By Deborah
Previously on The West Wing: Josh announced to Donna his second date with Amy; Toby told Josh that Amy's seeing somebody, who turned out to be Congressman John Tandy in the form of the Sprint guy; Josh decided to tell Amy that Tandy's just using her to score political points; Josh blamed Toby for the fact that his relationship with Amy's fouled up; Leo thought POTUS likely has a lot on his mind.
Mighty big props to the readers who presented me with the wonderful gift of an Aeron chair. This is the first recap I've written in it, and I'm already cracking under the pressure of trying to write a recap that will live up to this chair's glory...and I've barely begun.
It's 5:14 AM, and we're in Josh's apartment. He's getting out of bed. Don't get too excited. He's fully pyjamaed. I know, you're disappointed. They could have at least had him shirtless. Personally, I'm more excited about the fact that we're actually getting to see a staff member at home, which also means I have a new set to ogle. Josh ambles out of the bedroom in the too-big pair of blue PJs that C.J. gave him when he was recuperating from being shot at; he was wearing them at the end of "The Midterms." They will hereafter be known as C.J.'s PJs. His apartment is pretty nicely done for someone who probably spends slightly more time at home than I do at the local sports bar. As he ambles into the kitchen, we can see that the place is decorated in a mixture of retro/hip/modern style. His kitchen table is oddly wobbly as he passes it, but I kind of like that. The apartment has the same thick, elegant mouldings and French doors and subtle colour scheme as a certain other place I can think of. He's got what has to be a very expensive stainless steel fridge with side-by-side doors and an ice/water dispenser. He immediately turns on the TV news, and then goes to the coffee maker, checks the filter, then gathers it and the coffee grounds up and chucks the mess in the garbage. He goes to the well-stocked fridge and...okay, personally, I'm starting to suspect him of having hired professionals to decorate his place and populate it with signs of life, in order to make Amy and other prospective partners think he has a life. I just don't buy that he has a well-stocked fridge. Some beer, some cheese that dates back to the last Republican administration, some week-old pizza, some lunch meat, and a container of something his mother sent six months back that he's afraid to open now...maybe. Okay, where was I? He goes to the fridge, grabs the can of coffee, finds it's empty, starts to put it back, realizes that's not very smart, and mutters to himself about that. He then goes to the garbage can, gingerly fishes out yesterday's filter and coffee grounds, and plops them in the coffee maker. Nice. As he does so, someone knocks on his door. Pretty early for visitors; yet Josh seems entirely unconcerned and unsurprised. Probably figures it's Donna.
Josh wanders over and opens the door to see Amy standing there. They say hello and she comes in and takes off her coat, asking, "You let anybody up without asking who it is?" Josh mumbles, "I thought you were breakfast." Not going near that one. Nope. As she goes and helps herself to a beverage (and may we note, she seems plenty comfortable in this apartment), she says, "You know what? John's never asked to see the WLC's high donor database." Josh is mystified: "What?" Amy repeats her statement, adding, "Or any other list. So how do you like them apples?" Josh says he only went to sleep about two hours ago. Amy says, "You think he's using me." Josh: "Is the sun even up?" Amy, sitting down on the couch: "I just thought you should know." Josh, turning on a lamp: "No, not so much." Amy declares that his PJs are too big for him. He asks what makes her say that; she starts to point out what's wrong with the bottoms, but before she gets very far, Josh interjects that he knows they're too big for him: "What are you doing here?" She replies, "Demonstrating once and for all that John's not using me to get the women's vote." Josh hesitates for a moment and then gently says, "You're flaky, you know that?" Word cubed, dude. "You're quite the flake." Amy's still rattling on about how Congressman Sprint hasn't asked to see the database. Well, wouldn't that be really obvious and anvilicious and inappropriate and stupid of him? Not sure it proves all that much. Josh says he was done with this fight a month ago. Amy's still going on: "Never asked us to sponsor a fundraiser for him..." Josh, shuffling around his apartment, says it's early. Amy says, "It's January. You think it's too early to start raising money?" Josh means that it's early, as in the nightingale hath not pierced the hollow of her flaky ear, never mind the lark. Oh, okay, he doesn't reference Romeo and Juliet. I could do with a little more Shakespeare and a lot less Broadway on this program, though. But she rabbits on and on: Congressman Sprint declined a juicy speaking spot she offered; he hardly takes photo ops with her. This Josh argues, saying he always takes photo ops with her. She admits it: "But he never runs them in his Congressional newsletter." Whatta guy. She asks, "How do you like them apples?" The way she says it almost makes me think she's a tad drunk, but I don't actually think she is. Josh pleads, "We're gonna stop with the apples soon, right?" She persists, trying to get him to admit that he was wrong and that John had no ulterior motives in dating her. Josh admits it.
Amy follows Josh into the bedroom and asks if he means it. He says, "No! Of course I'm right, and his relationship with you has everything to do with politics! He's a power dater. That's what power daters do. You know how I know?" I'm afraid he's going to claim to be one, which indeed he does. On what possible basis...? Amy asks, "You know how I know that you're wrong?" Josh: "'Cause you looked in his eyes, saw into his soul, and confronted him in a moment of human honesty?" She says that's right. Josh replies, "Then he was sure to tell you the truth." She says he didn't have to, and then drops the bomb: "He asked me to marry him." Josh, who'd wandered out of the frame, wanders back in looking a bit stunned and finally says, "No..." And she says, "How do you like them apples?" Josh asks if she wants him to talk her out of it. She says that she doesn't, and that she already told Congressman Sprint no, and that she thought they should stop seeing each other for a while. Josh kinds of smiles and says, "Okay." Amy smiles and comments, "Now you're nervous." Which he totally is, but he denies it. She says, "Josh, you and I have spent four nights with each other. I didn't break up with him for you. I'm not Pathetic Stalking Woman who, you know..." Shows up uninvited at people's apartments at 5:00 AM? She struggles for words and comes up with, "...does things." Josh says, as he walks over to her, that they spent six nights together. I wonder how the Josh-and-Donna 'shippers are taking all this. Amy wonders what he's counting; he says he's counting them all. She says it was four. He asks, "He just up and proposed?" She snipes, "Yes, Hamlet, it's called being decisive." Ah, there's the Bard. Sort of. Josh: "No, Ophelia, it's called a political asset." She asks what it matters now. As Josh brushes past her, he says it doesn't.
