By Deborah
Previously on The West Wing: Abby tried to cut through Jed's denial of his MS; Toby complained that they can't plan strategy when they don't know whether POTUS is even planning to run; C.J. arranged for the revelation of Bartlet's news; Oliver Babish instructed Bartlet to order the Attorney General to appoint a special prosecutor; post-election conflict occured in Haiti; Mrs. Landingham was killed in a car accident with a drunk driver.
We follow the back of Margaret's head into Leo's office, where Leo is having a confab with two Democratic party representatives who've recently learned the news about Bartlet's MS and are telling Leo that it's not just about the President getting re-elected, but that the whole House is up for re-election, and that Democrats are going to take it "in the throat." Both of them feel that Democrats who are running for re-election will be telling POTUS not to come to their districts, and the campaign "will never get out of the Rose Garden." They're also concerned that the campaign will end up being about Bartlet's illness and the cover-up, and that their numerous valid policy cases against Republicans (tax cuts, education, environment) will be shunted aside. Leo listens to all this with a look of serious concern. The guy wearing a sweater vest and bowtie says, "I don't like being the first one to say it, but I'm gonna. I think the President has got to strongly consider not running for re-election." Leo looks slightly irritated and asks, "You think you're the first one to say it? You are, at minimum, the thirty-fifth in the last two hours." Sweater Vest leans forward and says, "Well, we're the ones you're talking to now, and we're the ones who are asking: is the President gonna run for re-election?" The camera glides toward Leo as he says, "Harry, Bill, there's going to be a press conference tonight. I'd watch." And the opening music plays for the forty-fourth time. That must be Sorkin's shortest opening yet...I'm almost certain it's my shortest opening. While the credits and commercials are running, I realize I haven't got any Kleenex™, so I run and get some.
Safely ensconced with my Kleenex and the phone off -- although not, perhaps, adequately prepared for the presentation of Shakespeareo-Biblical proportions that is to come -- the show begins. Toby's giving orders in the Mural Room to Larry and Ed about where the President will sit for the interview -- not by the fireplace ("too much") -- and reminding the guy to light the room from outside the window. Toby complains about an Easter message from the President that wasn't lit from outside and therefore "looked like it was lit by Ed Wood." Toby wanders over to the communications area with Sam hot on his heels. Toby's still muttering about the lighting and Sam interrupts, "I don't care. Look, Toby, has anyone considered whether he's up for this?" Toby, irritably: "Up for this?" Sam mumbles that some stuff has happened since they decided to do this -- obviously, he's referring to Mrs. Landingham's death -- and Toby reminds him that the cat's already out of the bag, so there's really no turning back. Sam's hair looks pretty good. Sam asks when they're prepping POTUS; Toby says, "After the service." Sam's concerned about whether there'll be time; Toby says they'll have the afternoon. Sam keeps pushing for reconsideration but Toby tersely says, "There aren't any options left! We're going on TV at eight!" Sam gives up and walks away. Ginger, wearing a sombre black suit, comes up, apologizing to Toby for putting Greg Summerhayes back on his schedule. Toby's not happy, but Ginger explains that Leo's office insisted she do so. Toby's frustrated; he mentions the funeral service and all the other things going on. Ginger softly says that she offered the guy four o'clock. Toby relents and pats Ginger lightly on her sleeve before taking off down the hall.
