Wilder and Wilder

It’s a Beef Butt Roast; or

Almanzo Furioso

(a recap by Will Kaiser)

Title: Wilder and Wilder

Airdate: February 11, 1980

Written by John T. Dugan

Directed by Maury Dexter

SUMMARY IN A NUTSHELL: Half the town goes sex-crazy when Almanzo’s puke of a little brother comes to visit and a new student matriculates.

(Zero mention of the ol’ Blind School Fire. ZERO.)

RECAP: We open this week on a nice image of the Little House.

One might think we’d continue the narrative/emotional arc from “‘May We Make Them Proud.’”  I thought it myself.

But if you’re like me, your dream will die when David Rose brings in “Cutesy-Poo Recess” – a silly, completely un-tragic tune once often heard on the show, but which has been MIA, as the expression goes, since Season Four. (The rhythm is suggestive of “I’ve Got No Strings” from Pinocchio.)

This time “Cutesy-Poo” is played on the harpsichord. That instrument always seems a bit strange on this show, but it’s all good. If there’s anything the Walnut Groovy Project has set about to prove, it’s that nothing’s too weird to incorporate into the Little House on the Prairie Universe. Including the harpsichord.

Despite displaying zero interest in the doghouse Albert built for him in “Silent Promises” in one of the series’ stupidest-ever subplots, Bandit is now lounging in it.

WILL: Landon must have wanted to get his money’s worth out of that doghouse prop.

Carrie comes outside and yells that she now has squatter’s rights to the doghouse.

AMELIA: God, Carrie. . . .

WILL: Oh shoosh. I like Carrie.

Carrie runs to the privy as David switches to an ecstatic if pompous processional in the orchestra. (“Poop and Circumstance” March #1?)

It’s a breezy day, but there are no other portents of certain doom, which is what wind usually prefigures on this show.

Despite the windgusts, the day looks warm and green . . . spring of 1883-M, I’d say? (Six months or so after the fire?)

The “Cutesy-Poo” tune gets a reprise then.

WILL: I think that’s somebody whistling over the melody.

DAGNY: I’m not sure about that. It’s too clear.

WILL: Well, it’s a professional. Probably David Rose himself.

Inside, the whole family is bustling about. (I mean, not Baby Adam, of course! Ha ha! Ha ha ha!)

I know, far too soon for that. Pa asks Albert to muck the auld byre, then Laura starts blabbing about a “new colt” Almanzo has bought.

She starts to tell him all about the animal, named “Barnum” (as in P.T., the circusmaster whose fame was nearing its peak in the early 1880s). 

Barnum is apparently a runaway that Almanzo intends to race a week hence, provided he’s able to “break” the horse – in other words, teach it to be accustomed to a rider or driver. (The sources I reviewed suggest breaking a horse usually takes between four weeks and six months. I don’t remember if they covered the topic in Blaze – The Magazine for Horse-Crazy Kids when we had a subscription.)

We have seen a horse-breaking on this show once before. 

The horse got broken in . . . but so did the break-er’s face.

Anyways, Pa interrupts Laura to say he doesn’t give a shit about Almanzo. (A paraphrase, but not much of one.)

WILL [as PA]: “Speaking on behalf of the audience . . .”

As if that wasn’t obnoxious enough, Pa adds “Have a nice day!” before he departs.

DAGNY: I remember this one. It’s part of Laura saying goodbye to Pa. I remember being really frustrated as a kid that they had her go directly from one man to another instead of developing on her own like Anne of Green Gables.

At this point, reader, we paused for an extended discussion of whether Laura or Anne is the superior character. 

I know that sensitivities exist between the two fandoms, and since I’d hate to incite a riot, I’m not going to tell you where the conversation went or what the verdict was. 

I will tell you that at one point Dagny noted Neve Campbell is now old enough to play Marilla Cuthbert in a new production, which made us feel old. 

Then we realized we’re also old enough to play Marilla, which made us feel even older.

Anyways, Laura asks Ma if she can go watch the horse-training; but Ma says she’ll have to ask Pa about that.

WILL: What? Why? Does Ma need his permission to give Laura permission? She’s got such a stick up her ass sometimes.

AMELIA: She’s not doing anything wrong here, Dad. She knows Pa doesn’t like Manly, and saying yes would create a headache for everybody down the road, so she’s saying go deal with the problem at the source. I don’t know why you say she’s got a stick up her ass for that.

WILL: All right, all right, I was wrong.

(I’m still gonna tag it for Pa-triarchy and Sexism, but Mimi’s point is fair.)

Well, Laura glumly exits as “Laura and Almanzo’s Ooey Gooey Love Theme” (thanks, jtoddward) bubbles up like crude oil on the soundtrack.

Next we see Charles and Big Jon Garvey putting up a fence. 

DAGNY: Big Jon’s pants don’t leave much to the imagination today.

Charles says once the task is done, they’ll be able to “start spring plantin’.” (See, spring! I hate to be immodest, but have I ever gotten the timeline wrong?)

“I sure hope this weather holds for the Grange picnic next Saturday!” Charles says. (They have a shitload of picnics on this show, don’t they? I’m not sure how or why the Hero Township Grange would be sponsoring this one, but whatever, they are.)

Now we get a controversial exchange. I’m curious what you make of it.

Garvey says he won’t be at the picnic, because – and I’m going to be extra-careful to quote this exactly – “it’s Alice’s mother’s birthday. I promised I’d go over there and see her.”

As many have commented, it’s a puzzling statement, in substance and tone. 

To recap briefly, last time, Alice Garvey was killed in a horrific accident. That story, we judged, was set across several weeks in the fall of 1882. 

(Some will argue that the date on Albert’s adoption paperwork indicates an 1881 setting for “‘May We Make Them Proud.’”)

(However, in between the adoption and the fire, we had honey harvesting in the fall, a summer circus performance, a Halloween party and a summer tent revival, in that order, as well as several other adventures.)

(More importantly, during that time Mary became pregnant and gave birth, with Baby Adam seeming to be approaching one year old when he also sadly perished in the fire.)

