started practicing.

Then I better go.

You know, everyone's talking about this concert.

Recital.

Whatever.

It's the biggest thing

since Weird Al played at the school.

Everyone's talking about it, like everybody-everybody?

Everybody.

You better practice.

See you, Clarissa.

Thanks, Sam. I'll call you later.

Gee, I hadn't planned on being such a hot ticket.

Still, I can see it now:

me, my flute, and my adoring public.

[playing spirited flute music]

♪

[cheers and applause]

Okay, one more time.

[drum roll]

[disjointed flute music]

[disjointed flute music]

Forget about the encore.

Forget about memorizing.

First, I have to remember how to play.

[disjointed flute music]

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

[disjointed flute music]

This is ridiculous.

The recital is in two days.

It's a piece I know I can play, but every time I try,

all that comes out is...

[disjointed flute music]

And the pressure is building like nobody's business.

Dad's already invited everyone I've ever known since preschool

plus everyone he's ever known since preschool.

And if that's not enough pressure,

my Mom has opened up a savings account

to make a down payment for master lessons

with that Madame Ziniazanza, if she accepts me as a student.

Meanwhile, I haven't even made it through the solo once.

[ladder bangs]

Hi, Sam.

[twangy guitar chord]

Hi, Clarissa, I hope I'm not interrupting.

Nothing to interrupt.

You still can't play?

It's like trying to lift a -ton boulder with my breath.

And it's not like I haven't been trying.

I've been here for hours.

I mean, look at my hands.

What's the problem?

I can't seem to get my fingers unfrozen.

I think it's all the pressure.

Well, I guess it wouldn't be a great time

to have more then, but...

But what?

My dad told me that the guy who reviews

for the local entertainment section

is reviewing the concert-- sorry, recital.

Great.

Is there anything I can do to help?

Sure, just break both my arms and tell Mrs. Doppeldew

I fell out the window.

Okay, I can't ask you to lie.

Just push me!

So what do you think the problem is?

Simple, Sam, I must have been in the zone,

and now I've fallen out of it.

You were in the zone?

That's what made you play so well?

I can't think of any other explanation.

My brain just went to that one place

where I couldn't seem to make a mistake.

So that's where you were that day

I came in while you were playing.

You didn't even know I was there.

I guess I was.

First, I got good, then I got bad,

I could play, and now I'm played out.

Happened to me one weekend with foosball.

I couldn't miss.

One weekend? Never again?

Not like that.

My dad says he sees it in athletes all the time.

Too bad.

Too bad what?

It's just something uncontrollable, isn't it?

I mean, you just have to wait until you get there again.

Oh, Sam, I don't have time to wait for an invitation

from the zone.

In two days, I have to give a concert.

Recital.

See how it's getting to me?

What can you do?

I don't know, but there must be a way.

If the zone won't come to me, then I'll come to the zone.

Hi, Dad.

Hey, sport.

What you doing?

Oh, you know that Sneakers To Go store?

Well, it needs more space, so I'm designing the left shoe.

What are you gonna do if they need to expand again?

I'll put a pump on it.

So what do you need?

Actually, Dad, I was just wondering--

Red alert! Red alert!

Evacuate immediately!

What are you talking about?

I just did an electromagnetic reading

on the Soapersteins,

and they are inches away from total EMF meltdown.

Well, what exactly does that mean, Ferguson?

It means head for the hills. Property values are plummeting.

Ferguson, I just got a call from Edna Soaperstein,

and she's very upset. What did you tell her?

Exactly what she needed to know, Mom.

Her EMF levels are beyond toxic.

All they got to do is flip on their hair dryer

and it could vaporize the neighborhood.

She's called everyone on the block.

They're all in a panic.

No one should fear the truth, Mom.

Are you sure you're operating that device correctly?

Yeah, let me go check dad's lamp.

Whoa! It's !

Dad, you're frying before our very eyes.

I thought my hands felt a little tingly.

Well, it would be

if it wasn't for this little tiny decimal point right here.

.?

That's in the safe range.

Yeah, probably just writer's cramp.

Nice move, Mr. Edison.

Come on, Ferguson.

Where are we going?

We're going back to the Soapersteins'

to straighten this out right now.

Aw, Mom.

If he ever masters the higher brain functions,

he could be dangerous.

So what did you need, sport?

You got any old incense lying around?

Incense?

Oh, gee, I'm not sure.

I've got a bunch of junk here in the cabinets.

There might be some, but I doubt it.

Why do you need incense for?

Well, I was just practicing the flute,

and I was having a little trouble concentrating.

Uh-huh.

So what's the incense supposed to do?

Well, I thought maybe it would help me

get back into the zone.

Oh, the zone.

I hit the zone once back in '.

Wow, Dad, what was your calling,

music, poetry?

Stamping.Stamping?

Stamping. Canned goods. The grocery store.

Yeah, it was just another summer job, or so I thought.

I was in charge of stamping all the prices

on all the stuff.

That's when you hit your zone?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I was just stamping away, you know,

cents, cents, cents,

when all of a sudden, whammo!

I hit a bean-and-bacon soup can right in the middle.

Really?Yeah, I mean, dead center.

And then I did it again and again and again.

I couldn't stop.

I was a -cent stamping machine.

I nailed every can in that place.

Oh, it felt great.

Then what happened?

I got fired.

What for?

Well, you know,

I had labeled everything cents.

Boss lost a fortune.

And I never found my way back to the zone again.

Well, I don't think

there's any incense in here, sport.

You can go check the attic, if you want.

No, thanks.

I think I'm gonna try something else.

Good luck.Luck?

Dad, luck's the last thing I'm relying on.

