All language subtitles for Good Times s06e07 JJ the Teacher

Good times! Any time you need a payment.
Good times! Any time you need a break.

Good times! Any time you're up and
under.

Not getting hassled, not getting
hustled.

Keeping your head above water.

Making a wave when you can.

Temporary layoffs.

Good times!

Man, I got a good feeling about this job
application.

Keith Anderson, bank managerial trainee.

Hey, Keith, on that application, do they
ask if you're black?

No, but when I get there for the
interview, I'll be sure to tell them.

You know, it's also against the law to
ask about your sex.

Now, baby, that's something I'm not
going to tell them about. Come here,

Keith, you better shut it up.

I see here where Romeo's climbing up
Juliet's balcony again.

Would you warn somebody when you walk
into a room?

Like, rattle your brain.

Look here, bear face.

When y 'all get the urge to merge, why
don't y 'all put up a flashing red light

like they do in Hollywood?

With a little sign outside saying, Love
seen in progress.

Young man kisses the creature from the
Black Lagoon.

JJ, I'd break you in half, but you see,
I don't want to have two of you around.

Hey, Michael, you gonna let him talk to
your big brother like that?

Not if I do it first, chicken rib.

What do my eyes inspire him?

It's like two bony fingers to me.

It's more like dust to me, Thelma.

Look here.

I got a couple of art students coming
over here in a minute, and I don't want

them painting over dust.

Look, this is your job painting class.

You dust.

I can see that I'm surrounded by
creative and mental midgets in here.

I mean, would Rembrandt do furniture?

Would Michelangelo do windows?

No, but he did ceilings.

Look, you better start doing your share
of the work around here. You hear that?

Puny Picasso.

You got something under your crocodile
face?

At

ease.

All day long, I have to handle a bus
full of screaming kids.

And there's only one thing worse.

Coming home to a house full of screaming
kids.

Well, you had a bad day, huh?

Well, let me tell you.

You know that little Leroy Jr.

who's always beating up on little Billy
Washington?

Well, Billy brought his dog on the bus.

And before I could stop the fight, Leroy
bit the dog.

Now,

will somebody tell me what started all
this?

Stupid art class again.

I'll tell you what started all this, Ma.

June 18th, 1957.

The day Omen 3 was born.

Mama, JJ's art classes are here.

I mean, this apartment is crowded
enough. Michael, it may be crowded, but

fees that JJ gets from his students is
helping to pay the rent.

Ma, he only has two students.

Clumsy Earl, who eats more than he
paints. And dumb Donna.

Dumb Donna?

That's right.

Dumb Donna.

When you asked her if she was ready to
work in oils, she said, Mazzola.

Oh, Crisco.

That's dumb, honey.

Well, you gotta admit that that little
Earl Mitchell really... has got talent.

Michael, did you see this one? Let me
see, Mama.

Hold on.

Yeah, that one's really good.

But did you take a look at this
monstrosity?

What do you call it?

Hey, come on, Michael.

Donna's one of my prized students.

Uh, this is, uh, this is, uh, an
abstract version of pizza with

it.

It looks like an explosion in a paint
factory.

Well, look here, y 'all.

Donna's got a lot of talent. It's just a
matter of bringing it out, you know?

Hi, JJ.

It looks like her problem is keeping it
in.

Hi, everybody.

Hello, Donna.

Nice to see you again.

Hi, Michael.

Yeah, baby, you got a lot of talent.

someday? Yes.

I saw the cutest purple smock today.

It was low cut in front and it comes up
to here.

What do you think, JJ?

Uh, if the truck saw that, he would
really be too loose.

Mon chéri, l 'amour des fables.

Lord have mercy.

Say, Donna, how'd you get started in
that painting stuff?

Well, all my friends at school just rave
about the way I paint my nails.

Keith,

darling, let's go to a movie.

A movie? Yes, a movie.

You know that movie you wanted to see
with Peter Falk? Oh, yeah. Okay, let's

see that movie. Peter Falk movie. Right.