(I feel comfortable saying it’s been at least a year since “The Family Tree,” and probably more like nine in Little House Universe Time, or LHUT.)

Before Alice’s death, which I suppose goes without saying, Jonathan Garvey, itching with jealousy after discovering Alice had “been with” another man before their wedding night, traveled to her hometown of Minneapolis to investigate. (A city of decent, hardworking, generous and courageous folk who care about each other, not unlike our Grovesters. The show got that right about Minnesotans.)

Whilst in the metropolis, Jonathan visited Alice’s mother, who was never named – we called her “Madam X” – and we learned that she and her son-in-law had a pleasant, friendly relationship. (I always like it when men get along with their mothers-in-law. I liked both of mine. All three, counting steps.)

So, the strange thing about this is not that he’d go to her birthday party. What’s funny is that there’s no mention of Alice or the tragedy; none whatsoever! In fact, Garvey doesn’t even seem to think of it. He’s just as cheerful as can be.

We didn’t see Alice’s funeral – I’m sure Madam X came – but still, it’s only been about six months tops, and his cheerful laughing manner seems out of place, no matter how much he likes her.

It’s also odd that he describes Minneapolis as being “over there,” when in reality it’s nearly twice as far away as Mankato – probably a journey of close to a week one-way.

Stranger still, he says “I told Alice’s mother I’d go over there” (italics mine), and we will see that he doesn’t take Andy with him! That seems damned weird, especially compared to Charles, who often takes his kids along (sometimes unwillingly) on journeys short and long.

WILL: What do you make of this?

DAGNY: I don’t think it’s weird that he’s going. He liked the mom, it’s the first time Alice won’t be there for her birthday, there are multiple reasons. 

DAGNY: It is a little weird that he’s not taking Andy.

AMELIA: But somebody would have to mind the farm. One would have to go, and one would have to stay.

WILL: It’s close to a week’s drive to Minneapolis. You’re telling me he would leave Andy to run the farm alone for two weeks? To go to Alice’s mom’s birthday party?

DAGNY: He took the train. 

DAGNY: He’ll have a nice little weekend on the town. He’ll probably go back to that cute little bar.

WILL: Yeah. Wait . . . oh my God, he’ll have to tell Harold that ALICE IS DEAD!

DAGNY: Actually, I think it would be more believable if he had just sent Andy alone. He’s old enough.

AMELIA: Of course, maybe he was lying about where he was going and he was actually shacking up with a saloon girl.

DAGNY: Yeah. What was the name of that one with the bird on her head?

WILL: . . .  Puppa-Paw? 

DAGNY: This is a nice place to pause, though.

WILL: Why?

DAGNY: Garvey’s butt.

WILL: Now, would you call that a bubble butt?

DAGNY: I don’t know. Joshua Jackson from Doctor Odyssey has a bubble butt. 

DAGNY: But Merlin Olsen has more of a beefy butt. It’s like a roast. It’s a beef butt roast!

DAGNY: It’s overdue that we do an analysis of men’s butts on the show. Everyone talks about Charles and Garvey and Manly, but what about the others?

WILL: Like Adam?

DAGNY: Well, Adam doesn’t have a butt. At least, I’ve never noticed it . . . which means he doesn’t have one.

DAGNY: But don’t be ageist! How about Aldi, Nels, Mr. Hanson, Doc?

WILL: . . . Mr. Hanson?

All right, here we go. I submit the following exhibits.

(Mr. Hanson, you’ll recall, was something of an ass-man himself.)

AMELIA: Well, that’s a pretty underwhelming field generally. I think I’d say it’s a tie between Charles and Joe Kagan.

I reached out to Olive at university in Chicago for her opinion too.

OLIVE: Garvey for sure. No question. He’s got a football butt. Those are the best.

I’m not gonna go through all the guest cast, but I’ll just remind you of this, perhaps the GOAT of Little House butt incidents.

(Well, maybe GOAT isn’t the best choice of words.)

Anyways, the real reason for Garvey to go out of town is that he’s normally the winner of the arm-wrestling contest at such picnics.

Charles smiles and says maybe he’ll win it this year, but Garvey hilariously says it’ll probably be a “young bull like that Almanzo Wilder.” (We shall see this story has echoes of “Founder’s Day,” with its battle royale between Pa and Jim “Bull of the Woods” Tyler. Italics mine.)

As you might guess, Charles isn’t thrilled to hear Almanzo’s name again. (This episode is rather funny.)

Well, speaking of Almanzo, Laura now comes stomping out of the bushes.

She asks if she can go watch the horse-breakin’, but admits she hasn’t done all her chores, so Pa has a reason to say no, or an excuse to.

“Hi there!” shouts a loud, corny, old-timey man’s voice (as much as you can determine corniness and old-timeyness from two syllables, that is).

A skinny young blond man in a newsboy cap appears.

AMELIA: Where did he materialize from? They’re in the middle of a field.

The man introduces himself as Perley Day Wilder, the youngest sibling of Almanzo and Eliza Jane.

DAGNY [snorting]: I forgot his name was “Perley Day.” . . .

You know, I also remember thinking “Perley Day” was the funniest man’s name I’d ever heard the first time I watched this one. (I mean, certainly no offense to all the Perley Days out there reading this right now. And I have heard funnier names since.)

Now, I know many of you are Bonnetheads good and true who know all about Perley Day Wilder already, but it wasn’t until embarking upon this Project that I learned he was a real person.

We’ll get into the historical Perley Day Wilder in a bit. This Perley Day, as I said, speaks with a sort of vaudeville performer’s old-timey accent.

He actually talks a bit like the creepy fake-Irish balloonist Cass McCray in “‘Meet Me at the Fair,’” minus the innuendo.

Well, Perley Day is looking for directions to the Wilder Farm, so Laura volunteers to take him.

Rolling his eyes at her incessant idiocy, Pa gives in.

“I couldn’t think of a prettier guide!” Perley Day says slimiliy in his phony-baloney voice.

As they walk off, Pa and Garvey speculate about Perley Day’s age, guessing late teens.