If I want to get back into the zone,

I'm gonna have to take the scientific approach.

Okay, only one more day till the performance,

and it looks it's time for me to take the clinical approach.

I've isolated all the major elements.

Now I'm ready to compare and contrast

the three known zone experiences.

Theoretically speaking,

there should be one common thread

that unites them all.

First,

Sam's unexplained foosball phenomenon.

Location: the Y.

Environment: intense competition.

Atmospheric conditions: smell of sweat socks.

Case number two,

Marshall Darling and his stamping stampede.

Location: the grocery store.

Environment: minimum wage.

Atmospheric conditions: inky.

Case number three,

my fleeting flute ability.

Location: music class.

Environment: fifth period.

Atmospheric conditions: harmonious.

What do these three zoning experiences

have in common?

Nothing.

Science is a big fat bust.

They can put a man on the moon,

but they can't get me out on a school auditorium stage.

[ladder bangs]

Hi, Sam.

[twangy guitar chord]

Hey, Clarissa.

How's the scientific approach to zoning?

Well, I'm still collating data,

and the results are inconclusive.

Which means?

I'm getting nowhere.

I might as well just go and get this over with

so everyone could forget it.

That could happen

if there's a fire in the school library.

What do you mean?

You know Dennis Kruegtrodder?

The audiovisual nerd?

Sam, he's not...

He is videotaping the whole recital

for posterity in the school library.

You'll be immortalized.

Oh, no.

That's just great.

Now anytime anyone has a free period,

they can just take me out of the library stacks,

cram me into a VCR,

and watch me over and over and over again.

Talk about eternal embarrassment.

I've got an idea.

Let's go for a walk.

What? Sam, now?

Hey, it'll help you clear your head.

You've been cooped up in here too long to find your zone.

Well...

The great outdoors have inspired artists

for generations:

Thoreau, Van Gogh...

Rambo. [g*nf*re]

Well, I guess it's worth a sh*t,

but I'm taking my flute with me.

Who knows?

Maybe a little bit of fresh air will make

finding my zone a breeze.

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

.......

All right!

invoices, neighbors, multiplied by bucks apiece.

Looks like Mr. Ben Franklin is coming to our house.

Ferg-face, what are you doing?

Hey!

"Congratulations.

"Your home has been registered EMF-free

"by a nearly certified

"electromagnetic particle wave technician."

And that's you?

That's me.

Hey, somebody had to do it.Do what?

You mean you actually went to every house on this block

with Mom's electromagnetic thingy?

Oh, I was much more comprehensive than that.

I did a sweep from the backyard.

I saved the neighborhood.

Now, tell me that isn't worth bucks.

Come on, Sam.

Let's go find a Ferg-free zone.

Well, getting out of the house

didn't get me out of my flute problem.

I tried looking for inspiration

in a bunch of different locations,

but everything was just a little off-key.

First, I got my act together and took it on the road.

Well, the front yard, anyway.

I found a face full of nature but no zone.

Ah! The sprinkler!

Sprinkler! Come on! Aah!

So then I went further to find my zone in the park.

I didn't hit a single high note...

But I did make cents, so it wasn't a total loss.

Finally, I gave up on nature and went to the auditorium,

what was to be the scene of my public humiliation

in less than hours.

I got through my song.

It even turns out I've got a fan,

sort of.

Hey, if you like flute-playing,

you ought to come by tomorrow.

There's a girl about your age supposed to be playing...

and I hear she's really good.

Yeah, he hears I'm good till he hears me play.

[ladder bangs]

Hi, Sam.

[twangy guitar chord]

Hey, Clarissa.

Sounds kind of quiet up here.

Yeah. Too quiet.

Nothing worked, Sam, nothing.

I know there's a way back into the zone.

I just have to find it.

Clarissa, we've tried everything.

I know. It's been awful.

I can't even look at this thing anymore.

I used to have so much fun just playing.

Those were the days.

Well, day, actually.

So what was different about that day?

Well, nobody had any expectations,

and I didn't have any expectations.

I just hit the zone, and I was terrific.

You know, even when you're not in the zone,

you're pretty good.

Well, I want to be as good as I can be.

Who doesn't?

But maybe it isn't realistic to think

I'll always be in the zone.

I mean, Michael Jordan probably has his off days

but he still suits up, right?

Yeah.

So what if I do mess up, so what?

Who cares?

What are they gonna do, sh**t me?

I don't think anyone's gonna sh**t you, Clarissa.

And forget about this pressure from my parents,

and Madame Ziniazanza,

and Dennis Kruegtrodder on his video recorder.

I don't care about the zone.

I'm not playing for anybody.

You mean you're not gonna do it?

No.

I mean, I'm not playing for anybody but me.

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

Clarissa, we were very proud of you tonight.

Didn't you enjoy watching your sister play?

Well, I would have

if I didn't have to go around the whole auditorium

apologizing to our neighbors all night.

Sending bills to our neighbors.

Hey, it's time they learn

that public service has a price.

You know, watching you up there really gave me a thrill, sport.

Really, Dad?Yeah.

But it made me think about being a drummer again.

Oh, Marshall,

you don't really think you're cut out

for the rock 'n' roll lifestyle, do you?

Well, no, we could do it all together,

I mean, the whole Darling family.

We could buy a van, make some costumes,

hit the road.

Thanks, Dad, but I don't think

I'm ready to hit the road anytime soon.

You're not thinking of giving up the flute, are you?

No, but from now on, I'm just gonna play for myself.

If the zone wants to find me, it knows where I am.

[upbeat music]

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa

♪ Na-na na-na na naa

♪ Na na-na na naa