C.J. comes up to Carol's desk and says, "Carol? AP, Reuters, Agence France. Something about seating on Air Force One." Carol suggests, "Seating arrangements?" C.J. agrees. As she goes into her office, Josh comes up behind her and follows her in. C.J. humourlessly says, "Listen, I was thinking since it's probably gonna be a light day, I'd maybe blow off work, go shopping or something?" Josh has no witty retort for this. She asks what he needs. He wants to give her a quick brief about the Justice Department's quest for money to fund the tobacco suit. C.J. mentions that the Justice Department's overmatched, as she messes around with files on her desk. Josh says they think that Justice should get the thirty million it's asking for; C.J. wants to know who disagrees. Josh indicates that it's eight of the fifteen members of the subcommittee that controls the budget for Justice and Commerce, including the chair, who's a puppet of Big Tobacco, and Warren and Rossiter, who have ideological problems with the case. As she puts on her jacket, C.J. points out what Josh already knows: it's not a good time to be alienating Democrats. Josh wearily comments, "You haven't been in my office this morning." C.J. says, without much conviction, "We'll get 'em back." Josh follows her down the hall and hands her what he calls a "pretty strongly worded release." C.J. walks and reads, "'The White House...For Immediate Release...Office of the Press...Today the President calls on Congress...deserve their day in court... and this administration won't sit on the bench while well-fed members of the Appropriations Committee choke off funding for a lawsuit aimed at perpetrators of hundreds of thousands of negligent homicides while filling their campaign war chests.'" She stops and looks at Josh with an expression that's a mixture of pleasure and wonder (man, she's gorgeous), and says, "This is like the fire we used to throw in the early primaries." ["It also sounds like the kind of bad writing to which Sam objected last week, but whatever." -- Wing Chun] Josh gives the slightest shrug of his left shoulder and the slightest toss of his head, and quotes, twisting his mouth a wee bit, "'Let Bartlet be Bartlet.'" C.J. gently tells him, "You gotta put it away for a while." Josh tries not to look disappointed, although I don't think he really expected to hear otherwise from C.J. She tells him, "I'm going in there now to tell them a landing ship helicopter assault team is steaming off Port-au-Prince, and after that I'm bringing in AP, Reuters, and Agence France. Nobody's going to write about an appropriations bill. Haiti's going to get bumped to the Lifestyle section." Josh supposes she's right. As C.J. starts to walk away, Josh asks whether she's seen him today. She hasn't, and wonders whether Josh has. He hasn't.
In the Roosevelt Room, Sam's got his hands full with a meeting of various Democrats. One of them, identified in the closed captioning as "Hanson," is asking why everyone's assuming it has to be Hoynes. Another guy says, "Please..." Hanson: "You don't think Wedland's going to get into it? Hutchinson? Seth Gillette?" One guy says, "Gillette's lucky if he carries his immediate family." Another guy says, "It's Hoynes." They all seem to agree on this. The first guy says, "Sam, you realize this conversation isn't ruling out Bartlet as a candidate. It's, uh, just what-if. We're party strategists; it's what we're paid for." The strategists all go on about what a fantastic and successful party fundraiser Hoynes is. The fourth guy points out, "Though, obviously, it'd be easier if Hoynes was running as an incumbent." Sam's heard enough; he slaps his notebook shut and says, "Okay." One of the strategists says, "Sam..." Sam curtly says, "Thanks." One of them backpedals a little: "It was an inappropriate..." Sam interjects, "No. When I say 'okay,' that's it. Close your notebooks. You don't talk like that here. I don't give a damn whose nephew you are. Tony, President Bartlet's not a candidate. He's the President." Sam gets up and leaves. Sam's loyalty seems absolutely unshakeable, as much as Leo's. I would love to have seen his reaction to the news. Maybe we will in a future flashback.
Situation Room. The President's sitting in his usual place, but the camera is behind him. Nancy's at the opposite end of the table. Leo's asking what the conditions are inside the embassy. Nancy says, "They've still got running water, but the power's been cut. The emergency generator's got about twenty-four hours." Leo asks, "Any injuries?" One guy says there aren't any injuries, but the deputy chief is diabetic and is running out of insulin. Leo asks whether the Red Cross can help with that; someone says yes. As the camera slowly makes its way around to face Jed, Leo asks, "What's outside?" Nancy: "About 1200 troops now with A-15s positioned outside the gates. They've got four 105-mm Howitzers..." Leo: "Which are trained at?" Nancy: "Our front door." Jed toys with a cigarette and pretends to be paying attention, but his mind is drifting. A bell is quietly chiming. Nancy says, "Mr. President, we want to send Fitzwallace down there." Jed asks, "Why?" As she explains something about a Haitian general named Frances St. Jacques, the single bell sound blossoms into several, very churchy-sounding bells...