Next we see Almanzo attempting to break Barnum for buggy-driving.

Barnum, we see, is hardly a “colt” but rather a large Chonky-model carthorse.

AMELIA: That horse is amazing!

The horse actor doesn’t get a credit, but he should, as he is indeed amazing, jumping and stomping and giving other indications of unhappiness with this exercise.

David Rose accompanies this with a rather drunken-sounding variation on “Ooey Gooey” that morphs into spirited running music when the horse suddenly bolts. (I feel I recognize the S-ed R-ing music from somewhere. A David Rose original, previously heard on this show? Some “classical pops” tune, the sort of stuff they might have used for Fantasia, but didn’t? I’m not sure. Anybody recognize it? I am fiftysomething these days, and my brain is becoming ricotta cheese.)

Zaldamo screams and screams – all very comical and lighthearted, compared to last week’s screaming anyways. (Then again, “Whisper Country” was comical and lighthearted compared to last week’s screaming.)

As Laura and Perley Day near the road, the buggy careens by. “Manzo!” Perley Day calls.

Zaldamo hangs his head out the driver’s side window, or rather hangs it out the place where the driver’s side window would be if there were one, and screams, “Perley Day, what are you doin’ here!”

DAGNY: He’s gonna Hereditary himself.

Zaldamo yells that he’ll see Perley Day later, and resumes yelling “Whoa!” (We notice they’ve turned the brim on his hat up, always an indicator on this show that something funny for the kids is happening, or is supposed to be happening.)

(This story does feature Dean Butler’s best performance so far, I think.)

Laura and Perley Day laugh together about what a dumbass Zaldamo is, and follow him.

Soon everyone’s back at the Wilder Farm, which, you’ll recall, isn’t very far from the Little House.

Manly and Perley Day greet each other affectionately.

Manly asks about their parents, and Perley reports he “just came from Spring Valley,” and they’re quite well.

So, as I said when he was introduced, Almanzo Wilder was born in New York State, but when he was a teenager his family moved to Spring Valley, a southeast Minnesota town about 200 miles from Walnut Grove.

Almanzo had five siblings, three of whom (Eliza Jane, Perley Day, and Royal) we’ll meet on this series. (Perley Day was a baby when the Wilders came to Minnesota.)

There’s a wonderful portrait of Almanzo and his family out there.

When he grew up, Perley Wilder did in fact come to visit Almanzo once after he moved away, but it wasn’t in Walnut Grove, since the historical AW never lived there himself. (For anyone just joining, this show takes some liberties with history.)

Almanzo and Laura actually met in De Smet, Dakota Territory, which some say is the real-life inspiration for Winoka, and that’s where Perley visited them.

This was in 1889, when Perley was twenty; but unlike what’s suggested by this show, he was actually younger than Laura, who was 22 by that time and had already been married to Almanzo for four years.

Anyways, Almanzo gives a little brotherly smirk and says Perley Day probably lost all his money again, which P. Day denies.

DAGNY: He looks like a young Max Raabe.

He does, but he’s actually played by another performer with cabaret ties named Charles Bloom, who made a string of TV appearances in the 1970s and 1980s. (The ABC After School Special, Battlestar Galactica, Quincy and Mork & Mindy as well as The Kid with the 200 I.Q. with Gary Coleman. That last one also featured Dean Butler.)

Bloom went on to become a successful songwriter and composer, penning several musicals as well as cabaret songs performed by Patty LuPone and Mandy Patinkin. (The latter performer being a Kaiser Family Favorite.)

Bloom’s stuff sounds campy and fun.

(And as long as we’re on the subject of Mandy Patinkin, here he is doing “Coffee in a Cardboard Cup” on Evening at Pops: )

(That song’s not by Charles Bloom, of course . . . but be honest, you don’t regret watching it.)

Well, Perley Day says he’s come from “working those oilfields back in Pennsylvania” (this doesn’t seem to have any basis in historical reality), so he’s got money, but he laughs that he has lost a little at cards.

DAGNY: They do look like brothers.

WILL: Yeah. But Eliza Jane looks like she’s from Pluto compared to them.

AMELIA: Well, she looks like she’s from Pluto compared to most people.

Speaking of Eliza Jane, abracadabra, she appears.

They also hug fondly and laugh. Perley’s artificial manner seems to dissolve when he’s with his siblings.

Eliza Jane’s doesn’t, though.

She mock-scolds P. Day, saying “we haven’t seen you in over a year.” (I have it as about nine years LHUT since the Wilders came to Groveland, but if there have been previous P. Day visits, they were untelevised.)

P. says he walked from Springfield and is free to hang around as long as they wish.

Laura asks Manly if she can join him for Barnum’s training, but he pisses her off by saying it’s “too dangerous for a little girl.”

Annoyed, Laura gives him another variation on her “I’m a woman” speech.

Zaldamo says haw haw, no you’re not, adding, “women should stay in the kitchen – leave men to do the horse-trainin’.”

AMELIA: What did he say?

WILL: You know, the deeper we get into these Almanzo stories, the less I think you’re gonna like him.

DAGNY: Yeah, Almanzo sucks.

WILL: He’s got issues. So does Adam, though – you know, uptight, afraid of water, doesn’t plan for emergencies. . . .

DAGNY: Yeah, and he can be snide and get on his high horse. He has kind of a privileged man attitude at times.

WILL: Well, he did grow up rich.

DAGNY: Oh yeah, that’s right.

Enraged, Laura jumps into Zaldamo’s buggy and takes off.

AMELIA: Didn’t they hang people for stealing horses in those days?

WILL: Yes, they did. But she’s gotten away with it before. A recidivist.

Manly reacts with fairly unmanly shock.

AMELIA: JAZZ HANDS!!!

Goofing around with the brim of his hat again, Almanzo races after her on foot.

Well, of course Laura tames the wild creature.

WILL: Laura is good with horses.

DAGNY: It’s true. That’s surprising, since she only had one herself for about ten minutes before killing it.

Almanzo admits he’s impressed. 