Amy seems peeved not to be getting more of a response out of this, and asks, "And that's all you're gonna say?" Josh replies, almost smugly, that he'll say more when she calls him from her cell phone in thirty seconds. She puts on her coat and states, "You know, for the most insecure guy I've ever met, you're pretty sure of yourself." Well, that's spot on. She's a few inches from his face now. He persists: "You'll call me from your cell phone. That's where the real conversation always takes place." Amy: "You can't afford pyjamas that fit?" Josh: "It's laundry day." Amy says, "I'll see ya," and walks out, closing the door quietly. Almost instantly the phone rings. Aw, Josh, it's a trap: it's too soon! Don't. Fall. Into. That. TV. Trap! What are the odds it's not POTUS or Leo or some other bigwig calling? But Josh walks right in; almost smirking, he picks up the phone and immediately says, "Time #1 was on the steps in front of my apartment when you kissed me. It was snowing. Time #2 was when you came over after the State of the Union. Time #3 was at your house when you put on your bootleg tape of the Stones at Wembley Stadium and put on your feather boa and sang 'Honky Tonk Woman.'" And no doubt did a mean impersonation of Mick Jagger.
We see a shot of someone scribbling away at his desk beside a speakerphone; it's Leo, naturally. Someone is standing beside him. Josh continues blathering, "Time #4 involved a variety of hosiery..." Leo interjects, "Josh, I'm going to stop you right here, okay?" The look on Josh's face is as priceless as you'd imagine. "Leo?" Leo: "Yeah." Josh: "Anybody else in the office?" The camera shot changes to show us Margaret as she calls out, "Hey, Josh." Josh tries to rally: "Hey, Margaret!" He looks ill, though. Leo says, "We've got a problem in Vieques and a caucus in Iowa. Why don't you come on into work, hmm?" Like he was going to be doing anything else today? Laundry, maybe? Josh says, "Yeah," as he hangs up the phone and the credits roll.
It's 5:40 AM; a shot of a talking head on a monitor on Air Force One informs us the voting in Iowa today officially launches the Presidential primary season. The talking head says that President Bartlet, who's unchallenged in the Democratic caucus, is arriving in Cedar Rapids today. We hear C.J. talking on the phone to someone, saying that she's on the plane, and will be coming back tonight; it's just a day trip. She's speaking to her dad, and is having the kind of repetitious, circuitous conversation that is all too painfully familiar for many of us. She keeps saying the same things; it's just for the day, she won't be tired, etc. She explains that if they need to take a trip within the forty-eight states, they come back the same day. Taxpayers pay for a fast and comfortable plane which is expected to facilitate that. Then she has to explain that she's not voting, because she doesn't live in Iowa. She then gets back to explaining she's on the plane and says she may call him later if there's anything interesting to report. She hangs up. As always, Allison Janney is great with every little thing: her voice and expressions perfectly capture that complex mix of love, gentleness, compassion, impatience, frustration and resignation that characterizes so many relationships between adult children and rapidly aging parents.
After thinking for a moment, C.J. gets up and walks through the plane, catching a bit of turbulence as she goes, and finally reaches the area where Toby's sitting. As she sits down, Toby asks, "Is it possible that we're riding into town in a soy diesel bus?" Well, it sure is, Toby. As one soy diesel producer claims, it's energy "from the Midwest instead of the Mideast." C.J. says that there was talk of it, although it got killed pretty quick. She wants to know if they've zeroed in on a message yet. As he pours himself some more coffee, Toby sighs, "How to reform the Freedom to Farm Act." C.J. says, "Ritchie's pulled into single digits in the overnights." Toby saw that. C.J. thinks it would be quite fabulous if he won. Toby indifferently agrees. C.J. changes subjects: "So, the 4-H Convention..." Toby: "I'm not going." Toby, if C.J. wants you to go to a show where dimwitted folks with bad enunciation read their utility bill inserts and pet their dogs, I can't imagine why you would not jump at the opportunity to be with her. C.J.: "I don't get it. How can you not want to see the butter cow?" Indeed. Toby: "I'm that way." Spoilsport. C.J. follows him around and presses on: "You understand it's a life-size cow made entirely of butter?" Toby: "We're not going." Notice the "we." Now, that sounded very couple-y to me, but maybe it's just the C.J./Toby 'shipper in me. C.J.'s getting more worked up: "There's also a butter Elvis and a butter Last Supper which has, I swear to God, Toby..." She waits for him; he comes through: "Butter on the table?" C.J., gleefully: "It's got butter on the table! Right there between butter James and butter Peter!" Hee. "An almost mind-blowing vortex of art and material that dares the viewer to recall Marcel Duchamp," she concludes, as Toby has made his way to another coffee pot, having gotten an insufficient portion from the pot. Toby genially asks, "How do they keep it from melting?" C.J.: "How, indeed?" Nancy comes by to tell Toby he has a phone call in the staff cabin. He thanks her and walks back to the cabin, followed by C.J. quietly chanting, "Butter butter butter butter butter butter." Toby picks up the phone and waits for the operator to connect him to Sam, who is calling from the White House. C.J., still lurking behind Toby, pipes up, "Duchamp was the father of Dadaism." Toby knows. C.J.: "The da-da of Dada." Toby just stares at her and says, "It's like there's nothing you can do about that joke. It's coming, and you just have to stand there." Aw, Toby, can't you crack a smile for C.J.? He's smiling on the inside. I know it. She says, "The cow, made out of butter? That's how I like my irony served, my friend." Toby gestures with the receiver, saying he has a phone call waiting that's being relayed through four satellites. C.J. takes the hint and trots off.
