This is what we learned in last night’s season finale of Desperate Housewives when, as it had been speculated/expected/confirmed in the past few weeks, the last minutes of the episode took the story five years into the future. It really doesn’t seem like the best idea for the show, but it’s also too soon to tell. DH tends to cater to popular response, and if the general consensus is anything like my own, expect a bit of backpedaling come fall.

A whopping 80 minutes of show preceded this climax, and of the many revelations they brought, none topped being able to finally stick a fork in the “Why did Katherine leave Wisteria Lane 12 years ago?” mystery. Not because it was that much of a surprise, but because ABC actually showed a dead baby. As it turns out, he night before she bolted in the negative seventh season, a bookshelf fell on Katherine’s daughter (the original Dylan) at the same moment she knocked her ex-husband to the ground. Since she didn’t notice the noise, the little thing kicked the bucket long before her mother thought to check on her. Katherine’s crazy aunt told her to bury the toddler in the backyard, so that’s what she did. Then she went to Romania to find replacement child in an orphanage. (Duh!) Not the most coherent story, but it’s nice to clear all that business up.

So it looks like Dana Delaney isn’t going anywhere. And no matter where this foolish time jump takes the story, I doubt I am either. I still freaking love this show too much. I should be embarrassed.

So this year marked my first in-person upfront experience, and I have to say, they’re kind of gross. A bunch of sloppy ad folks boozing to the point of public embarrassment and blatant starfucking does not a good time make. It was an education though. My deep love of So You Think You Can Dance (returning in one week!) was slightly challenged by the throng of contestants from seasons two and three that could literally not stop dancing at any point during the night. Brazilian BBQ buffet? Dance! Line at the porta-potty? Dance! Creepy ‘80s cover band? Um… dance!

They have their charms though. And about a month from now I’ll be so thoroughly into their successors, this transgression will be long forgotten. What won’t be forgotten is the fact those two beautiful creatures pictured above and Eliza Dushku all bolted before I got there. Perhaps it’s best that they stay on their respective pedestals, but I sure would have love to see TV actors not on Gossip Girl every once in a while.

Enough of that. Let’s get down to business. This time last year I was an unhappy camper. Veronica Mars was done, I was mostly unimpressed with the pick-ups, and Eliza Dushku’s pilot was passed over by FOX. Things could not be more different in 2008. Friday Night Lights and How I Met Your Mother, the two bubble shows that I desperately needed to see renewed, will both be back with a vengeance. I’m genuinely excited by some of the new offerings. And this year’s Dushku pilot, a little show called Dollhouse by some writer/auteur/genius named Joss Whedon, is a sure bet for midseason. If you can catch the trailer (they keep pulling them), you will see how very drool inducing it is. Full fall schedules for all the networks, if you haven’t already seen them, can be found right here: ABC, CBS, FOX, the CW. (NBC’s is oooooold news.)

There weren’t any surprises this week. News of renewals and pickups, save a few exceptions, all came weeks ago. The only real shock was that after all the hullabaloo over the upfronts being “soooo different” this year, they were more or less the same. No complaints on my part, as I can think of far worse things than tradition. Attention-starved dance competition veterans for one.

Well, now with Miss Guided, she’s in every scene, and they’re finally hers to steal. Its hard to tell if all the show’s merits can be attributed to her. The teachers’ lounge comedy succumbs to the clichés of its genre on more than one occasion, but irreverent writing and a clever cast are hard at work to pull their own weight. Still, Miss Guided finds itself in the odd position of being one of those comedies with a commendable premiere, an even better follow-up and a whole lot of mystery over where it could go next. It seems equally likely that this show could give ABC the half-hour comedy its been hoping for (I just cannot count Samantha Who?) or just completely lose steam. I have a few other thoughts over at Metromix.

Miss Guided‘s first episode shows up on Tuesday night, but it’s official premiere isn’t until Thursday when it settles in its regular time slot. Both episodes demand the attention of your DVR. If you don’t share my blind love for Greer though, you’ll want to pay particularly close attention to the second episode when executive producer Ashton Kutcher and “can you tell or can’t you tell?” Jamie Lynn Spears make cameos. The Spears girls may be trashy, but no one can accuse them of not being able to pull it together long enough for a few coherent moments on prime time TV.

