A Tale of Two Nebraskas

I never thought I'd enjoy an offshoot (Joanie Loves Chachi, the classic blunder and Frasier, who cares?  Phyllis? That's something else) but I have warmed quickly to Better Call Saul. It didn't hurt that in the second episode there was a back-to-back middle-aged bar scene/vomit scene.

Or rather, the date with an age appropriate tiki-drinking woman went sour when a fellow patron began breaking breadstick after breadstick, sending Jimmy McGill (pre-Saul Goodman ) to the toilets. I've always had a hard time understanding the emotional upset leading to stomach upset (though I swear there were some incidents in 2014 that changed my mind a little) but it took reading online comments to understand the connection between the sound of breadsticks snapping with legs being graphically broken earlier in the episode, so I'm truly thick-headed.

I also think I have a bit of a crush on Saul. Scratch that, I mean Jimmy McGill, when the character was still beaten down and struggling but good-hearted. I never had these feelings while watching Breaking Bad. The even sadder sack mustachioed Cinnabon employee flash forward version hiding out in Omaha who comes home to watching videos of himself accompanied by a Rusty Nail (I really want one now, despite never having tasted Drambuie) may have compounded these feelings. I have small town, small dreams fantasies.

Usually, I'm quick to separate character from actor, but it's also possible that I just like Bob Odenkirk. That's an ok thing to admit.

The double Nebraska appearances, make me think a little harder even. This is the post-Breaking Bad home of "Gene" the Cinnabon drone.

This is Bob Odenkirk's character's brother's in Nebraska.  So woody. Very similar (though lower-end) and Oregon childhood-era, to my eyes. And both in black and white.

* * *

As a major aside, Nebraska captured that thing where in the rest of the country men who have handsome potential are paired with women who would have lower social currency in bigger cities. This is my roundabout way of saying that conventionally attractive men in many places outside of NYC and LA date fat women–or even just non-skinny women. It's not a big deal. It totally happens.

(Huh, I went to see what Will Forte's wife looks like because romantic partners of non-A-listers are always telling and no actors over 40 are unmarried, but he doesn't have one.  No conclusion-jumping here. I'm also not saying I'm hot for Will Forte–that was not the intended focus of this ramble.)

It's because these undercover conventionally attractive men have crappy jobs, don't dress well, and possess mediocre self-esteem that clouds all the good-looking-ness.  What this means is that I need to scout out men in third-tier cities for raw talent. Maybe Nebraska is totally where it's at.