Sam tells Toby he's going to guess where Toby is. He makes an impressively geeky estimate based on his knowledge of headwinds and takeoff times and so forth, and guesses Cumberland, West Virginia. Toby actually has no idea. He refrains from adding that he could care less. But you know he could. Or couldn't? Whatever. Sam decides they'll just say he's right. Then he asks if Toby remembers Bob Engler. Toby doesn't. Sam reminds him that he's a guy from U.S. Space Command with whom he met a few years ago. Toby remembers: "He told you they were tracking a UFO in the skies over Maui?" Sam says yes, and wonders if Toby knows why Sam has another appointment with him today. Because for some reason, the third season means Sam is generally on Crackpot Detail? Toby doesn't know. He tells Sam that Ritchie made a statement last night in support of the Pennsylvania Referendum banning any use of race in college admissions, and he thinks POTUS should say something about affirmative action at the UI campus. Sam doesn't think so, because Ritchie's not going to be the Republican nominee. Toby asks him to write up a few sentences and beam them up to Air Force One right away. Sam says he will.
Josh gets to work, where Donna's already in his office. Honest to God, I don't know how these people function with so little sleep and very little in the way of social lives. Well, now that I think of it...I'm frequently doing much the same thing. ["Same here, girlfriend, but at least I don't have to do it in pantyhose, like poor Donna does." -- Wing Chun] But, you know, it's not exactly an ideal way to live. Josh announces that he's a little tired. Donna, mildly snide: "Really? From the lovemaking?" ["Howlingly inappropriate, that." -- Wing Chun] Oh, lord. Is this going to be the tenor of their relationship whenever he's dating somebody? Donna walks out of the frame as Josh takes off his coat, not addressing her comment. I think it's become a game for her: how obvious can she make her comments before they penetrate the thick layer of Josh's obliviousness, a density that makes the stuff of which black holes are composed look like Chantilly lace. Josh says he needs to see Leo; Donna says she needs Josh to get her out of jury duty. He asks why. Donna: "Because I have jury duty." He finds out it's tomorrow, and suggests, "Well, why don't you wait until we're a little closer and ask me again?" He says he can't do it, and asks, "What kind of legal authority do you think I'm empowered with?" Donna: "But you're a powerful man." Oogh. Josh: "You get...yes. Thank you. You get deferrals, don't you?" She says you only get four and she's used them all up. Josh says it looks like justice is finally in her hands. Donna says, "I don't want it in my hands right now. I'm kind of seeing somebody." What's one thing got to do with the other? Nothing, really; it's just an excuse for Donna to tell us she's seeing somebody. I bet it's Cliff. And I still think that was Cliff's real motivation for rescuing Leo, not all that balderdash about being an upright Republican. Okay, maybe he had both motivations. Anyway, Josh says he can't help her. Donna pedewheedles, "I'm surprised to hear that, 'cause you're such a powerful man. All the girls say so." They run into Margaret, who breezes between them just as Donna asks, "Have you been zapped of your power by the lovemaking?" Lord. Margaret turns and gives Josh a questioning look; Josh mumbles, "She's...I don't..." Margaret tells Josh that Leo's waiting for him.
Josh, sighing, goes into Leo's office and asks, "What's going on in Vieques? Protestors?" Leo replies, "Yeah, listen, something like five ships out of the USS Thurman Battle Carrier steamed in yesterday. What they need is final combat certifications before they can be deployed to the Indian Ocean where they're needed right now. You understand they need to do ship-to-shore gunnery and air-to-ground bombing exercises before they're certified, and they can't go until they're certified?" Josh gets all that. Leo continues explaining that about forty protestors have planted themselves in the live-target range. Josh doesn't understand why he's being involved, since it's a matter of national security. Leo points out that the leader of the protestors is a friend of Josh's named Billy. Josh tells Leo to arrest Billy; that's what Billy wants. Leo responds, "This is a well-known actor, this well-loved young man in the Hispanic community." Little shout-out for Martin Sheen? "He's with other well-loved men in the Hispanic community." But if they were just regular, not-so-well-loved schmoes, there'd be less hesitation to drag their asses out of there? You know it. Josh suggests waiting them out; Leo points out that they're prepared with supplies and they don't have the time for that. Leo says that they have Billy's cell phone number, and Josh realizes that Leo wants him to handle the situation by calling Billy. Josh says, "No." Leo firmly says, "Yeah." Josh quietly says, "Leo, if I wasn't working here, I'd probably be with him down there." Leo points out, "Yeah, but you're working here." Leo turns to leave; the matter is settled. Josh protests, "This is a crappy thing to do with friendship. These things aren't supposed to be personal." Leo says, "We're at DEFCON 4. I'm sorry. I'm arranging the call." He walks out.
Back on Air Force One, POTUS stands up at a meeting and says, "You can check a whip vote, but I don't think we get sixty votes on a cloture motion." Toby's waiting at the door as a woman off-screen replies, "We think we lose eight Democrats who don't want to spend capital on the foreign aid budget." POTUS thinks they lose eight Democrats once they find out there is a foreign aid budget. The meeting ends, and Toby comes in and tells Jed about Ritchie's statement about the referendum, and that Sam's working up a response. Jed replies, "Look, he's going to make a statement during the primary that forces me to move to my left. It's not like I've gotta swing at every pitch, right?" Toby says that everybody still thinks it's going to be Simon. Jed says, in an almost conspiratorial tone, "You and I know different." Toby says the overnights show Ritchie in single digits; Jed comments, "Every candidate's dream opponent, huh?" Toby agrees. Jed says he'll look at what Sam writes. Toby argues they should respond. Jed won't commit to any more than looking at Sam's mini-speech. Toby can see that the conversation's over; he thanks POTUS and leaves.