At first glance, not much has changed on the island. Locke and Jack are fighting, Kate keeps pulling her criminal shenanigans, Hurley is overly sensitive and Rose continues to offer her exquisitely delivered sassy commentary. But, um, the others are dunzo, there’s a whole slew of newbies who just dropped onto the island and our poor Losties think they’re coming to save them! How wrong they are…

I’m not that concerned with spoiling tonight’s episode, which mostly serves as an introduction to the four folks who have helicoptered over from the mysterious freighter of doom. One thing I can say is that there’s no clear formula for season four yet, with this evening returning to the flashbacks in favor of flash forwards – if only for this new set of characters. The episode offers modest back story for the freighter-ers (they remain about as ambiguous as you expect them to), but does begin to explain their loose ties with this season’s new Wirey mastermind, Colonel Cedric Daniels. “Confirmed Dead” is just as good as the season premiere – though it may lack a little excitement coming a mere week on the heels of the last episode. Half the payoff last week was the fact that it was actually happening.

It’s hard enough for me to digest Lost myself without regurgitating it in blog form. So for the most thoughtful recaps imaginable, check out new “band” Previously On Lost’s weekly musical summaries on MySpace. Their first offering went up this week, and it is as thorough as it is hilarious. Well done.

Eli Stone is not wildly fantastic TV, but it is heartfelt and easy to watch. When the cases Eli is trying fall flat and you find yourself getting distracted, Miller makes some broken facial expression and your sympathies swell. In the pilot, he receives life-altering news with his CAT scan results, and his fiancée chooses that moment to question her commitment to their relationship. Heartbreaking enough on its own, the look on Miller’s face is enough to make you take a hit out of Henstridge. Is this how it went down with Angelina, Johnny?

Miller reads these scripts well. He can tell when his audience is vulnerable to loosing interest, and he really turns it up. I’m not sold on the show, but I’m sold on him. You can read my full review over at Metromix.

Eli Stone premieres Thursday at 10pm on ABC

The episode in question, “Welcome to Kanagawa,” may be an art reference or an inappropriate comparison of the minor trials of a cute, almost exclusively white, fictional suburb to war-torn Japan, but it does indeed mark the end of this commendably awesome season of Desperate Housewives. I could easily pick up my whining where I left it back in December, but I’ll take this for the gift it is: one more episode than I expected and a hopefully less cliffhangery finale. If you can’t wait to find out at least a few of those on Wysteria Lane who lived to see another desperate day, here’s a sneak preview…

I often feel like the only person who is completely obsessed with her. For me, she’s the most interesting and dynamic character the show has yet to offer. My major obstacle with Lost was that I had a hard time getting into the survivors of Oceanic flight 815. You have to try to love them. This may be a failure on their part and it may just be my own laziness, but it was enough to keep me from watching until the demise of Veronica Mars left my TV roster mystery-deficient. Juliet hasn’t just fueled my interest in “the others” and the origins of the island, she’s made me care about Jack again. I’d sort of written him off as the same old Party of Five whiner, but his lust for the morally ambiguous Juliet (combined with his dismissal of the seriously not that swoonworthy Kate) has put our noble lead back in my favor. The first thing I’d like to see in this season’s potentially flash-forward-tastic season? Juliet’s role in Jack’s melodramatic descent into alcoholism.

Forget, for a moment, the saturated colors and over the top visuals. The real wonder of Pushing Daisies is creator Brian Fuller’s fantastic take on love, life and death. It’s unlike anything else on television and adds astounding depth to an otherwise cartoonish show. This time next year, the charm of Pushing Daisies may very well have run its course. I already know more than a few people who’ve tired of the twee and über whimsy. It’s a different breed – far off from even Fuller’s previous offerings – so there’s no telling how it will work in the long run. But much like I did last summer, I’m choosing to not dwell on what might go wrong with Daisies. I’m content for now with how happy it’s made me.

Like many shows, the episode in question was slightly re-written to serve as a “season finale” should circumstances prevent the show from picking the season back up. Circumstances look likely to do just that, and we’re left with one whopper of a cliffhanger. In a homeopathic drug-addled daze, Lily revealed to Olive that she is Chuck’s biological mother. The lingering presence of aunts Lily and Vivian has been a source of confusion to me. They’re pivotal, exciting characters, but I wonder if that was always the plan or just an accommodation made when Ellen Greene and Swoosie Kurtz came on board and fit so well. Clearly, it was a plan. I feel like they were waiting to drop this bomb till the end of the season (or even later), so half of the shock was the interesting choice in timing.