He even says “Jerusalem crickets!” (The Jerusalem cricket is a real creature like some giant ant, but if the phrase was ever used as a minced oath before John T. Dugan got hold of it, I don’t know.)

Laura says horse training requires “a gentle touch, a woman’s hands.”

WILL [as THE POINTER SISTERS]: I want a man with a sloooow hand/I want a lover with an easy touch. . . .

Laura says she’ll teach Manly a thing or two, and invites him into her, uh, buggy. 

AMELIA: This is gonna get gross, isn’t it.

Yes, but not quite yet, since we cut to a church service.

They’ve been taking a breather from painting the buckboard wheels this season, but today they have done them. Looks nice.

Good turnout today, including the Ingallses, the Olesons, Aldi of course, Doc, J.C. Fusspot and his Visiting Sister, Not-Linda Hunt, the Smallest Nondescript Helen of Them All, Not-Art Garfunkel, the Blond Kid Who Looks Like a Weeble, the Unknown Grovester, a man who looks like he might have once been a publican in Ireland or somewhere, Mrs. Dorfler (!), an unknown bored-looking boy with a bowl cut, Prototype Shannen Doherty, the Girl with Hair of Deepest Auburn, the Girl Who Dresses Sort of Like Heidi, and a little boy who I thought might be the kid from (the grossly underrated) Just the Ten of Us. But he probably would have been younger than this in 1980. 

Andrew Garvey is also there, alone. (See? Weird.) 

The Wilders, interestingly, are also at today’s service. Not to sound like one of my smalltown aunties, but I’ve actually never seen them at church before this.

There’s also a new family – looks like two parents and a girl – but we’ll get to them in the next paragraph.

Reverend Alden gives a special welcome to Perley Day, then introduces the new family as “Mr. and Mrs. Parker and their daughter Penelope.”

Mr. Parker looks like Doc Holliday, and his wife looks thin and stiff and pretty. (She’s Kay Howell, who was also on CHiPs and Dallas, and whom we’ll meet again later.)

The daughter, a blonde with lots of makeup, looks like trouble.

For we see she’s already making eyes at the boys across the aisle – especially Andy. (On an unrelated note, I wonder whose idea it was to return to the Season One and Two alliterative naming convention for schoolyard-crush stories.)

Aldi closes the service by announcing “good old ‘Bringing in the Sheaves’!”

Speaking of races, you may remember that “Bringing in the Sheaves” has been engaged in a neck-and-neck contest with “Onward Christian Soldiers” for most-performed hymn on the show.  This ties it up!

I like “Onward Christian Soldiers” and think it’s probably musically superior, at least if we’re grading for poop and circumstance. (It was written by Sir Arthur Sullivan, after all.) 

That said, “good old” “Bringing in the Sheaves” seems a better fit for this agrarian and peace-loving-if-frequently-troubled community, and is the hymn I always associate with the show; so I hope on the last day (of Walnut Groovy, I mean, not the world) it emerges the winner. (And I hope you stay tuned to find out!)

The Wilders all sing with enthusiasm.

But Penelope Parker doesn’t even pretend to be singing, she’s so interested in staring at Andy.

Albert and Willie aren’t singing either, because they’re so interested in staring at Penelope.

Next we hear some mock-Copland roustabout-type music as we see a sack of grain (or sawdust, or whatever) being lifted by a pulley in the barn at night.

However, when Ma goes out there, she sees the rig has nothing to do with farmwork, but rather it’s a weightlifting system Pa has set up so he can train to face Almanzo in the arm-wrestling contest.

Not realizing Ma is standing behind him, Pa is actually taunting Almanzo out loud as he works out.

Ma surprises him, and he starts huffing with embarrassment. “You could have ripped my arm off!” he says. 

Ma laughs and says there’s coffee in the house for him and his “friend” if they want some. (This whole scene is quite funny.)

Next we see Willie Oleson bolting from the school privy into class. (I’m not sure, but I think this is the first time we’ve had a Carrie privy visit and a Willie privy visit in a single story. But clearly they’re pulling out the stops, as it were, as we near the season finale.)

WILL: Look at Mr. Edwards’s old cabin. Laura painted it pink. What did they do, strip it?

DAGNY: Yeah, they wouldn’t do that. It would just peel gradually and look like shit for years.

“Willie, you’re late,” Eliza Jane says.

“I know,” Willie smiles.

“You will remain after class,” she adds.

“I know,” Willie smiles.

Eliza Jane has just finished Penelope Parker’s admissions ritual, though since we don’t get to see what it comprises, we can’t tell if it’s as grueling as the Bead’s used to be. (My guess is it isn’t.)

Albert tries to elbow Laura out of her seat to make room for Penelope, but Laura won’t have that, so the newcomer sits next to Andrew Garvey.

Penelope stares droolingly at him, whilst Willie stares droolingly at her.

Andy thumbs through his McGuffey, oblivious to or uninterested in Penelope’s leers.

At recess, Albert stares thirstily at Penelope, but she’s too occupied with staring thirstily at Andy to notice.

Alb turns to And and says, “Andy, you’re my best friend, aren’t you?”

WILL [as VICKI LAWRENCE]: . . . Said I’m your best friend and you know that’s right/But your young bride ain’t home tonight. . . .

DAGNY: We haven’t had a good Vicki Lawrence reference in a while.

Quite civilly, Albert asks if Andy has designs on Penelope, and when he says he hasn’t, Alb asks him to give him a reference. (Why? Andy hasn’t even spoken to her yet.)

Albert says he likes Penelope “a lot – an awful lot,” which seems ridiculous since it’s her first day, but I remember being a kid and will allow it.

Quite improbably, Andy agrees to act as love agent for Alb and crosses the schoolyard.

“Hello there, Andrew,” Penelope says, in what has to be the most exaggerated fake Southern accent we’ve ever heard on this show, and we’ve heard a few.

(Penelope is Stacy Sipes, who also appeared on an episode of Eight is Enough. I wasn’t able to find any good non-Little House pictures of her, not that I could verify, anyways.)

“I’ve gotta tell ya somethin’,” Andy says, and Penelope goes “REALLY?” in this strangely emphatic way.

