Red Oaks

Hi.

Not really sure how this works.

Why don't you tell me how long it's been since your last confession?

Uh, never.

Never?

Nope, I'm Jewish.

But I've always wondered what goes on inside these things.

Wouldn't you be more comfortable speaking to your rabbi?

Nah.

I don't really trust guys with beards.

I'm sorry, you don't have a beard, do you?

No.

Okay, good.

Um...

Is there something troubling you that I can help you with?

Hmm.

How long you got?

I mean, is there something weighing on your conscience

you'd like to confess?

To confess?

Well...

Uh, I cheated at tennis last week.

But it was kind of on the line, could have gone either way.

And, uh...

I lied to my wife.

I told her we were out of gin.

I poured it down the kitchen sink.

Anything else?

Well...

If you were to ask our state's attorney,

he'd say I'm guilty of financial crimes,

but the guy is such an asshole...

Sorry, pardon my language.

And are you? Guilty?

What, did I do anything that half of Wall Street

isn't out there right now doing? Fuck, no.

Sorry, again. The language.

We'll tally up the profanity and deal with it at the end.

Okay, that seems fair.

Uh...

I like it here. Nice.

Smells like cinnamon.

Some parishes are doing away with confessionals.

Why?

The feeling is that modern Catholics would

prefer to see their confessor face to face.

See, that's what's wrong with the world.

Nobody can leave well enough alone.

You know, as soon as you got everything figured out,

you're going along pretty good,

then the rules change.

There's one thing that doesn't change.

What?

God's love for us.

Yeah, well, I don't really believe in God.

But, I mean, no offense.

He believes in you.

Okay, well...

Tell him I could use his help.

Actually, I should get back.

I don't want to be late for my own trial.

Go in peace.

Thank you. I'm not sure how this works.

There's a collection box outside.

Consider it the swear jar.

Fair enough.

Thank you.

It was good talking to you, Padre.

You, too.

Phew.

Good morning, my beloved.

What are you doing?

Merely watching you sleep.

Not in any creepy or obsessive way, of course.

Am I that interesting?

Riveting.

If you were on television, I would watch you every week.

Then way you breathe in... and then out.

Well, I have had a lot of practice.

You are a delight.

I've never seen a house with so many mirrors.

Thank you for a wonderful evening.

Oh, my darling, I should be thanking you.

I'm... I'm sorry we didn't...

Hush. Don't apologize, my dear.

I'm happy to just spoon.

We have our whole lives to fuck.

I'll see you soon.

All rise.

Mmm.

How could you mess up a screwdriver?

It's only two ingredients.

Sorry, Herb.

Just get me a vodka and prune juice.

What's that called?

A Russian enema.

Hi.

What are you doing tonight?

Uh, I don't know. Why?

I checked with my parents, and they said it was okay

if you came over to give me a private lesson.

Oh.

Is six cool for you?

Um...

Great. See you then,

Okay.

Jail time.

At this time, we will recess for lunch.

Court will resume in exactly one hour.

Why aren't you at the club?

I didn't have any lessons this morning,

and I figured he could use the moral support.

Fucking trial.

What a farce.

Can you believe that state's attorney?

Looks like a fucking lounge act with that comb-over.

That's the real crime.

- Hey. - Hello.

Here's your mail.

Why the post office can't understand

that we don't live together anymore is beyond me.

Hmm.

So, how've you been?

Fine.

You sure?

What's that mean?

David is worried about you.

No, he's not.

At his age, they're not capable

of thinking about anybody but themselves.

Mmm, not our David.

Yes, our David, and it's fine.

He should be worried about himself instead of drifting along aimlessly.

I know.

That's the thing with their generation.

You know, they don't want careers, they want callings.

Not enough to get a paycheck.

Maybe.

You know what it is?

They never fought a war.

Oh, God, Sam, don't even say that.

No, you know what I mean.

When I came back from Korea, I was happy just to have a job

where nobody was shooting at me.

Move into a house with five guys, we ate ketchup sandwiches.

Didn't talk about job satisfaction,

we talked about sports or girls.

Do you think we should sit him down and have a talk with him?

I don't know.

He's not a kid anymore, he's 21 years old.

He'll always be my baby.

What is that?

- Pastrami on rye. - Sam!

Take it easy, it's tuna salad.

We got married near here.

Oh, yeah?

City clerk's office, fourth street.

A block that way.

My father wasn't about to pay for any big wedding,

or any wedding, for that matter.

So we jumped on the C-train,

and came down here, brought my friend Brenda

as a witness.

We didn't have a pot to piss in back then.

You know how big our first place was?

280 square feet.

Seriously?

Yeah, it was a dump.

Had more mice than windows.

But we didn't care.

We just wanted to be together.

I could do it again if I had to.

But he can't.

That man loves what he does.

Let those motherfuckers take that away from him, it will kill him.

What do you say, gorgeous?

Come on, let's go grab a little lunch.

Where are we going?

Jerry knows a great Italian joint, right around the corner.

You want to join us?

Oh, thanks, but I have some stuff I need to do.

Okay.

- Bye, David. - Bye.

Nobody pushes a button?

Hi-ya, Sam.

Harry.

Hey, I've been meaning to ask you,

any luck finding that Soon Hi?

No.

No, the guy at the Korean embassy said

the chances of finding somebody with the last name Lee

are about one in a million.

Actually, 40 million because that's how many South Koreans there are.

Well, therein lies your problem, Sam.

You're searching in the wrong country.

What?

She's not in Korea, she's here in the states.

What?

I got in touch with a friend of mine at INS.

He tells me she immigrated here in 1963.