The payoff of this new storyline will never be what we want it to be. Bryan Fuller is more likely to find a way for Ned and Chuck to touch than he is to reunite Chuck with her aunts. Rules here are the same as they were on Dead Like Me: you can’t go home – especially when you’re dead. Lily and Vivian will continue as a parallel storyline, with Olive as their unlikely ambassador, but I can’t imagine it will ever go much farther than that. Speaking of Olive, has there been a bigger surprise on this series? Or for that matter, this entire season? She was the most unnecessary and forced character in the pilot, and Kristen Chenoweth’s cutsie voice and fondness for breaking into song looked like a dark cloud ready to rain on the Daisies parade. Quite unexpectedly, she’s now one of the most engaging, hilarious and strangely complex aspects of the show. Every utterance and expression is pitch freaking perfect. Golden Globe nods for the show, Lee Pace and Anna Friel are exciting but eclipsed by the travesty of Chenoweth’s snub. She is everything that a supporting actress in a comedy should be.

One of the more interesting reviews I read of Pushing Daisies appeared in The New Yorker several weeks after the show premiered and said that it probably shouldn’t be on for more than one season before it “take[s] its place proudly beside other worthy efforts that lived fast, died young, and left behind a beautiful DVD.” In the time since I read that article, I have yet to decide whether I agree or not. While the idea of PD sustaining its whimsy over many seasons seems far-fetched, none of the short-lived shows I love make me think “Well, I sure am glad that’s all I got of this.” I’d happily give a kidney in exchange for a few more seasons of Wonderfalls - Brian Fuller’s previous (and, I have to say, far superior) series. I suppose it’s not even worth arguing, because at this point, Pushing Daisies has done enough to secure a renewal should the strike have actually ended this season. Today’s accolades are just delicious, delicious gravy.

When Pushing Daisies ends next Wednesday, my lips well settle into a frown for at least a day or two. When Friday Night Lights goes dark early next year, I may even shed a few tears. But neither of those shows will dump me with a cliffhanger the size of last Sunday’s Desperate Housewives. The highly advertised tornado finally rolled into Fairview, and with it, an undisclosed number of deaths, two unlikely unions and the complete destruction of Wisteria Lane. Hyped as “the – best – episode – of – the – SEASON!”, it fell short of last year’s supermarket hostage triumph, Bang, but it was probably the best episode they’ve put out since.

It began with Mary Alice’s oft cliché narration, but they were rolling out the big guns, so she’s eerie with the foreboding: the tornado will take the lives of one husband and at least one Wisteria Lane fixture. The imminent spousal death she speaks of ends up being Victor Lang – Gabby’s creepy husband who garnered an absurd excess of influence and media attention for a suburban mayor. I’m pretty sure the mayor of my hometown works at a hardware store during the day.

On the non-tornado front, we probably said goodbye to new neighbor Adam (Nathan Fillion, tear…) when Bree accidentally exposed his philandering. Her immediate show of support and affection for his stoic wife (her bitchy arch-nemesis, Katherine) causes them to smile at each other and hold hands for the duration of the storm. They’re totally besties now! Trauma may also have inspired Gabby and Edie to become girlfriends, but those hints were far less heavy-handed.

The cliffhanger, if you don’t already know, is the source of Felicity Huffman’s scream that ran over and over in the torrent of commercials. It should have reached a Nancy Kerrigan level of hilarity by the time the show finally aired, but its hard to laugh at a woman whose five children and charming husband are laying under a burning pile of rubble that used to be her neighbor’s house. It’s not the kind of scene you like to be left with on the eve of an indefinite hiatus, even though the outcome won’t likely be as devastating as it looks. A show that submits Emmy entries to the comedy categories is not going to kill babies.

So there you have it: I love Desperate Housewives. You can slap a trucker hat on my head, hand me a copy of Vice and mock me for how culturally out of touch I am. If you were watching, you’d know better.