Andy launches into his pitch, but Penelope dismisses Albert as “just a child” – an odd opinion to form as she’s never met him, unless it was in an untelevised adventure. 

Besides, Patrick Labyorteaux is only a year older than Matthew . . . but of course we did determine Albert the character is perpetually ten years old, so maybe that explains her view. (See Albert’s Age.)

Then Penelope goes, “Why don’t ya speak for ya-self, ANDREW???” (I’m sorry, I get a kick out of how she talks. My sister Peggy and I used to tape-record ourselves doing “radio shows” as little kids, and she always loved doing Southern characters. This is what she sounded like.)

Andy says, “About what?” and Penelope goes, “About how you feel.”

“Well, I feel okay now,” Andy says pleasantly.

DAGNY [as ANDY]: “When my ma burned to death, I was real sad, but I’m better now.”

WILL: Yeah. [as ANDY:] “Not as sad as Albert, though, since he murdered her.”

But Andy is referring to diarrhea he got (paraphrase) from the spicy chili Jonathan made this week. (Alice’s recipe, no doubt!)

Very forwardly, Penelope then makes exactly the same pass that Amy Phillips Sawyer made at Charles when they went riding at The Willows.

DAGNY: Oh my God, she’s practically shoving his hand down her shirt. 

(Maybe there was an article in a ladies’ magazine at the time suggesting this as a seduction technique.)

Albert sees this and rises angrily.

When Andy comes back, Albert screams “Judas!” and attacks him.

DAGNY: Oh, now is he gonna try to kill Andy’s dad too?

Others have pointed out, quite rightly, that one of the weirdest things about this story is how quickly and completely Andy has forgotten about the role Albert played in Alice Garvey’s death. It’s not that it’s impossible, and as I say it’s probably been six months, so the two boys have likely had plenty of time to “process” and heal from the event. But no question it’s jarring that Alice’s death doesn’t seem to be on either kid’s mind in this, the very next episode, especially when the lads are in conflict with one another, as we see here.

In fact, reader Leslie summed it up quite well:

sigh . . . We are to assume that Albert and Andy were friends. But aside from Lake Kezia and the letter pick-up adventure in Sleepy Eye I can’t really see any evidence of this. Instead of a storyline of Jonathan Garvey’s drinking to cope [in “‘May We Make Them Proud’”], wouldn’t it have been more interesting to deal with Andy’s feelings? And his anger at learning about Albert’s involvement? They could have brought him to look for Albert and let him beat the snot out of him before giving Andy the “make them proud” speech. Then they could have hugged it out. . . . For as interesting a character as Andy used to be (and could have been), they really missed out on potential with him. And he’s pretty much done now. Sad.

Our panel agreed.

DAGNY: That is a major gap. It should have been its own episode.

WILL: Yeah. They could have made the Blind School fire a three-parter.

I don’t think they do any three-parters on this show, but it isn’t impossible. They did one on Doctor Who in 2007 and I thought it worked quite well.

I suppose phasing Andy out (like killing Alice) was Landon’s way of solving the “too many characters” problem successful shows develop, then and now. But it’s not really fair to the character, and Patrick Labyorteaux proved again and again he was up for whatever challenge they threw his way – comedy, tragedy, you name it. Sad indeed.

Well, Laura jumps in and breaks up the boys’ fight. She acts pretty schoolmarmish here, at least compared to the other kids. I suppose it’s meant to be another steppingstone to her becoming a woman. A WOMAN!!!

Albert continues snarling. His attitude in this one is pretty extreme, but it’s not really out of character. We have seen Albert show more interest in romance than you might expect from the average ten-year-old.

“I see the Love Bug’s bitten Brother Albert,” Laura says with amusement. (There’s a lot of talk on the internet that the term “love bug” comes from a species of insect that copulates for days on end, even whilst on the wing.) 

(I find that quite charming; but the biting “love bug” was a metaphor long before the sex-mad creatures got that name, and it was in use by 1883. Apparently it was inspired by germ theory, which as we’ve seen before on this show was catching on at this time!) 

Anyways, the Brothers Labyorteaux are both good in this one, though the substance of their conflict strains credibility. Commercial.

DAGNY: Oh my God, they’re using Ace of Base to market old-people products now?

When we return, we see Doc’s new beau D.L. Dawson is on the porch at Nellie’s again.

Inside, Perley Day is trying to eat one of Nellie’s burnt steaks as she goes over the receipts at the next table.

Nellie turns to stare lasciviously at him. A lot of lascivious staring in this one.

AMELIA: Nellie’s wig looks bad today.

Out of politeness, perhaps, Perley hides his inedible meal in his knapsack. Doesn’t seem like the most hygienic of ideas.

P. Day compliments Nellie’s cooking to the rafters and asks for a coffee refill.

Enamored or at least charmed, Nellie rushes into the kitchen, where we briefly see Mrs. Oleson drying a punchbowl, or something.

The minute his hostess is gone, P. steals a ten-dollar bill (about $320 today) out of her cashbox, and when she comes back he pays with it. (His meal cost $1.50 – close to $50 today. I know he had a steak, but come on, at Nellie’s?)

Perley D. tips her $3.50 (about $112!) and pockets the change.

DAGNY: They’ll figure this out pretty quick, especially since Harriet’s there.

Nellie then asks P. on a date, but he politely declines.

Nellie rushes to tell Harriet Perley complimented her cooking, with the implication Mrs. O drops the punchbowl in shock that anyone would ever do so.

Over at the Feed & Seed, Perley tells “Manzo” that Barnum should be training for the race. 

P. Day then expresses interest in dating Laura. 

DAGNY: What’s with this show today? Everyone’s sex-crazed.

WILL: Well, it is springtime.

“Manzo” goes into his “But Beth’s just a little girl!” routine.

P. notes Laura’s “gonna be sixteen,” and “Manzo” lets him take Laura for a ride in the buggy.

AMELIA: Why is that guy not helping?

DAGNY: He’s playing Wordle.