...and the scene fades to one from Jed's memory. A bunch of young, white boys in typical private-school uniforms (blue blazers, white shirts, striped ties, grey pants) are standing around in the courtyard of a religious school. We hear a man calling, "Jed! Jed!" Jed's younger self doesn't hear him, but one of his friends points out to him that his father's calling him. Young Jed, who's not exactly a doppelganger for the young Martin Sheen, runs over to the man. From the clothing on non-uniformed people walking around, you can surmise it's most likely the very late 1950s or early 1960s. A humourless-looking man with an intimidatingly high forehead (Lawrence O'Donnell) asks, "Didn't you hear me calling you?" Jed nervously replies, "No sir, I didn't...I was...I didn't." A grim-looking man is standing with the senior Bartlet; Jed's father gestures to him, and then hands a cigarette butt to Jed, saying, "Mr. Spence found this cigarette butt on the floor in the aisle of the chapel." Jed dutifully says, "People shouldn't put their cigarettes out in the chapel, Mr. Spence." Jed's father says, "Well, people shouldn't be smoking in the chapel, I think, is my point, Jed. Do you understand what I'm saying?" Jed: "Yes, sir." Dad: "Could you tell your friends, please?" Jed says "Yeah," as he starts to run back to his friends. His father asks him to hang on, because he wants him to meet someone. Dad explains that she's going to be taking over in his office for Mrs. Tillinghouse. His father beckons to a blonde woman in a grey suit and black hat standing nearby. She comes over and Dad says, "This is Dolores Landingham. Mrs. Landingham, this is my eldest son, Jed." They just kind of beam at each other. Without even speaking, it's clear she radiates the mannerisms and energy infused in the role of Mrs. Landingham by Kathryn Joosten. The woman playing the younger Dolores is extremely well-cast.
We fade back to POTUS playing with his cigarette and Leo asking, "So what happens?" Nancy explains, "Basically, we think we can get St. Jacques to fracture Bazan's army." Leo: "So if we invade..." Nancy: "It becomes peacekeeping." Leo looks at Jed. Jed says, "Okay, send Fitzwallace down. Anything else?" Nancy: "No, sir." The meeting breaks up and Jed tucks the cigarette in his breast pocket as he exits.
Charlie catches up with Jed in the hallway. Jed says, "They've been in there forty-eight hours. The guy's been President of his country for two days. He's spent them both at gunpoint." Charlie gives "yes sir"s at all the appropriate points. Jed asks Charlie what he knows about the storm that's moving in from Florida to South Carolina. Charlie says it's supposed to be bad. Jed says it's a tropical storm. Charlie, "Yes, sir." Jed: "No, I mean it's been designated a tropical storm. That means it has a surface wind speed of something." Charlie: "Yes, sir." Jed wonders, "Isn't it strange to have a tropical storm in May?" Charlie's not sure. Jed cuts through the communications area and everyone stands, as Jed continues saying that he's pretty sure there's a season for tropical storms, and that this isn't it. Charlie says that he can have someone find out. Jed says it's not a big deal, but that he's sure it's strange. Charlie reminds him that the motorcade will leave for the National Cathedral in an hour. Jed mentions that the Washington Monument could be laid down on its side in the Cathedral. Charlie knew that. Jed, soberly: "We should try it." Charlie points out that Jed only has two meetings between now and then. He asks whether there's anything else he needs. Jed walks into the Oval Office, leaving Charlie at his desk: "I need pallbearers." The scene closes on a shot of Mrs. Landingham's unattended desk. While I'm thinking of it, can I just mention how great all the technical work on this show has been? Usually the recaps are all about the directing, the acting and especially the writing. But the sound, lighting, set design, camera, and editing people on this show kick ass too, and deserve serious props. Hell, I bet the craft service people are even the crème de la crème. I just didn't want to let this whole season go by without mentioning this. I'm sure I don't point it out often enough.