After the commercials -- one of which included an incredibly long and annoying one for Viagra that features this dude prancing and cartwheeling all over town to the tune of that "Good morning, good mo-o-o-o-o-o-rning," song, which is so irritating that it makes me want to slit somebody's throat -- it's 6:26 AM. Josh is in his office having a little confab with Sam. Sam asks what's going on; Josh says he's waiting for a phone call. Sam meant in Vieques. Josh says, "Billy Molina and some people ran the Coast Guard line." He explains the rest of what Leo told him. Sam asks, "So they're hooking you up with Billy?" Josh sighs. "It's a strange day when I'm involved with national security." Sam: "I was just thinking the same thing." Josh: "You know what else? Tandy asked Amy to marry him." Sam seems very surprised: "Seriously?" Josh tells him she said no. Sam seems to think that was the right decision. Josh comments, with a fairly smug and self-satisfied look, "That happened fast, don't you think?" Sam: "No, no. Don't do this." Josh: "What?" Sam: "I-I recognize this." Josh: "As what?" Sam says that Amy didn't break up with Tandy for Josh: "I guarantee it. She is a fully independent woman. She's the real thing. Stop looking at her different than you did yesterday." The look on Josh's face fades as he says that he just said it was a little fast. Sam outlines the future: "thing that happens, you find a reason to get mad at her." Josh denies this. Sam insists, "Guys like you? I'm one of them." Hmm...I doubt that. Donna comes in to say they've got Billy on the phone. He picks up the phone and first of all wants to know if everybody's okay, or whether anyone's hurt.
Toby's reading aloud on Air Force One: "'The American Dream is opportunity. And together we must give every child the chance to reach for his or her dream. This is why we must ensure the opportunity is real, that the dream is neither deferred nor denied, that hope is not a privilege for the few....'" Little shout-out to Langston Hughes there. Toby trails off and asks, "This is Sam's?" POTUS says he reworked it. Toby continues, "'...but a promise for all generations to follow...' Sir, I've read it twice and I don't even know where you stand on affirmative action." Jed: "Yeah, I was trying to avoid a quote." Toby: "As well as nouns and pronouns." Jed, crossing his arms: "It's purposefully nonspecific." Toby says he doesn't know what they're talking about. Jed explains, "We get the word out to our friends that I was obviously nodding in the direction of affirmative action." Way to take a stand. Toby: "How about if we oppose affirmative action, and then get the word out to our friends you were just kidding?" Hee. Jed claims nobody's questioning their position. Toby starts to argue, and Jed firmly states, "I don't want to campaign today!" Toby, calmly undeterred: "What happened to 'writing a new book'?" Jed sighs, "We will, but we don't...man, we don't have to piss people off every day in order to demonstrate that we're not..." Toby doesn't look at Jed, but quietly says, "Yes." Jed, who senses Toby's disappointment in him, offers, "Look, we're going to Iowa, where we already won. I'm not ignoring the state, and I say thank you for getting me elected in the first place, and we're back on the plane. And I'll tell you what else, I don't think it's a good idea for us to be fighting for news coverage with three governors, two senators, and the head of the Church of I Hate You. Let's just get in under the radar!" I briefly wonder about the rites and rituals of the Church of I Hate You. Toby says, "Yes, sir," but you know Toby: he has a way of saying it that conveys his frustration. Jed mutters that he'll say a few words; that's it. Toby thanks him and leaves.
As Toby departs, there's a bit more turbulence. He goes back to his seat to C.J., who asks what happened. Toby just shoots her a look; she knows. C.J. says, "They say something in the primary that forces us to the left so that we have to..." Toby interjects, "Is that how it works?" She says yes. Toby: "Tell me more, Obi-Wan." Hey! What kind of shout-out is that? Maybe not one at all. It would be so great if someone, particularly C.J., would call him Toby-Wan. Ah, maybe some other time. Toby thinks that since Jed's going to a college campus, it'd be a pretty good time to address the issue of affirmative action in admissions. C.J. says, "Yeah," in a slightly edgy way. Toby, getting that C.J. is peeved about something, finally asks, "What?" She says, "Your father didn't need affirmative action and neither did mine, and they were both children of immigrants." Um.... Toby asserts, "Your father needed the GI Bill, and so did mine." C.J., pre-emptively acknowledging her atypical attitude, says she's the wrong Democrat to talk to about this. Toby asks why. She hesitates and says, "'Cause...after my father fought in Korea, he became what this government begs every college graduate to become. He became a teacher, and he raised a family on a teacher's salary and he paid his taxes, and always crossed at the green. And any time there was an opportunity for career advancement, it took him an extra five years because invariably there was a less-qualified black woman in the picture, so...instead of retiring as superintendent of the Ohio Valley Union Free School District, he retired head of the math department at William Henry Harrison Junior High."
Whoa! Slow down there one minute. First of all: I recognize that C.J.'s got a personal stake in this, but is this really her considered view? This woman who worked for EMILY's List? Second: while I'm sure that in some cases, in order to fill quotas, less-qualified people of colour have no doubt received positions or promotions over more qualified white candidates, isn't it rather disingenuous to insist that's always the case? Even in the single instance of her father's career, I doubt she knows for a fact that every time he didn't get promoted or advanced, it was to the advantage of a less qualified black woman. Whose word has she got for that, anyway: her father's? We don't know whether he was a paragon of anti-racist sentiment and behaviour. Perhaps he even had his own limitations that dictated that he would not rise to the level of superintendent, whether there'd been any black female candidates or not. Again, I understand it's her dad, but let's not be totally irrational. And why specify black women? No black men were ever the beneficiaries of AA? No Asian or Hispanic or Native American men or women, perhaps? On the other hand...people hold inconsistent and irrational views all the time, so it's not entirely implausible that C.J. really feels this way. And I bet she wouldn't say this to just anyone, but she obviously trusts Toby with it. Because they love each other. (I'm trying not to turn into one of the scary 'shipper people, but I feel my grasp on reality is becoming more tenuous....) Toby takes this in and, perhaps wisely, decides not to make a big thing out of it with her. He asks how her father is these days. She thinks for a moment and says that he's fine. They go back to their work.