P. and Laura buzz past the Mercantile, where Ma and Pa are standing on the porch. (No idea where Carrie and Grace are.)

Stupid Chuck says it looks like Laura and Perley Day are a-courtin’, and thank goodness.

Back in the buggy, the (not-a-courtin’) couple pass some sheep. (Hopefully anthrax-free.)

Perley is telling Laura about how he left home at fourteen (this seems not to jibe with his real-life counterpart’s bio) and survived “by his wits.” He doesn’t mention the stealing.

Nevertheless, it’s a pleasant little conversation, especially with Perley D. talking like a normal person rather than a carnival barker.

Out of nowhere, Doc Baker pulls up alongside them in his phaeton. Apparently he’s going to be racing at the picnic too.

P. challenges Doc to a practice race, and Doc accepts, saying all his patients today have boring/disgusting ailments anyways, so why not?

DAGNY: Did they understand ringworm then?

(Seems like they did. It isn’t caused by a worm, but a fungus.)

Perley then bets Doc his remaining five dollars ($160). Kind of steep (Doc says as much), but we know from previous stories that Doc enjoys gambling and playing the stock market, so I think it’s okay.

Well, they take off a-racin’, with David giving us a crazy polka on the soundtrack.

With a series of strange looks on the faces of Laura and P. Day, the show communicates to us that P. is deliberately losing the race. It’s kind of hard to get across in close-ups, but I don’t know how you would do it any better.

When they stop, Perley hands Doc his ill-gotten five.

Perley D. then bets him twenty dollars that Barnum will win the real race, despite Doc protesting that Penelope Parker’s father’s horse is the favorite. (Didn’t they just come to town this week?)

AMELIA: So it’s the same scam as they pulled in that wrestling one.

WILL: Yes! Very good, child.

AMELIA: And how much is twenty dollars?

WILL: Over six hundred bucks.

DAGNY: That seems like a weird bet for Doc. I could see if he bet a peck of apples and a chicken.

As Doc drives off, P. says, “There’s one born every minute” – a saying attributed to P.T. Barnum (very witty, John T.), but which, I was surprised to learn, he actually never said.

Instead, it turns out it came from an early Nineteenth-Century antisemitic joke. (Some things I wish I never learned. It’s been that kind of year.)

That night, the Ingallses enjoy dinner (Baby Grace is in bed), but Albert is mooning over Penelope.

DAGNY: That’s pretty thick milk, eh? Look how it’s sticking to the sides of the glass.

WILL: Must be raw milk.

Albert and Laura bicker a bit, then he asks Pa for a man-to-man talk. (Pa rolls his eyes again at this. Landon is subtle and funny in this one.)

Pa then tells Laura she can invite “Mister Wilder” for dinner one night. That’s a pretty dumb way to put it, and indeed, Laura thinks Almanzo when Pa meant Perley Day.

Outside, turns out Albert wanted to ask Pa about the ladies. 

Pa says he should do something nice for Penelope, then tells some stories about himself and Ma when they were kids. “You and me sure got a lot in common,” Albert says.

WILL [as PA]: “Yeah. In fact, when I was your age, we were virtually identical.”

Pa says Ma didn’t know he was alive until she saw him in a pole-climbing contest.

AMELIA: Pole-climbing, eh?

Apparently he was injured, falling to the ground. “Almost broke my behind,” he says.

AMELIA: Broken behind, eh?

WILL: All right, that’s enough.

The incident, Pa says, finally brought him to the attention of Young Caroline. This contradicts what we saw in “‘I Remember, I Remember,’” in which Ma was clearly the aggressor in the relationship.

But who knows, it may be that they drifted apart after that initial flirtation and only truly connected after the, you know, pole-climbing contest.

Alb’s takeaway from this story is that he should try to impress Penelope by winning the catch-a-pig contest at the picnic.

Well, now it’s the day before the race, and we see Almanzo suggesting Perley Day help him at the Feed & Seed. But Perley objects to honest work.

Instead, he suggests he take Barnum for a run to test his speed, but “Manzo” pooh-poohs this.

P. Day explains he wants to do the speed test so he can figure out how to bet. “I’ve even got a stopwatch,” he says.

AMELIA: Was the stopwatch invented then?

WILL: Yeah. It was invented the same year as ringworm.

AMELIA: It’s uncanny how much they look like real brothers.

Annoyed, “Manzo” says he’s only interested in the fun of the race.

Laura appears then on her way to school. (This tracks with our map.)

Laura ignores Pa’s intent and invites Zaldamo to dinner. 

But Manly says he’s working too hard to be any fun in the evenings.

Dismissively, he suggests she ask P. instead, so she does.

“Perley Day!” Eliza Jane shrieks again as she bursts into the frame. 

EJ doesn’t have much of a part in this one. Nevertheless, like Patrick Labyorteaux, Lucy Lee Flippin doesn’t let that break-a her stride.

Irritated at Manly’s rejection, Laura declines the Wilders’ offer to give her a ride to town.

“Have a nice day!” Eliza Jane calls as they drive off. 

AMELIA: Have a Perley Day!

Once they’ve gone, Perley defies “Manzo” and takes Barnum for a spin himself.

But after a while, Barnum slows to a trot – he’s injured his leg.

After another break, we see him at table with the Ing-Gals and -Guys.

P. has been talking about his life’s history, but Pa is steering the conversation towards love and marriage, with Ma rolling her eyes at him.

AMELIA: They’re funny in this one.

Then the conversation turns to the arm-wrestling, with Perley expressing the opinion you’d have to be crazy to go up against “Manzo.”

Well, sure enough, that night we find Pa weight-training again. And once again, Ma creeps in behind him.

DAGNY: Wow, she looks hot. I bet John Pima plays this scene over and over again.

“Do you mind, Caroline!” Pa huffs. (In my younger days, I used to work out more – well, I mean, up to a point – and my first wife used to stand around critiquing my form whilst I did it, so I can sympathize.)

Back at the Wilder Farm, Perley Day arrives home, and Almanzo springs from behind a Doc-Bakerly green curtain to confront him about Barnum’s injury.