Before this season, my major beef with DwtS was that it took the hype and audience I’ve always thought was better reserved for So You Think You Can Dance. After all, SYTYCD is a dance competition where the people actually know how to dance and are free to perform less antiquated and more exciting routines set to contemporary tunes… and not orchestral muzak. There’s also the gakwer factor. A vast majority of DwtS contestants are pathetic at the start of the show, and even more are there by the end. If you’re lucky enough to ride the DwtS wave to legitimate success (like Joey Fatone or, apparently, Drew Lachey), more power to you. But you’re an exception to the rule. While your parents may always remember Marie Osmond as the slightly more feminine half of a beloved entertaining duo, most of us under 40 will forever think of her as that old cougar who fell ass over tea kettle after grinding with a man half her age.

As much as I’d like to be completely ambivalent about the competitors, I suppose I would have preferred prodigal Spice Girl Melanie Brown take away the giant, sequined golf-ball-and-tee-set trophy and the title of danciest star. Helio Castroneves’ toothy smile and saccharine spirit don’t set well with me, and I kept having flashbacks to Roberto Benigni’s chair-hurtling ’97 Oscar win whenever he was on screen last night. His stamina has impressed me though. He was already on the east coast this morning to dance for both Good Morning America and The View on zero sleep. If losing meant being able to go to bed, I would have preferred to be Brown. But based on her satellite interview with Diane Sawyer, I’m pretty sure all she did last night was drink.

Well, America’s Beckham-saturation reaches a fever pitch tonight when the female half of the powercouple makes her much hyped cameo on the show. Of course she’ll be playing herself (a role we all know she can handle), and from the looks of the previews, she’ll be treating us to those bizarre, dramatic hand movements that defined her when she was the Spice Girl who didn’t really sing. I’m hoping she’ll have a little bit more to offer though. NBC’s Coming to America special this summer was unexpectedly hilarious and self-deprecating.

Beckham isn’t the only big Betty cameo this season. Eliza Dushku will appear as a cover girl who’s pulled from rehab for a photo shoot in next week’s episode, and Golden Girls vet Betty White (who’s no stranger to the show) will play herself sometime in December. Rumors even surfaced this week that Lindsay Lohan might take on a role later this season. You know, if the rest of the season happens…

Are there any Betty-watchers among you? I’m interested in reactions to the cameo and this season as a whole.

Earlier this week, TV Squad posted their list of the top 10 scaaaaaaariest TV characters of all time, and the Gremlin from The Twilight Zone‘s infamous “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet” episode came in at number nine. In between flying back and forth between LA and New York 10 times this week, Jimmy Kimmel had time to spoof it in a clip that aired on both his own show and Regis & Kelly. Check it out below for some pre-Halloween whimsy. And on a slightly related note, be sure to grab your R&K 3D glasses at Walgreens before Wednesday. You wouldn’t want to miss daytime’s foray into the third dimension.

It’s time to trim the fat, folks. And some of this season’s more enticing fare has turned out to be deceptively unhealthy. Not terrible, per se, but certainly not worth the calories – like a McGriddle! Food metaphors aside, I really just don’t have the time or energy for my ambitious schedule. Sacrifices need to be made. Here’s a quick rundown of the shows on my chopping block and the ones whose heads have already rolled…

DONE!

Private Practice: I barely made it through the first episode. Its moderate success is a testament to the generally low standards of the new season and the decline of American culture. I’m sure Kate Walsh is a nice lady, and we all love any excuse to watch Tim Daly, but this show makes Grey’s look sophisticated. It also suffers from lame, repetitive episode titles (“In Which…” really?) – a trait shared by another demonic and ultimately doomed spin-off.

Bionic Woman: The inevitable mid-season episode where Katee Sackhoff brutally kills Jamie Sommers’ pointless, homophobic sensei, Isaiah Washington, is almost enough to make me keep watching. But… it’s not. This one is hard, because any source of Sackhoff while Battlestar is on one of its evil hiatuses should be a welcome treat, but even she can’t save this sinking ship. I may give it one final obligatory viewing tonight – tedious as that will probably be. (sidenote: Isaiah Washington’s default IMDB photo makes me want to die)

Aliens in America: This one is funny and sweet, but let’s be honest, Girlfriends probably has its moments too. I like my TV with an edge, and Aliens is clearly of the rounded variety.

STEP UP!

