The family dynamics have always been a thing to appreciate on The Goldbergs, because this is a show surrounded by people who act like a semi-believable family. They like each other, they hate each other, they yell, but they also defend their own. However, it does specialize in taking things a step too far. Not crossing the line and then running the full nine yards past propriety (I'm looking at you, The Millers), but setting their foot firmly in "uncomfortable" territory. This episode is no exception.
First, Bev's strange fascination with setting up her father. Maybe it's me, but when it comes to the sex lives of parentals I prefer to scrunch my eyes, stuff my fingers in my ears and "la la la" that facet of life away. Not Bev. She dives in headfirst, insisting that her father's man-ho ways must end and that she, his daughter, is going to find him a soulmate. I do enjoy her example of how to be a bossy matriarch--"I'm just telling you what to do even though you don't want me to,"--but this interference feels a tad on the invasive side.
Luckily George Segal has the acting chops to keep it from being too creepy. He's competent enough that Bev's overbearing mama-bear behavior is slightly understandable, instead of being the cartoonish conflict Adam's constant shriekage would have the audience believe. Segal manages to downplay the confrontations between father and daughter, deftly handling Bev's busybody nature and even busting out the feels. When his debonair attitude cracks and we see the reality of his fears to commit to another woman, the way Segal's face falls and and the sincere resolution in his voice as he says "I already had the perfect woman" makes a degrading storyline something beautiful. It doesn't excuse Gramps's shallow treatment of all the women he dates, but it gives some emotional depth to sitcom shenanigans.
Barry and Adam's storyline has an equally icky premise followed by a slightly saccharine resolution. It's nice to let the brothers verbally share their love for each other, even if the impetus is a sort of love siblings probably shouldn't share around each other. My biggest concern in the saga of scrambled boobs (other than the bad masturbation puns...there are FAR better options than sniggering at the work "tugging") is the role of poor, abandoned Erica.
Just because she's barely a character, does that mean she does not feel? While it's great that Barry and Adam found a shared (*shudder*) hobby, my heart goes out to poor Erica and her General Hospital loss. Is she to be denied bonding time with Adam just because she's a sister, a girl, and therefore less important in his life? And more importantly, how will she ever know if Luke and Laura get married? Depriving her of that epic love story is simply cruel.