Josh comes into Leo's office, saying that he and Billy got cut off. Leo knows. Two other suits are there, saying that the cell phone battery died and has to be recharged. The protestors have to use a solar recharger, and that will take a few hours. Darn sun. Is that the best that big old gasbag can do? Well, as it turns out, they have to wait for the weather to clear. Seriously, though: they can't get another phone to Billy? Seems...unlikely. It's pretty dark in Leo's office, and the way this whole episode is shot, there's a lot of murky camerawork and obstructed shots and odd angles and tighter framing than usual. The taller of the two suits tells Josh that the time he talks to Billy, they want him to "stand a little tougher." With his hand on the doorknob, Josh tells him, "Then you get on the phone with him. This isn't a hostage situation; it's a legitimate protest." Suit #1 starts to say something, but Josh interjects, "You're free to arrest them or shoot them, but we won't, because it's bad politics." As opposed to merely immoral and unethical. He continues, "Let's just remember what the thing is here..." Suit #2 -- who I think might be Mickey, the Secretary of State (but the camerawork is so weird we never really get a look at either of the suits) -- says, "This is not the time for people to be protesting." Yeah, it's horrible when protests inconvenience the government. Hate that. As Leo listens with a stony expression, Josh declares, "Puerto Rico lived under Spain for four centuries; under the U.S. for one. In 500 years, it hasn't determined its own destiny for five minutes. They're using depleted uranium shells, napalm, cluster bombs...Vieques has a cancer rate 25% higher than the rest of Puerto Rico! When is the time to be protesting? Tell me! I'll tell them. They'll do it!" Leo quietly says: "We'll need you in a few hours." Josh knows he had better not say any more, and thanks them as he leaves.
We see Amy on a monitor giving a speech in front of a Women's Leadership Coalition banner. It's a pretty flaccid speech. She cites opposition to late-term abortions, lack of affordable day care, gag rules, and sexist old politicians, with about as much detail as I just gave you, and states that she, the WLC, and women in general are not fine with all that. ["'I'm not fine with that' is the lamest bit of rhetorical flair I've heard in a long while. You might want to trade in your pricey chair for a new speechwriter, there, Lockjaw." -- Wing Chun] Josh wanders into the room where Amy's giving the speech. People start to applaud. Amy says, "It's really something: every two years we get to overthrow the government." Yeah. Lotta overthrowing going on. As I always say: it doesn't matter who you vote for, the government always gets in. Amy urges them to get out the vote and get the Congress they deserve. More applause. She finishes up with "May God bless America!" Huh? Really, isn't that a bit more DEFCON 2? You generally don't see a lot of flag-waving and Judeo-Christian- Islamic-God-invoking going on during most American feminist speeches. At this point people actually give her a cheering, standing ovation. What. Ev. Er. From the back of the room, Josh catches Amy's eye and makes a gesture with his chin, indicating that he'll meet her backstage.
When Amy gets back there, she asks if Josh heard the whole thing. He says, "I heard you overthrow the government." She says, "That's always money in the bank." She's wearing glasses and her hair is covering so much of her face that you can hardly see her expression. Josh says, "Tell me about it." She asks the other people in the room to let her have the room for a minute. They oblige. Josh asks, "Is there someone who can take care of Henry?" I wonder whether Henry's a kid, a goldfish, a cat, a dog, or a ferret. Amy takes off her glasses, looking surprised by the question. She asks, "What do you have against Henry?" Josh says, "Nothing. I...love Henry. Is there someone who takes care of him when you go away?" She leaves him with her sister. Josh wonders what she thinks about going away for a few days. She asks where. Josh: "Tahiti. Or Paris. Venice. We can go to EPCOT if you want." Amy looks pleasantly charmed by this turn of events. "Tahiti?" He spells it out: "Lie on the beach, dance at night, little reggae, UB-40." Amy points out that reggae is Caribbean music. Josh asks, "They don't have reggae in Tahiti?" Perhaps they do, at Club Clueless Traveller. With her back to him briefly, Amy says, "I think we should find out." Naturally, Josh doesn't hear her, so as she turns around with her bottle of water, she repeats her statement. Josh suggests the day after tomorrow. She blithely agrees. Excuse me: these two high-powered politicos can clear their schedules just like that? I couldn't clear my schedule for the day after tomorrow if you offered me a one-way ticket to Fiji out of this snowy hellhole. (Okay, "hellhole" might be a bit strong.) And all I have to do the day after tomorrow is go to a decorator fabric store, get groceries for Sunday's visitors, visit my in-laws and then my in-laws' in-laws, and then stop at Home Depot for about fourteen hours before coming back home. But it'd be a bitch to reschedule. Anyway, Josh says -- semi-threateningly, as if to give her a chance to back out -- "I'm buying plane tickets right now...I'm making reservations." Amy: "Go!" He says he's going. She says, "You're not going fast enough!" Josh: "I'm saying, when I walk out that door, I'm buying plane tickets." She replies,"I'm saying, when I walk out that door, I'm buying new bikinis." Josh grins: "I'm going fast now." Amy gives a big smile and wiggles her eyebrows.
In Iowa now, Bartlet's inside a building on what is probably the aforementioned college campus. Toby's outside, puffing on a filthy cigar, watching Jed at the podium on a monitor inside a van. He answers a question about water resources, then takes a question about Governor Ritchie's stance on affirmative action. Jed's comment: "I think that now that we've abolished discrimination in our laws we need to abolish it in our hearts and minds." What a non-answer. Even more of a non-answer than what Toby read on the plane. The reporter tries to get more out of him, but Jed ends the question session. Toby sighs and rubs his forehead, looking pained. And it's commercial time. Please, please don't show the Viagra one again. They don't. Thank you, God.
It's 4:45 PM. Donna seeks out Sam for advice on how to get out of being selected to serve on a jury, since she's losing the battle on having to show up at all. Sam says she'll be asked some general questions, such as, "Do you know any reason why you can't render an impartial verdict?" Donna thinks and replies, "I hate criminals." Sam continues, "Do you have any prejudices or feelings that might influence the jury in rendering a verdict?" Donna states,"I hate criminals, and I assume if you're in this courtroom you did something wrong, so..." Sam: "Yeah, the judge is going to throw you in jail." Donna looks mildly dismayed. Ginger indicates that Sam's kook du jour is waiting for him. Sam gets a look on his face as if he has to tell someone their kitty cat has cancer, and says, "Here I go."