Chuck and Reaper: I kind of feel like a bipolar mama bird. I was so excited to see these two hatch, but their first steps have left me skeptical and contemplating a quick boot from the DVR nest. They’re hard not to group together because their premises aren’t all that dissimilar. Unfortunately, neither are their failings. Chuck needs to get past its heavy reliance on the charming cast (and failure to make light of the ridiculous plot) and come up with some more exciting storylines. As for Reaper, there’s so much room for social commentary, it’s kind of a sin that they’re not even trying to explore it. Melancholic twentysomethings are my favorites, and supernatural obligations as a metaphor for life’s self-induced setbacks come in at a close second. These two should be golden!

Well, here’s my last surprise of the new season. The ABC sitcom disc was mercifully missing from my fall preview set, so all I really knew of Samantha Who? up until last night was that it has a bunch of famous people in it (some awesome, some horrifying) and that the show’s original title seriously pissed off the folks at Dr. Seuss. The “bitch with amnesia” premise seems funny enough and Christina Applegate is a consistent charmer, but sitcoms are so rarely the sum of their parts. So is Samantha Who? an unexpected delight or just another disappointing nail in the coffin of boredom that is Fall 2007?

The answer is an overwhelming “meh.” Samantha Who? Should be a lot better than it is, but clearly isn’t as bad as it could be. It’s kind of boring but sporadically hilarious. Samantha doesn’t know who she really is, and neither do we. The biggest problem seems to be the disconnect between the cast and the content. Christina Applegate doesn’t seem comfortable in role that should be perfect for her. She plays an amnesia patient like most would play someone who’s been lobotomized. We want to see her naive and excitable, but she spends 90% of the premiere completely ambivalent and only 10% in hysterics. In one scene at an AA meeting, she goes off on a diatribe about her lack of identity by musing on what baked goods her former self enjoyed. You can’t help but think of Debra Messing trying to be Jennifer Aniston trying to be Lucille Ball as Applegate stuffs her face with muffins and lemon bars. We are already so many facsimiles from the original, only the effort is recognizable.

Applegate might just need time. She and Samantha could easily grow together. The rest of the cast doesn’t have it as easy – Melissa McCarthy in particular. When I heard that the Gilmore Girls’ vet had been quickly picked up by a big network pilot, I was excited and relieved. That excitement has turned to frustration after seeing her in a role more fit for a character actress with no self esteem. Going from an endearing, dynamic supporting character to a creepy, self-deprecating, apologetic loser might actually be funny, if it wasn’t a direct result of the actress’s weight. I hope for more from McCarthy and TV in general.

So, it’s not just a pie-lette; Pushing Daisies is an actual television show with multiple episodes! And judging by last night’s follow-up to the premiere, they’re actually going to be just as good as the first. Ned and Chuck’s romance cooled to a temperature where the sexual tension didn’t drive us all to drink and took a backseat (ha!) to the mystery du jour in “Dummy.”

When an engineer is killed by a hit and run, and a brief interview with his corpse reveals the cause of death to be incorrect, his vague clue (and parting wish) lead the gang to an automotive company that recently designed a dandelion-fueled car. The execution of sublime humor continues here and extends way beyond the writing and the actors’ mannerisms. Even the set design is hilarious. The secretly-flawed car is yellow and shaped like a lemon, for god’s sake!

In addition to solving the surprisingly morbid crime, we also get to know some of our secondary players a bit more. Lovesick waitress Olive Snook (Kirstin Chenoweth) proves she’s worth keeping around with some outstanding, if heartbreaking, physical comedy set to Jim Dale’s poetic narration. She even sings a wittle song. Emerson Cod (Chi McBride) still doesn’t have much of a backstory, but he is given some additional color. Frustration leads him to knitting, and his new three-way partnership is baring lots of gun cozies. The morgue attendant with the charming guttural noises also looks to be a welcome regular.

Any flaws in the episode are dwarfed by the ways in which the show continues to unexpectedly succeed. One issue worth addressing though is that the CGI leaves a little to be desired. The flashbacks to Ned’s youth, in particular, look less surreal comical than they do cheap comical. Everything else is still vivid and crisp, and much more than in the first episode, it gives Daisies a Technicolor noir quality. My only other beef? The complete lack of opening titles! I’m all about avoiding campy credits, but nothing hypes me up for an hour of television like the right tune set to perfectly edited clips. The tendency for programs to merely show a title page to maintain some sort of highbrow credibility is commendable, but it also shows a lack of imagination. And that is the last thing I expected from Pushing Daisies.