Excuse me there, lady.

There's one thing I want to ask you.
It's a simple question.

Oh, geez, I forgot the question.

But you see, it's about the great form
you have there. My wife has a form like

it.

See you later, okay? Bye -bye,
everybody.

Wow,

he's nice.

But he sure talks funny. He certainly
does.

So, what's the lesson for today, JJ?

Well...

Lesson for today is to erase what you
did yesterday.

No, I mean, Donna, I think you're going
to need a little more private

instruction. Yeah.

Come in.

Oh, hey there, Earl. How you doing?

Hi, JJ.

Sorry I'm late.

You wouldn't believe what happened to me
today.

Hi.

your other shoe?

Oh, my shoe.

Well, I spotted this pigeon who hurt his
foot.

So you gave him your other shoe?

No, but it was a cat that was ready to
pounce on the pigeon, so I threw my shoe

at the cat.

Oh, I see.

No, I don't.

What happened to your other shoe, boy?

Oh, well... When my shoe missed the cat,
it fell into an open manhole and hit a

man on the head.

Now, I never seen anybody so mad.

He held up my shoe and said, hey, kid,
is this yours?

I said, no, it belongs to the pigeon.

nose is itching.

Well, Penny, you can't scratch it now.

Earl's in the middle of painting your
left nostril.

But I have to scratch it.

Hey, look here, Penny. You should have
started out before.

You know, whenever Napoleon had a
portrait done of him, he knew his thumb

going to itch. That's because he always
held his hand right in there.

Okay.

Thank you.

Well, Penny, lesson's over for today, so
you can take a rest. Same time, same

station tomorrow, though.

Uh, J .J., aren't you forgetting
something?

My modeling fee?

25 cents an hour.

Oh, yeah.

What? Somebody peeked my pocket.

Goodness. Well, look, I'll get it to
you, but in the meanwhile, how about a

banana and an apple?

Farrah Fawcett never worked for Bananas
and Apples.

A banana and apple. You're too kind.

Cheatskate.

Let's go home, babe. Oh, wait a minute.
I've got to tell a fellow myself.

They're not in the bedroom.

Say what?

I knew sooner or later they had to come
up for some air.

They went to the movies, Wilona.

Well, honey, if those two are up to
their usual trick, even the eyes of

Mars will be looking at them.

Listen, tell someone that the new French
bikinis came into the boutique this

afternoon, honey. Ooh, 60 % off.

Wow, that's some sale.

That's not off the price, honey. That's
off the bikini.

I swear, I was born wearing more than
that.

I'll get you later.

Honey, take your money. The job's on
sale.

Ooh,

Ma, that food smells good.

When are we going to eat?

As soon as somebody sets the table. Hey,
I'm ready.

I will.

Oh, what are we having?

Spaghetti, Earl.

Oh, I love spaghetti.

So do I, but it always goes to my hips.

Gee, I never noticed.

You're just as big on top.

salad.

I mean, you know what I mean.

Yeah, but I wish I didn't.

Earl, don't your parents ever say
anything about you always eating over

Well, my parents are divorced.

So you live with your father?

Yeah, I guess he lost the custody fight.

But he doesn't mind me eating here. I
told him I feel right at home. Why,

you, Earl. Sure, all that hollering and
screaming that goes on and on here

doesn't bother me at all.

I didn't mean it that way.

I mean... It's all right, Earl.

What does your father do?

Well, he's a construction worker.

He works so hard that when he comes
home, it's 3B time for him.

3B? Beer, belts, and beer.

Well, you can tell him from me that we
think you are very talented, very nice,

and very... Very coordinated.

I'm Frank Mitchell. Is my son Earl here?

Oh, there you are.

Boy, I've been looking all over town for
you. Didn't I tell you they won't have

to come look at you?

You can't be pulling that kid's ear like
that. Say what?

Uh, Van Gogh.

Yes, he did.

Van Gogh got along very well with one
ear. Yes, he did.