Ah, yes, Sam and his C-plots. Z-plots is perhaps more like it. Let me tell you: we won't be spending much time on this. I'll be giving this the attention it deserves, especially since the whole purpose of this plot seems to be to set up a joke for C.J. When Sam comes into the Roosevelt Room, the Kook's head is obscured by the lamp on the table, so he sort of looks around for the guy. The lamp speaks: "Sam?" Sam eventually approaches the table and greets a nebbishy man. ["In a nice bit of continuity, it's a crackpot we've seen before." -- Wing Chun] Basically: the guy's a UFO chaser, meant to appear as a paranoid crackpot, and he wants permission to tour Fort Knox, because he believes that almost all the gold bullion stored therein was removed in order to make room to store the Papoose Lake spacecraft taken from Roswell to Groom Lake (Area 51). Isn't this sort of stuff supposed to be Djb's/ Demian's/ Chuck's/ Pamie's/ Jessica's problem? Keep it outta my show. Sam mutters about it being like "Dungeons and Dragons camp all over again." Mmm...Sam's geeky, but I don't think he was the D&D camp type. Sam gets drawn into a debate about the veracity of these claims, which Bob the Kook concludes by pulling out his trump card, which is the fact that his father -- who had three Ph.Ds -- spent a lifetime involved in research on these matters. Josh suddenly knocks, and Sam, grateful, excuses himself. Just before he walks out, he asks Bob the Kook when his father passed away (repeating the question, of course. Does no one at NBC think we can get the lines on the first try? We're listening, we really are. Okay, perhaps -- perhaps -- perhaps Toby mumbles a little. But generally, everyone delivers their lines quite audibly). Bob says it was three months ago.
Sam goes out to talk to Josh. Josh starts to say something, but Sam apologizes, blurting out that this guy thinks the government is using Fort Knox to conceal evidence of extra-terrestrial beings. Josh, with the typical attention he gives Sam's concerns, takes that in, considers saying something, quickly abandons that, and tells him they were able to make a deal with Billy: the protestors will get off the island right away if the government meets with a delegation. Sam wonders if it won't look like they caved. Josh: "We'll get slapped by the right, but they're not going to want to piss off the Latinos." Then he adds -- and I kind of get the feeling that this is the real reason he interrupted Sam's meeting -- that he's going to Tahiti with Amy the day after tomorrow. Having gotten all of his agenda dealt with, Josh can then show some interest in Sam's problems, and asks about the kook. Sam starts to say that the guy sort of "inherited the family business." But that's enough of Sam's problems for Josh: "I gotta go online and buy Tahitian things." Good old nice, polite, sweet Sam says okay as Josh rushes off. Sam, don't look now, but it says "Welcome" on your forehead. Sam hesitates before going back into the meeting room. When he returns, he tells Bob that he was just speaking with an associate who has higher clearance than he does, and that they can't give him the paperwork he'd need to tour the vault. Bob says he understands: "A wink's as good as a nod to a blind man?" Sam nods. He then throws the guy a face-saving bone by asking whether the two Congressmen on whose behalf he's seeking this permission are Democrats. Bob replies, "I'm not at liberty to say." Sam leaves. Thank God this much of this is over.
Back on Air Force One, Toby looks exhausted. More minor turbulence. He complains to C.J., "It's happening again." She insists that POTUS was good. Toby thinks not. C.J. says, "He was what he was supposed to be." Toby: "He was Uncle Fluffy. It's Dr. Jekyll and Uncle Fluffy all over again." C.J. agrees with Jed that it's too early to respond to Ritchie. Toby says, "He was asked the question! He was asked the question!" They both let it go. Toby suddenly turns to Charlie, and calls out over the bitter, howling winds of Plot Siberia where Charlie's been living for a while, "No word on the Republicans?" Charlie says there's a poll that has him pulling even with the Republicans. C.J. says that'd be too much to hope for. Toby states, "There's an old expression: 'Quando dio vuole castigarci ci manda quelle che desideriamo': 'When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.'" He pauses. "Anyway, he's doing it again."
Josh visits Leo in his office, who tells him that the meeting with Billy is set up. Josh is relieved: "This is great. Good is going to come from this." Leo's got his coat on and is leaving for the day. He says, "Maybe." Josh agrees, "Maybe. But how often do you get to...." He asks when the meeting is; Leo says, "Day after tomorrow." Josh: "You're kidding." He's not. They wanted to do it right away. He senses Josh's dismay and asks what the problem is. Josh doesn't want to say, but Leo pulls it out of him: "There's a woman I've been --" Like he couldn't have guessed that from this morning's phone call. Leo says, "Amy Gardner." Josh seems surprised that Leo's aware of it. Leo says, "I hear things. I try to forget them quickly, but..." Josh babbles out that they were supposed to go away together the day after tomorrow. Leo says, "Go," and keeps on trucking down the hall. Josh says he can't. Because he's gotta be da man on everything, and can't stand to be left out of this Vieques thing. ["Maybe he just wants to stay because it's fun to say 'Vieques,' and he doesn't have a good reason to do it very often." -- Wing Chun] Leo says he doesn't need to be here for it, and Josh is all, aw shucks, don't worry about it. Leo says, "My wife lives in my house. I live in a hotel, and this is why." I love Leo's way with words. He wastes very few. But: his wife? They're still not divorced? Hmm. Anyway, Leo trots off down the hall, and Josh says he's glad the meeting's arranged. But you just know he's going to call Amy and cancel.
Josh slowly walks back toward his office and along the way runs into Donna, who's still working on Project Avoid Jury Duty. She states, "The trick, obviously, is appearing unsuitable. Not just for this, but for any jury, while avoiding a contempt citation. So wouldn't you think if I just explained to them that my boss is a lawyer, my lawyer's a lawyer, and I'm dating a lawyer..." Mm-hmm. "Dating a lawyer"? Well, Cliff's a lawyer. Josh wearily interjects: "It's jury duty! It's not an appendectomy, it's jury duty. Do it, don't do it, but if you don't do it, you don't get to complain about the O.J. verdict."