P. Day tries to worm out of it, but “Manzo” snarls that the horse is “out of the race.”

WILL: Well, it was a little ambitious to do both the arm-wrestling AND the horse racing.

DAGNY: Yeah. Did he enter the bake-off too?

“I keep praying you’re gonna change,” “Manzo” says with contempt, and exits.

The next morning, Almanzo and Eliza Jane bring their buckboard round to the front door (from where?).

Perley Day comes out and makes a bitchy speech about how since “Manzo” thinks he’s such a douche, he’s going to stay home from the picnic.

Eliza Jane is confused, though surely she would have been home to hear her brothers’ quarrel last night. (I’m sorry to say this, but we know she didn’t have a date.)

DAGNY: She talks like Glinda. From Wizard of Oz, I mean, not Wicked.

“Manzo” makes a (pretty weak) attempt to deescalate.

P. just pouts . . . but once Almanzo and Eliza Jane have gone, he smirks. Uh-oh.

Then we join the picnic, where the arm-wrestling contest is already in progress.

WILL: I wonder why they aren’t having these events on Founder’s Day?

DAGNY: It’s because Mr. Hanson’s dead. Nobody cares about the founder anymore.

The contest is in the early rounds, but one of the competitors is worth noting: it’s D.L. Dawson, Doc’s new paramour! (This is the first close look we’ve gotten at him. He’s rather good-looking, actually.)

Doc himself is officiating the bout, which would seem a conflict of interest; but I expect the relationship is not generally known in the community yet.

Mr. Dawson is wrestling a guy who looks like he might be Mustache Man’s younger brother. (This idea is borne out when we hear Mustache Man’s voice in the background shouting “Go, Harvey!”)

Harvey loses, and somebody yells to Mr. Dawson, “You got ’em, Ed!” (I know this suggests Dawson’s initials aren’t actually D.L., but I’m sure whoever shouted that was drunk. People start early at such festivals, as anybody who’s attended one will know!)

Doc announces the next matchup: Almanzo versus Nels, of all people. (Doc looks like he’s going to crack up at the thought of Nels arm-wrestling.)

Nels protests he didn’t sign up, but Harriet laughs that she entered him. (Mrs. Oleson entering Nels in contests of strength is an odd thread on this show, but it is funny.)

“Go get him, Nels!” Charles yells. (Also funny.)

Well, Zaldamo beats him immediately.

DAGNY: I like how excited Aldi always gets at the sporting events.

Doc announces that the final matches will be between Charles and Almanzo, and “Ed Nelson and Jack Lilley.”

(Jack Lilley of course we know better as Mustache Man; but despite Mr. Dawson being addressed as “Ed” a moment ago, we know from previous episodes that Ed Nelson is probably Mr. Nelson the Gray-Haired Dude – not seen since “The Fighter” in Season Four.)

But first, oyez, oyez, oyez, the big pig-catchin’ contest!

The “course” for the contest has been arranged with some hay bales. (Others have noted that square hay bales are anachronistic.)

The piglet has been “greased” to make a-catchin’ him more difficult.

AMELIA: What do you think they greased it with?

DAGNY: Bacon fat, ha ha!

AMELIA: That’s not funny. I’m a vegetarian.

The contestants are Albert, Andy, Willie and the Just the Ten of Us Kid.

DAGNY: I don’t approve of this. I think it’s too rough on the pig.

I also think one of the spectators might be Sarah Caulder, the woman who aged fifty years when Walnut Grove briefly became a ghost town. (Glad to see she’s still with us. She looks good, in fact.)

I’ve never seen a contest like this in person, but we have been to some pig races here in Minnesota. They’re fun, I think.

DAGNY: Whose pigs are these? 

WILL: [singing:] Whose pigs are these? Whose pigs are these? They’re Old John Watts’, you can tell ’em by their spots, and we found ’em in the vicarage garden! 

But seriously, whose are they? We know Joe Kagan keeps pigs, but he’s not there. In fact, we’ve not seen him since Jud Lar[r]abee’s trial, which was 22 stories ago.

Well, Albert catches the pig, and proudly carries it over to present it to Penelope, who looks nauseated by the entire enterprise. (Oddly, she was smiling during the actual contest a moment ago.)

With startling rancor, Penelope hollers “You both are pigs!”, at which the pig jumps out of Albert’s arms right onto her.

She screams at him, and Andy wanders up chewing on a piece of watermelon to call her “stuck-up.” 

WILL: I’m not sure that was called for.

“I don’t know what I evah saw in you!” Penelope screams Southernly, and slaps him. 

AMELIA: Whoa. That escalated fast.

Then Andy shoves his slice of watermelon into her face. 

DAGNY: Jesus Christ!

Andy and Albert walk away laughing.

DAGNY: Age-old rule, bros before hoes.

It’s kind of a bizarre, violent scene, but you can tell Stacy Sipes is trying not to laugh, which softens it a bit.

The oddest thing about this whole scene is Rev. Alden is sitting two feet away from them for the entire assault.

Then we see something unexpected: Perley Day is driving Barnum to town . . . for the race.

Bizarrely, he isn’t traveling by road.

Back at the arm-wrestling, Pa and Almanzo’s match is being officiated not by Doc, but by another old friend, Hans “Rubberface” Dorfler!

I had it in my head that we were through with him after “‘Author! Author!’”, but I was wrong. (Thankfully! I’ve always liked him.)

Pa and Zaldamo are pretty evenly matched.

Laura switches off cheering for both of them.

AMELIA: Where are Mary and Adam?

WILL: Where’s Hester-Sue?

For whatever reason, the buggy race is being held simultaneously, which seems weird, especially as Almanzo was supposed to compete in both.

There are only three entrants: Perley Day, Doc, and Mr. Parker. Aldi officiates.

Rev. Alden fires a gun (!), and off they go, west out of town past the Feed & Seed – which is where they’re doing the arm-wrestling.

Noticing his brother, Zaldamo screams, “NO!!!!!”

Dean Butler’s face is, I would say, remarkably emphatic here.

Abandoning the match, mounting a random horse and crying “I’m going to kill Perley Day!”, Almanzo gives chase.