The story of a man with the power to bring people back to life with a single touch (there are a few interesting conditions to that gift), Pushing Daisies is one part crime comedy, one part childlike romance and one part character study of the confused loner we’re all capable of being. You can read my full review of the first episode here, and for all things related to the show, check out The Pie Maker.

Pushing Daisies is not for everyone (people who hate puppies, sunshine and smiling or those with a low tolerance for whimsy and charm will probably be better off watching Deal or No Deal). But if you consider yourself a fan of television, film or just being happy, I urge you to give it a go. It’s the kind of show that only shows up once in a great while, and, unfortunately, doesn’t often get to stick around as long as it deserves. Let’s see if we can avoid that.

Pushing Daisies airs Wednesdays at 8pm on ABC

At least that what the folks at ABC are hoping for. It’s got to be their best case scenario for Cavemen, the new sitcom about three Neandertal buddies making a go of it in contemporary San Diego. Ridiculous premises happen, but when they’re a vehicle for social commentary, they can be excusable. Dinosaurs explored subjects like censorship, war profiteering, body image and intolerance towards vegetarians (a network-friendly allusion to homosexuality). Cavemen seems like nothing more than a pseudo-offensive, thinly veiled metaphor for racism. There’s certainly potential for more, but it just doesn’t look like that’s in the cards. Like so many reprehensible torture-porn horror movies, tonight’s incarnation of Cavemen has not been screened for critics. A red flag if ever I saw one. And let’s not forget that it’s based on an string of effing insurance commercials. Postmodern or not, they’ve already negated any potential for earnest analysis of American life (however unlikely) by paying all of those licensing fees.

I’m not saying that Cavemen will definitely suck (though I can’t imagine it won’t). I’m also not saying Dinosaurs is worthy of a lengthy postmortem discussion. It never did anything The Simpsons hadn’t done already and several dozen shows haven’t done better since. It was an honest attempt at semi-thoughtful television though, which judging by the pilot, clips and deafening buzz associated with Cavemen, is the last thing we can expect from them.

Cavemen airs Tuesdays at 8pm on ABC

I’m not going to dwell because I’ve already reviewed the first episode here, but it is still a bit mind boggling how annoying and aggressively bad a show with such a high-profile cast can be. It was announced last month that Veronica Mars creator Rob Thomas was joining the show has a consulting producer. This should be good news, but Big Shots, as it is, is an unsalvageable mess, and even the mighty wit and originality of Thomas is probably not enough.

As for Ugly Betty (ABC; 8PM), the season finale left a bad taste in my mouth; unexpected melodrama, unnecessary cliffhangers and nearly no resolution is not what I had hoped for from one of 2006/2007’s best debuts. Questions over the sustained awesomeness of Betty dissolved this summer though with the appearance of the promo below, which is also why she is my pick of the night.

Who can turn the world on with her smile? Well, ABC is banking on Kate Walsh, but I’m still not sure. Her incredibly hyped Grey’s Anatomy spin-off, Private Practice, finally debuts tonight (ABC; 9PM). An early incarnation of the show was witnessed by millions last spring in a two-hour episode of GA. I was forgiving at the time, but I think it was just because I was so relieved to not be watching the tools at Seattle Grace.

Also on ABC… critics aren’t as unanimous in their love for Dirty Sexy Money (ABC; 10PM) as I thought they would be, but I stand by my original assessment. There’s more comedy here than is required of a show like this, and it really hits the spot. The cast (for the most part) is also tremendous. If the writers are smart enough to abandon the annoying “Billy Baldwin loves a trannie” subplot early in the game, DSM could be one of my favorites this season.

NBC’s only other offerings this season also show up tonight. Bionic Woman (NBC; 9PM) has seen a little tinkering since the pilot, with a few cast changes, but it’s a standup hour of television. Check out my original review here. Tune in, if only for the seriously impressive ass-kicking starring Battlestar Galactica’s Katee Sackhoff.

As if the handicap of having to follow Sackoff weren’t bad enough, the premiere of Life (NBC; 10PM) is something of a confused snoozer. It’s not overtly bad; it’s just not remotely exciting. I can in no way endorse watching it, but I’m sure some folks will get a kick out of it. My full review is over at Metromix.