Josh goes into his office, closes the door, and sits down heavily, trying to compose himself for this phone call. He grabs the phone and dials Amy. He reaches her at home, lying on her bed with Henry, who turns out to be a dog. A basset hound, I think; I'm not a dog expert. She's reading a book and says to Josh in Tahitian (and I'll be giving you this phonetically because that's all the closed-captioning is giving me): "Ia yo-rah-nah, My-tie oh-ay." She says that means "hello, how are you?" in Tahitian. Yeah, that's not helping Josh. She tells him he would say, "My-tie vah-oo," which means, "I am fine." He blurts out: "I can't go day after tomorrow." She seems unsurprised and says, "Yeah." He explains that he can go another time, but not the day after tomorrow. She says it was pretty sudden for him; he says it was pretty sudden for anybody. She says, "You're the one who asked me." Josh tells her about the problem in Vieques and that the resolution requires a meeting the day they were supposed to leave. Amy asks, "And Leo's making you stay for the meeting?" I wonder whether Josh will lie. Josh says, "Yeah. No, he's not. I want to stay." She says "okay" in such a way that you know it's not really. He explains that it involves a friend of his, who made a compromise, and Josh just wants to make sure his friend's back is covered. Amy tells Josh not to get mad at her. Josh claims he's not. Amy replies, "You're getting pre-emptively angry at me, which assumes I'm other people, and frankly I'd rather be a political asset, if you know what I mean." Josh snipes, "I do, and when you're done comparison shopping, give me a call." Amy: "Well, I'd definitely be waiting by your phone, Josh. Take it easy." She hangs up. Beautiful. Way to go, Josh. Donna -- who I guess was watching the light on his phone -- immediately comes in to say, "I don't know if you care, but you officially won the Iowa Democratic Caucus." Josh's expression doesn't really change.
After the commercials, it's 9:25 PM, and Toby and C.J. are arriving back at the White House. Toby's saying, "You know, after slavery and voting rights, if the occasional Caucasian loses a promotion..." I love the sound of the phrase "Occasional Caucasian." There should be a magazine called that. Wouldn't you buy that? I totally would. C.J. suggests they're going to have to agree to disagree. Toby: "I don't like doing that." Hee! My Toby. He runs into Ginger and asks if she's "got it"; as she hands him a paper, C.J. inquires, "You phoned ahead for research?" He replies, "Sure. This is Washington on the need for a national university." C.J. pleads that she's tired; Toby claims it's brief. C.J.: "Toby, please."
C.J. and Toby reach C.J.'s office, and Toby starts reading; "'In the general juvenile period of life, when friendships are formed and habits established that will stick by one, the youth from different parts of the United States would be assembled together, and would, by degree, discover that there was not just cause for those jealousies and prejudices which one part of the Union imbided against one another.'" C.J. says, "He said, 'We banished discrimination from our laws, now let's banish discrimination from our minds and hearts.'" Toby: "Who?" C.J. says the President said it, in Iowa, and repeats it. Because you weren't paying attention, were you? I bet you're the same person who always changes the channel in the most dramatic last five minutes of the show, too. She asks how affirmative action is doing what POTUS proposed. Toby says he's talking about college admissions. C.J. snaps, "I'm talking about my father!" Toby, a little startled, asks, "Why?" C.J. responds, "'Cause he's not doing fine. He forgets things." She pauses. "He forgets things!" Toby softly says that he's not young anymore. C.J. says she's not talking about dates and phone numbers. Toby knows. C.J.: "He forgets what's going on. He thought this was the general election today...and then he snaps back in, but...And I...I think sometimes that if he'd...lived...the life he wanted to...." Her voice breaks and she's close to tears. I understand her feeling, but I still think it's a stretch to connect any aging-related memory loss and confusion, or possible onset of Alzheimer's, to job-related disappointments and unfairness, perceived or otherwise. Maybe that's just me. She sits down. "And he's gotta watch me bopping around on Air Force One...."
Suddenly, Sam comes strolling in, saying "Hey! Welcome back!" And the mood in the room shifts subtly, putting C.J.'s discussion gently aside, accepting Sam's energy, and going in a slightly different direction. And it was handled very smoothly by these three actors. Nice work. C.J. asks, "Sam, have you ever seen the butter cow at the 4-H convention?" Sam, enthusiastically: "I have! And the butter Last Supper with the butter?" C.J. manages a smile, pleased that Sam appreciates such a mind-blowing vortex of art and material. Sam mentions the meeting with Bob the Kook, and explains what the guy suspects: "He thinks the government is keeping alien bodies at the Bullion Depository at Fort Knox." He thinks for a moment and wonders aloud, "What are we keeping in the Bullion Depository at Fort Knox?" Toby looks at C.J., who waits just the right amount of time before asking, "Soup?" Toby smiles on the inside, and even a little bit on the outside. And thinks about how much he loves C.J. No, don't even try to tell me he's not. Sam -- always a little bit in danger of slipping over to the Funnel People side of things -- says, "Seriously. There used to be 8500 metric tonnes of gold there; now most of it's been moved out. What's there now?" Toby, seriously: "I wouldn't ask a lot of questions, Sam." Sam chuckles nervously, asking, "What do you mean?" Toby kind of winks and says, "Don't worry about it." Sam: "Okay, I'm going back to my office." And that's where you'll be until the crank, kook, or crackpot comes along. Buh-bye! Toby looks at C.J. and says after a moment, "Call him." She nods. Toby gets up and leaves, pausing at the door. He briefly considers confessing his undying love for C.J., but then decides against it.