And then Pa and Laura go chasing after him.

The three buggies zoom around the countryside, Mr. Parker slightly ahead and Perley quite a bit behind.

“COME ON, HIPPOCRATES!” Doc screams. See, I said I thought Doc’s horse was named Hippocrates. (Or Hippocampus.)

Similarly, Mr. Parker encourages his own horse, Prince.

Parker is Bill Cross, who was also on CHiPs as well as on The Dukes of Hazzard, Knight Rider, Beverly Hills 90210and Days, and in the movies 48 Hrs., Near Dark and The Positively True Adventures of the Alleged Texas Cheerleader-Murdering Mom. (I remember that last one.)

He also apparently once worked as an assistant to Powers Boothe, Deadwood’s Cy Tolliver.

Along comes Almanzo, gaining fast. (I don’t think it’s really Dean Butler doing the riding, but whoever he is, he’s close enough.)

AMELIA: He should shoot out their wheels.

They pass some random horsepens and (I think) Old Man Brower’s place, which we had previously placed near Lake Ellen, the opposite direction from town. But never mind that.

Then we do get a couple shots of Dean Butler really riding.

Well, “Manzo” overtakes Perley D. and runs him off the road.

He jumps off the horse and slaps its rump strangely.

He looks at Barnum’s leg, then rounds on P. “You could have crippled him,” he says. “Maybe you have.”

Ignoring this, Perley whines, “I bet Doc Baker twenty dollars on that race!”

DAGNY: He’s kind of a Neil Patrick Harris-type.

So “Manzo” decks him. Again, harsh.

“Manzo” then gives him a furious lecture, and we see P. Day is crying, I guess from the pain?

It’s good crying, though.

Then “Manzo” tells P. he’s no longer welcome at their house. This seems a little extreme, or at least un-Little House-y.

Perley Day says fine, he’s going to New Orleans.

He fucks off then, and Pa and Laura arrive, paying no attention to him.

Barnum’s injured leg is swollen, so Pa says he needs treatment. “My place is closest,” he says. (Impossible for a couple different reasons.)

That night, Pa and Almanzo stay up tending the horse, with Laura bringing them coffee periodically.

Pa says Almanzo showed good judgment in quitting the match to attend to the horse, and Almanzo says he wasn’t going to win anyway.

“Yeah, probably,” Pa says with an almost-smirk. “But I still like what you did.”

“Thank you, sir,” says Almanzo, and Pa replies, “You’re welcome, son.”

DAGNY: This story is important because it’s the one where Almanzo and Pa start to get together. This is the bridging story that makes it possible for Laura to start a relationship with him.

Well, the next morning Barnum is fine, and Almanzo embraces Laura with joy.

DAGNY/AMELIA [queasily]: All right, that’s enough, etc.

Pa doesn’t look like he exactly loves this either, but he says nothing.

But before they head in, he tells Almanzo he actually would have lost the match.

WILL: Manly’s kind of a big galoot, isn’t he?

After the young people have gone ahead, Pa puts his arm around Ma and they have a sweet little conversation where he admits he’s starting to feel old.

Voiceover Laura pipes up then, saying:

I don’t know if my dream will ever come true, about Almanzo and me, but I do know right now, the two men I love best in the whole wide world are having breakfast that I cooked for them.

AMELIA: “Right now,” present tense? What the hell? Is this her diary now? I thought it was her remembrance book from many years later?

Bum-Bum-Ba-Dum!

You may wonder what happened to Perley Day Wilder in real life. It’s a strange tale, but as a post scriptum I’ll do it as quick as I can.

Whilst visiting the Wilders, Perley met Laura’s first cousin Peter Ingalls (the son of Charles’s brother Peter and Caroline’s sister Eliza Ann, both of whom we’ve met before on this show). 

In 1890, Peter Junior and Perley traveled to Charles and Caroline’s old stomping grounds in the Big Woods, where they connected with Caroline’s nephew Joseph Quiner Carpenter, and together the three of them sailed down the Mississippi to New Orleans and across the Gulf to Florida on a sailboat called the Edith! (Presumably this explains the New Orleans reference in the script.)

Perley eventually settled in Louisiana, where he got married, had six children, and became a rice farmer. He died in 1934 at the age of 65.

STYLE WATCH:

AMELIA: Laura looks pretty in this one.

DAGNY: Yeah. I love that color on her.

Caroline nicely combines Boobilicious with her gray wool vest.

DAGNY: Seriously, how is that apron of Nellie’s attached?

AMELIA: It’s pretty see-through, too.

Perley Day’s distinctive fuzzy newsboy cap is the same one Tod Dortmunder wore in “The Angry Heart.”

Oddly, he also wears Tod’s shirt. (Not the ripped one, of course.)

But I suppose maybe it’s not so odd. Since we never saw the Davenports and Tod again after their reconciliation, presumably they all died in some tragedy, and Perley Day picked the outfit up from the bargain bin at the Mercantile. (I’m sure Mrs. O makes the rounds to salvage the clothes of deceased Grovesters and sell them at a very reasonable price.)

DAGNY: That’s quite the belt buckle Perley Day has.

DAGNY: Those are kooky patterns Caroline’s wearing. She usually wears either patterned bonnet and solid dress or vice versa.

WILL: Power clash. Very few of us can pull it off.

Charles appears to go commando again. And so does Jonathan Garvey.

THE VERDICT: An enjoyable story that advances the Laura/Almanzo storyline without being too icky about it, “Wilder and Wilder” doesn’t really have much of a plot, but there’s plenty of action and humor, plus strong performances by our principals and Charles Bloom. 

Michael Landon’s performance is unusually subtle. He shines in little moments like the one where Pa jokes about aging, a point that’s key to the story, but which also proves this show doesn’t always deliver its themes like a cudgel over the head.

Special thanks to the team at pioneergirl.com for their wonderful research into the real people who inspired this fantasmagoria of a TV show! It was invaluable this time – as usual!

Bye-bye! Thank you so much for reading – you’re the greatest.

UP NEXT: Second Spring