There's no way to treat the boy. Mr.
Mitchell, Earl is my brother's best

student. Not anymore. From now on, he's
your brother's ex -student.

Come on, here.

Hey, Donna, you can't quit taking my art
lessons now.

So what if you're painting the dog a
little like a giraffe?

Haven't you ever heard of a long -necked
Doberman?

All right, bye.

First Earl quits taking my art lessons,
now Donna.

What worse could happen?

It just happened.

All right, J .J., there ain't nothing in
your lease that says you can use this

apartment for an art studio.

Now, how does the word eviction grab
you?

Go ahead, Bookman, evict me.

Torch me. Put me on the rack.

Show me pictures of your wife.

I'm washed up anyway.

Well, what's wrong, man?

I just lost my only two art students.

You mean you only had two students and
they both quit?

Yeah, Bookman.

Hey, Bookman, what's so funny? I mean,
you got an art class with no students.

You know what that means?

No, what?

That means you ain't got no class.

Get it, J .J.? No class?

I get it, Bookman. Now, there's the
door. You get it.

I mean, if you want to practice, you can
always paint me, man.

Look, Bookman, I don't paint landscapes.

That's right. I've heard of the leaning
tower of Pisa, but I never paint the

slumping pile of lasagna.

That's it!

Hey, look out, clown!

Hi, J .J. Hey, Earl. What you doing
here?

I'm here for an art lesson.

My father changed his mind.

Don't you believe me? Earl, I believe
you as much as I believe me and Joe

sleeps with a teddy bear.

Guess I'm not a very good liar, huh?

I just want to finish my portrait of
Penny.

J .J., if I can't paint, I'm lost.

Yeah, I'm the same way.

Hey, but don't worry, I'll figure out
something.

I'll tell my mother. Well, I'll tell her
a little white lie.

Okay, J .J., what will you tell me?

Uh, that Earl painted a picture of an
apple that looked so real, there were

worms on the canvas.

JJ, you know how Mr. Mitchell feels
about Earl taking art lessons.

Oh, Ma, but it's unfair.

I mean, I'm teaching the guy a skill so
one day he can hold his head up high and

be a genuine starving artist.

I don't know why he won't let me be an
artist. I can't do anything else. I

couldn't even put together a jigsaw
puzzle if it only had one piece.

Mama, suppose Earl had to give up his
dreams of wanting to be an artist.

You wouldn't want that on your
conscience, would you?

Now, Michael, don't you try to push me
into a corner.

You forget one thing.

Earl isn't my son.

Yeah, but just suppose, suppose he was.

Would you want somebody like Mr.
Mitchell stomping all over his future?

J .J., if Earl was my son, I wouldn't
want anybody teaching him to disobey me.

So I'm not going to interfere with the
way he chooses to raise Earl.

Earl. Earl, wait a minute.

Well, he didn't say anything about
visiting.

Anybody for pie?

Yeah!

All right, then.

Dive right in, Earl.

Make yourself feel right at home there.

Uh -oh.

Either that's your father or the Avon
lady's got brass knuckles.

I'll get the door.

Wait, don't tell him I'm here, please.

Oh, hi, Mr. Mitchell.

He's here again, isn't he?

Uh,

who you looking for, stranger?

You know damn well who I'm looking for.

Uh, well, we got so many art students
here, I get confused. Come on, come on,

stop jabbing. Where's my boy?

A fellow about this high, big afro?
Yeah, yeah.

Michael, he's talking about that little
Korean boy.

All right, then I'll ask you.

Hey, you don't see me, do you?

Earl, you in there?

No.

Uh -huh.

Well, you heard him. Don't you believe
your own son?

Earl, you get out of here, boy. You're
about to get the whipping of your life.

Mr. Mitchell, calm down.

You mind your own business, woman.

I ask you nicely.

All right, I'm calm.

Well, thank you.

Now, can't we talk about this sensibly
parent to parent?

All right, parent, tell me. Who gave you
the right to interfere with another

parent trying to raise this kid?

Believe me, Mr. Mitchell, that's
farthest from my mind.