Back at Josh's apartment. The lighting people, always an erratic bunch on this show, have elected not to light Josh's apartment at all other than from streetlights. I imagine the "More Light!" Brigade freaking out completely. Someone knocks on his door (three guesses, kids), and he goes to answer it. It's You-Know-Who, saying, "Donna told me to come over. What's going on?" Man, he got Donna to arrange this? Weak, dude. He says, "Thanks for coming." When Amy comes in, Josh apologizes, saying that something's wrong with the lights. "Let me feel around for a switch, here..." They reach the entrance to his living room, he throws the switch, and we see that the living room is decorated with strings of colourful paper lamps and lights. I believe I see a palm tree...probably plastic. When he throws the switch, we also hear the strains of the chorus of "Red, Red Wine" by UB-40. Nice wiring job, getting that all perfectly synchronized. And it's all very cheesy and TV-predictable, but it's still totally charming and Amy is, indeed, charmed. And I would be, too. I'm a complete sucker for crap like this. She looks around and takes it all in as Josh watches her reaction. She asks, "You did this?" He confesses that the same people who dress his apartment and stock his fridge did it. No, no. He takes all the credit: "A little piece of Tahiti right here in Georgetown." Well, except for the "Tahiti" part. But, you know, big points for effort. He inquires, as he grabs a red plastic lei off the palm tree, "Would you like a Samoan Fog Cutter, or a Navy Grog?" He says that the Fog Cutter has three kinds of rum, including Bacardi 451, which forum posters inform me is not an actual liquor. I wouldn't know. Amy leans against the door frame and starts playing with Josh's ear. He tries to tell her about what's in a Navy Grog, but the ear action is throwing him, and she asks, "Did you ask me over to exchange recipes?" He slips the lei over her head, although she hasn't even taken off her fur-collared coat yet. She asks, "Should I change?" Josh: "Into what?" Somebody more mature? Eh, probably no need. She says, "I remember a pair of big pyjamas." Yeah, those were hot. Josh smiles adorably and says, "Yeah, good thinking." She suddenly says, "You can turn on the news, you know." She's grabbed the remote from somewhere and is already turning it on as Josh says he doesn't want to see the news. She says, "Just to see how they're covering Iowa." He takes the remote from her and turns it off without looking at it. Good boy. You're learning. He gazes at her and she smiles, and he leans ever so slightly toward her, and she puts her hand on his chest, and then he leans over and kisses her. The scene fades out with them macking on each other.
Toby's waiting outside the Oval Office. Charlie asks from the doorway whether POTUS can see Toby. POTUS says no, which Toby can hear. Charlie says, "Yes, sir," and starts to leave, when Jed calls him back and tells Charlie to send Toby in. Charlie gives Toby the nod, and then goes back to his usual work: doing his job and Mrs. Landingham's, while humming the song "Chocolate City" to himself to stay amused. ("Gainin' on ya!") Seriously: when are they going to replace her? It's been eight months.
Toby goes into the Oval Office and greets Jed, who says he thought Toby had gone home. Toby says he was just watching some of the coverage. Jed says it'll be Ritchie. Toby knows. Jed says it again. Toby still knows it. Jed says, "It would have been...I don't know...it would have seemed obnoxious. It would have seemed like grandstanding. You want some bourbon?" Toby accepts. Jed gets him the drink and asks, "What do you think?" Toby says, "I was a telemarketer for about a week." A long time ago, I was one for a couple of months longer than that. What sheer hell on earth that was. ["Me too, for a whole summer. Worst job ever." -- Wing Chun] He continues, "I can't remember what we were selling but you worked off a script: 'Hi, good evening, my name is...' And 'Toby Ziegler' was okay for New York, but once I got into the other time zones, I needed a name that wasn't going to bother anybody." ["At my telemarketing job -- which was more than a little crooked -- I had to say my name was Mrs. Sanders. I was seventeen at the time." -- Wing Chun] Jed hands Toby the drink, grunting, "Toby, if you have something to say, please say it." Toby states, "Ritchie's good for all time zones." I'm not sure I'm following this. Jed replies, "My family signed the Declaration of Independence. You think I've got an ethnicity problem?" Toby sits down, saying the line isn't between light and dark skin. He says, "It's between educated and...masculine." Hmm. He continues, "Or Eastern academic elite and plain-spoken." Jed says it's always been like that. Toby argues that when the White House got demystified, the impression was left that anybody could do it. Jed: "You're not telling me anything I don't know." Toby: "It's one thing that Ritchie came out for the Pennsylvania Referendum today. But the manner in which he articulated it...his presence, a clear sign he wasn't personally engaged with the facts...his staff was cringing, I promise you, and we let it go." Jed interjects: "It wasn't the moment to go --" Toby: "You were asked the question." Jed: "Do you have anything else?" Toby does: "Sir, I don't think I need to tell you that the level of respect with which the staff speaks of you doesn't change depending on whether or not you're in the room." Jed: "But?" Toby: "Well, there's always been a concern about the two Bartlets: the absent-minded professor with the 'Aw, Dad,' sense of humour: disarming, unthreatening, good for all time zones. And the Nobel Laureate, still searching for salvation: lonely, frustrated, lethal." Wow. "Lethal"? Where's this going? Jed asks if Toby's going to sing a country-western song. Toby sticks his neck w-a-a-a-y out: "The one whose father never liked him 'cause he was too smart." Jed gets up, saying, "This stopped being fun for me a little while ago." Toby stands, saying, "Sir?" Jed adds, "It was actually never fun for me. I was just being polite." He gets another drink.
Toby, completely unfazed, gently asks, "Your father used to hit you, didn't he, Mr. President?" Whoa. Back that up. What? Jed doesn't turn around and says, "Excuse me?" Toby: "Your father used to hit you, sir?" Jed turns around with a somewhat angry look and says, "Yeah." Toby: "Not like a spanking?" Jed: "He hit me. Why?" Toby keeps pushing, albeit in a gentle voice: "He punched you?" Jed says he's done being polite now. Toby claims, "He did it because you made him mad, but you didn't know why." Jed takes a couple of steps toward Toby and says, "Toby, it was a complicated relationship. Can I help you?" Toby says it was because Jed was smarter than his father. Jed repeats that it was a complicated relationship. Toby, with no apparent sense of self-preservation left: "He didn't like you, sir. That's why he hit you. That's why people hit each other. He didn't like you. You were smarter than he was." Jed asks why they're talking about this. Toby continues: "So maybe if you get enough votes, win one more election, you know...maybe your father'll...." Jed declares angrily: "You have stepped way over the line and any other President would have your ass on the sidewalk right now. They'd have had you on the sidewalk a long time ago. I don't know what the hell goes on in a Brooklyn shrink's office but get it the hell out of my house!" We can hear a clock ticking in the silence as Jed glares and Toby looks evenly right back at Jed. He finally says, "Thank you, Mr. President," and leaves. I'm really not sure what the hell that "Brooklyn shrink's office" remark is supposed to mean, and whether or not we're supposed to take it as an anti-Semitic slur on Jed's part. We see Toby turn off the TV outside Jed's office as he goes. Jed sits down in a side chair, with the camera kind of down by his knees, as he sternly contemplates Toby's words. A phone rings distantly in the background. The clock stubbornly ticks off the seconds.