After the commercials, C.J.'s briefing reporters about Haiti. One reporter asks, "Does the fact that the OAS has passed a resolution allowing you to explore military options mean you've exhausted the diplomatic ones?" C.J. replies, "Of course it doesn't, but it should underline the consequences for Bazan should he decide to enter our embassy and/or arrest the democratically elected President of Haiti. That's all I have for now. Thank you." She moves off the dais and Carol asks for the AP, Reuters, and Agence France representatives to come with her. Out in the hall, Sam catches up to C.J. and says, "We've got a problem." C.J. sighs and says, "That's pretty hard to believe." He tells her they can't have the press conference in the East Room, because they've discovered asbestos there and have to seal it off. (I'm sure, whenever he gets a chance to watch this episode, Professor Frink will want to consider this a personal shout-out; he used to be involved in supervising asbestos removal for an environmental engineering firm, and he's quite apprehensive about it.) C.J., throwing her hand up: "There's been asbestos in the East Room this whole time?" They agree that Sam will put together a list of alternatives. C.J. makes her way back to her office, where the three reporters are waiting at her door with Carol. She invites them in. One of them says, "C.J., I don't have any problem with my seat on the plane." She tersely says, "Get inside." She waits at the door until they're all in, and then enters. The guy says he was just complaining that one time because he was in a bad mood. Sounds like somebody's worried he'll be sitting to the bathroom from now on. She says, "This isn't about seating arrangements. Notebooks, no tape recorders. This story's embargoed for an hour, and you'll identify me as a senior White House official." She closes the door.
In the Oval Office, there are two guys there with Jed and Leo. Leo's asking one of the guys, "Are we talking about the opening bell?" He replies, "That depends...when's it gonna leak?" Leo explains that C.J.'s leaking it that very moment. The guy replies, "Wall Street'll have it in an hour. In two hours, sellers will outnumber buyers." One of the French doors leading to the patio outside the Oval Office blows open. Jed excuses himself, telling them to keep going. He opens the door, leading to another shot of Mrs. Landingham's desk. Jed asks Charlie whether he knows why the door to the portico keeps blowing open. I'm going to take that as a personal shout-out, since I've had trouble for a while deciding on the appropriate architectural terminology for the covered area outside the Oval Office. Thank you, Aaron Sorkin. Anyway, Charlie explains that they're replacing the latch and that it's swinging open from the wind. Jed, nobody's fool, points out that the door opens out. Charlie further explains that when a certain sequence of doors is open in the White House, there's a wind tunnel into the Oval Office. Jed says, "No kidding!" He goes back into his office, where Leo and the two guys are continuing to fret about the stock market. Jed tells them about the broken latch and the wind-tunnel effect. Margaret comes in through Leo's door and says, "Mr. President?" Looks like the motorcade's ready. Everyone's in black suits, and everyone looks to Jed for direction. Jed puts his glasses in his shirt pocket and says, "Okay. Well, we've got to go. I don't know what to say. Leo's pretty rich. Maybe he can buy some tech stocks and jack up the price." Leo tells the guys to keep him posted on the bellwethers. Leo goes over to Margaret, who's waiting by his door, and asks, "Is the First Lady meeting us in the car?" Margaret, by way of non sequitur, replies, "Yes. It's a non-denominational service." Jed, who's fastening the buttons on his shirt cuffs, asks Leo, "What'd she say?" Leo tells him the First Lady is meeting them in the car. Jed turns his back, flips his coat on over his head.
As the coat comes down, the scene changes to that of Young Jed doing exactly the same thing in an office at his private school. ["You know, I know they don't ever say it, but we do have to assume it's Exeter, right? Because it's in New Hampshire? Where else would Jed go? He only looks like John Irving's long-lost twin, for heaven's sake." -- Wing Chun] We can hear the sound of a manual typewriter in the back (a sound that is probably destined to become as unfamiliar and anachronistic as that of a butter churn). He tells someone, "It wasn't a non-denominational service." The voice of young Mrs. Landingham -- which bears a damn good resemblance to the voice of older Mrs. Landingham -- replies, "Of course it was." He says, "It wouldn't have felt non-denominational if you were Jewish." Mrs. Landingham says, "It was a non-denominational Christian service." I wonder how many more times I'm going to have to type "non-denominational." I keep typing "demoninational," which amuses me. (Get it? Demon in National? Never mind.) Jed points out that attendance at chapel is mandatory; Mrs. Landingham reasserts that it was a -- you know -- service. Jed argues that "Our Father" is not non-denominational. There's been much debate about the format and significance of this prayer in the forums, and I'm neither a Catholic nor an expert on matters Catholic, so I probably won't weigh in on this, except to say, I'm almost certain this flashback must be pre-Vatican II (1962-1965). Y'all can take it from there. Anyway, both Jed and Dolores are doing office work. The whole thing has that patented