But why are you so dead set against a
child taking art lessons?

It's a waste of time.

It's just a couple of hours a week.

Then it's a waste of money.

Well, then I'll give him a special J .J.
Evans free scholarship for sons with

hard -headed fathers.

It's a waste of hope.

Hope is never a waste, Mr. Mitchell.

Oh, sure.

You're going to tell me that canvas over
there is some magic carpet to fame or

fortune, but I don't close my eyes to
the fact my boy and I live in a ghetto.

You don't have to tell me that.

Do we live in a ghetto? Look like we get
room service around here.

Then you should understand.

Here we are, and here's where we're
stuck.

Don't you care about your son's future?

Sure, I care about my kid, but where's
he going? He got two left feet and ten

thumbs.

See what I mean?

Earl, what's going on? What happened?

Oh, it's okay.

I didn't break much. Just something that
smells like burnt rubber.

When that boy was born, I hoped and
prayed he'd be an athlete, a performer,

kind of job, get him out of the ghetto.

But, Earl, the first thing he does after
he gets up in the morning is fall down.

I'm telling you, that boy could trip
over limp.

He can't do nothing. I've seen people
fall off a scaffold with better

coordination than what that boy's got.

Mr. Mitchell, instead of harping on what
he can't do, why don't you talk about

what he can do?

Yeah. Look at this, Mr. Mitchell.

He did this with ten thumbs? I'm telling
you, the boy could paint with his feet.

Mr. Mitchell, I mean, in my opinion, I
think Earl has the potential to be one

the best artists to come out of the
ghetto since... Since me. And that's the

best compliment I can give him.

This painting business, that's a pastime
for white folks.

What'd somebody do, bleach me?

Where have you been, Mr. Mitchell?

What makes you think that sports and
show business are the only way out of

ghetto? A lot of our people are serious
artists. That's right, Mr. Mitchell.

Haven't you ever heard of artists like
Ernie Barnes, Charles White, or Bernie

Casey? Come on. I ain't never heard of
no black man getting out of the ghetto

with a paintbrush.

Oh, yeah?

What about the guy painting the white
line down the freeway?

Please.

Listen, when you get that boy out of
your bathroom, I want him out here in

of me right now.

Now, there you are.

Now, you going home with me and you
ain't ever coming back here again. You

that?

No.

Boy, you don't hear so good.

You ever come back here again, you're
going to get a worse whipping than the

you're going to get tonight.

I'm coming back, Pa.

I swear I'm going to whip you.

And I'll come back again.

And I'll whip you again.

then I guess that's just how it'll be
till one of us gives up.

What am I going to do with this boy?

Well, for starters, you can try
listening.

I just want to talk for myself just
once.

All right, then, talk.

I don't know what to say.

Maybe you can try telling me why you
just have to do this.

Fool painting thing.

I have to.

It's my life.

You really think you can paint your way
out of the ghetto?

I'm not trying to paint my way out of
the ghetto. I just want to paint the

ghetto.

Well, for somebody who didn't know what
to say, you said that very good, son.

Okay, then.

You throw your life away taking painting
lessons, but you ain't gonna use my

money to do it.

And where you been getting the money to
take them lessons anyway? What you been

doing, stealing?

I've been using my lunch money.

Oh, my Lord.

No wonder the poor child is always so
hungry.

Yeah, and all the time I thought he had
to take one.

Mr. Mitchell, my brother J .J. did say
he'd give her all free lessons.

No, no, the Mitchells don't take no
charity.

I'll pay for the lesson.

You don't have to.

You shooting off your mouth again, huh?
I said I'd pay for the lessons, that's

final.

Don't be a stubborn fool.

Like your father.

Pretty good, huh, Mr. Mitchell?

We Mitchells don't do anything pretty
good.

It's great.

Thanks, Pa.

Thank you.

Watching the asphalt grow Thinking how
it all looks and it

dies Good times, good times Good times
is videotaping for a studio audience

Making a wave when you can Temporary
layoff Good

times