How We Met Sam's Father
This isn't fair of me at all, I realize, because we are precisely at the beginning of a story here and it's ludicrous to feel that questions should be answered both immediately and straightforwardly and also because I am in a foul mood and cannot be objective about anything at all (I am a hot mess, you guys. Literally--it's basically paralyzingly hot out and will remain this way until the end of time and it's so humid that my once meticulously blown out hair went all twisty nutty the second I stepped out of the house. I look semi-deranged!) but I haven't been called fair in at least...ever, so I feel comfortable saying that the start of Sam's Long-Lost Father storyline has me side-eyeing my television set*.
Sam: Who is my father?
Alexis: I don't know his name.
Alexis: The reason I never told you who your father was is because I don't know.
That's not exactly the vibe I've ever gotten before--although I suppose that it is difficult to really pick up on a vibe when the prior writing regimes expressed little more than disinterest and dismissiveness and disgustedness at the very idea of giving this story actual screentime (and at the very idea of Alexis as a character). I always thought that Alexis knew exactly who Sam's father was and that he was an awful, terrible person who was possibly (probably?) related to her. I'm not saying that I was hoping for a creepy Cassadine incest saga; I only anticipated that a creepy Cassadine incest saga was coming. Is it just me? Have I invented this elaborate subtext in my head? Is there another General Hospital that plays in my mind?
Nancy Lee Grahn, it must be said, completely blew me away in these scenes and I'm sure that she will continue to do so as we see the fallout from this revelation (and the eventual random reunion between Alexis and her one-night hookup who will, for some reason, coincidentally wind up in Port Charles because it's totally a small world after all. Again.). And I'm excited that after YEARS of wondering about it (YEARS! We've been questioning Sam's paternity for YEARS! For seven years! Almost a decade!) we may be getting some answers, even though they might be dragged out with time-wasting vagueness and half-truths. I mean, that's kind of soap law.
But there's no excuse for the Ouija board.
Molly: I have something I want to ask him. Is that okay?
Molly: Mr. Kovich, are you still with us?
Rafe Senior, via the board game that made an appearance at every girl's elementary school sleepover, albeit a brief appearance because it usually freaked people out: Yes.
Molly: Do you know who my sister Sam's father is?
Why on earth would Rafe Senior know who Sam's father is? When you die and proceed to whatever version of the afterlife you believe in, do you become psychic and all-knowing? If you are all-knowing, are you limited to sending messages through Ouija boards to pass your knowledge on or are there other avenues?
(It turns out that Rafe Senior DOES know everything including the paternity of this complete stranger. His name starts with a J, which does absolutely nothing to narrow it down, so thanks for that Ouija Rafe)
*Other recipients of my half-asleep, half-sane side-eye?
Spinelli, for being literally the worst detective to ever go undercover.
Ava's Assistant: What happened was so horrible.
Spinelli: It was horrible indeed. In your opinion, what was the most horrible aspect of what happened between Ava and Dr. Clay?
Cool as a cucumber, Spin. You really come across as the type of person who has engaged in conversations with other humans.
And Sonny and Connie for their limitless well of ew.
Connie: After everything I did to you, including this last chapter when I told you I couldn't be with you after you waited for me. You suffered with me. You were the one who gave me strength to heal.
Sonny: I love you. I'll always love you. Nothing's going to change that.
The entire United States population in unison: Um...ew.
Let's all remember Connie passionately listing Sonny's virtues and wonderfulness when he officially takes up with Olivia. We can all laugh at her pain then, together. Bonding!