Josh-and-Donna feel to it (except it lacks that element of sexual tension) that I'm quite sure isn't accidental. Perhaps Sorkin is trying to underline Donna's similarity to Mrs.Landingham, and prepare us for the possibility of Donna's stepping into the role of secretary to the President? (But I think it's purely a coincidence that Jed and Dolores, and Josh and Donna, share the same pairs of initials.) Mrs. Landingham says, "Everyone says 'Our Father.'" Jed insists that Catholics don't: "Catholics don't say, 'For thine is the Kingdom, the Power and the Glory, forever and ever.' You know? I'm just saying." They start pedeconferencing as she asks, "Why do you work here?" Apparently he works there after class. She says she can't imagine that anyone in his family's there on work-study. Jed says he gets free tuition, so he thinks it's a good idea to give something back. She then asks why he calls his father "sir." Um, 'cause once upon a time it wasn't that unusual for every young whippersnapper to call just about every male adult "sir," even his father? Or, you know, get acquainted with the business end of a razor strop. (Maybe. I probably have no idea what I'm talking about. I was born the last year of Vatican II, what do I know?) Jed amiably asks, "Is this going to be a whole afternoon of questions?" She says he's been talking for quite some time. He replies, "I'm sorry. Am I boring you, Dolores?" She says, somewhat primly, "'Mrs. Landingham,' please." Jed offers, "My father's the Headmaster." She replies, "Yeah, but before he was your Headmaster, he was your father, right?" Jed says he doesn't want to make the other guys feel uncomfortable. She seems to accept this, although she still seems mystified as she takes off.
Back in the present, the motorcade is leaving the White House amidst the din of sirens and motorcycles. In the back of a limo, Jed sits to Abby. He stares distractedly out his window. Abby stares forward. She's in a black suit, accompanied by a pretty pimpin' black hat. She softly tells Jed that they released "the girl" from hospital this morning. Jed asks, without looking at her, "The driver?" Abby says yes, and indicates that the girl had fractured her wrist and has some stitches over her eye. Gee, that sounds rough. I think all drunk drivers should lose their licenses permanently, and those who commit vehicular homicide? Don't get me started. A long prison sentence, mandatory rehab, and a lifetime of required community service are just the beginning, as far I'm concerned. The other two passengers apparently have some scratches and bruises. Abby says it looks like she'll be charged with vehicular manslaughter. She'd better hope she doesn't end up in front of Judge Deborah. Jed says nothing, but keeps staring off into the distance. Abby seems discouraged by her inability to reach him or comfort him or engage him in any way at all. She tries another tack: "Frank Mitchell, Joanna, Bill Carney...they told me they were in meetings the whole morning." Jed absently agrees. She says, "The consensus seems to be that if you step back, and put your support behind Hoynes, there's a decent chance the Democrats can keep the White House." I'm sure she realizes that Jed's probably not amenable to being lobbied at this moment; at the same time, her saying this to him makes it evident to us that he probably still hasn't decided what he's doing, or if he has, he hasn't shared it with her. Jed says, "The world will rest easier." Abby looks like she's about to cry. He announces, "We're here," and the camera comes up on a view of this magnificent cathedral. Organ music plays as the motorcade pulls up and lets POTUS and FLOTUS out. We see Abby reach for his hand as they walk into the church; Jed lets her take it.
Inside the church, the lighting is just fantastic; it's absolutely of cinematographic quality. The impossibly high arches of the cathedral lead the eye to an enormous, beautiful rose window above the entrance. Most of the congregants are already seated; Abby and Jed walk to the front of the room. She's wearing her usual four- or five-inch spike heels and a pretty tightly-fitting, short-skirted curvy suit for a First Lady to be wearing to a funeral, to say nothing of the aforementioned pimpin' hat. She looks much more like she's attending the spring fashion shows in Paris than the funeral of a dear family friend and employee. Once they're seated, the clergyman begins, "'"I am the Resurrection and I am Life," says the Lord. "Whoever believes in Me shall live, even though he die."' God of Mercy, You are the hope of sinners, the joy of saints. We pray for our sister Dolores whose body we honour with Christian burial." The camera is showing us shots of all the various staff members. Margaret has seen fit, for reasons best known to her and God, to wear a hat, which, combined with the new haircut, makes me think of the storybook character Madeleine for some reason. "Give her happiness with Your saints, and raise up her body with the saints at the Last Day to be in Your presence forever." I'm stunned by how beautiful and natural the light in the church looks; it's one of the best lighting jobs I've ever seen on television. "As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last, He will stand upon the Earth..." The camera lingers on Jed's unbearably sad expression, and we hear the young Mrs. Landingham calling Jed's name. The clergyman continues, "After my awaking, He will raise me up, and in my body, I shall see God, and my eyes behold Him who is my friend..."
We drift out, along with Jed, back to 1950- or 60-whatever. He's hosing down some watercraft -- sculls if I don't miss my guess -- when Mrs. Landingham comes up to him. He says, "I'm trying to do an honest day's work, Mrs. Landingham." She points out a spot he missed. He says he didn't miss it, he just hasn't gotten to it yet. The voice of the actor playing young Mrs. Landingham is so dead-on I have to look closely to convince myself she's not lip-synching. He tells her, "You have a habit of doing that, you know?" She asks, "What's that?" He replies, "Telling me I'm doing something wrong before I've had a chance to do it at all." She brightly says, "Well, that must be a little annoying." He agrees. She announces she has a project for him: "You can show the courage and intellect and leadership skills everyone talks about." He says he's a bit busy hosing down the boats. She says, "You know the women who work at this school are paid less money than the men?" He didn't actually know that. She asks, "You think your father does?" For what it's worth, I think his father knows, and moreover, I'd bet anything you want that he doesn't give a damn.
Fading back to the funeral, the clergyman is saying, "First reading will be from Mr. Charles Young," and for a moment I don't even realize he means Charlie, because he's so rarely called "Charles." It's from the third chapter of the Book of Wisdom. Charlie slowly makes his way to the pulpit...
...as we fade back to young Jed and Dolores, on a different day. She comes up to him between classes and says she wants a chance to make her case. She's so Donna in this scene. He says she's been raising the issue for a week now. She replies, "I can tell it's had quite an effect on you." He asks, "Don't you have a husband?" She wants to know what that has to do with anything. Jed: "I'm saying, shouldn't you maybe go home when you're done with work?" She asks, "Shouldn't you be minding your own business?" He says, "I just thought, since you're minding everybody else's..." Dolores: "What is that supposed to mean?" Jed: "In my family, we don't talk about money." Dolores: "That's because you have money." Burn! He says, "Numbers, Mrs. Landingham. If you want to convince me of something, show me numbers!" They're in a walkway with a Gothic-style arch. The religious school setting and architecture make for a smoother shift between the flashbacks and the funeral. Jed walks away and Dolores exits to our left.
The camera drifts across a thick, grey stone wall and comes to rest on Charlie, standing at the pulpit, reading, "But the souls of the virtuous are the hands of God. No torment shall ever touch them." The camera lingers again on Jed's sorrowful face. "In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, but they are at peace. For though in the sight of others they were punished, their hope is full of immortality." The shot changes abruptly to one from high up, looking down on Charlie and the congregation, and fades out to commercial so quickly I'm left wondering about that particular directorial decision. It was rather jarring and out of keeping with the rest of the show.
We come up on a shot of an old car I should probably recognize the make and model of, but don't, and a 1960 New Hampshire license plate. So now we know it's at least 1960. Mrs. Landingham wanders up to another big boat of a vehicle, which Jed is trying unsuccessfully to start, and helpfully says, "Your car won't start!" Yup. Leaning in the window, she asks, "What's wrong with it?" Jed replies, "It's possibly the starter motor or the fan belt." Mrs. Landingham: "Do you know anything about cars?" He admits he doesn't. Mrs. Landingham: "Then how do you know...?" Jed: "'Cause those are the two things I've heard of." Frustrated, he gets out of the car to look at the motor. It's some sort of universal male gesture, I guess; even a man who has just admitted that he doesn't know anything about cars apparently expects to open the hood and stare at the inner workings and somehow divine the problem. She leans on the car and says, "You fix your car and pretend you're not listening; I'm just gonna stand here and talk to you 'cause I know you are." Jed pretends to wonder what she could possibly want. She cheerfully says, "I've got numbers." Jed: "There's something abnormal about you." She begins citing chapter and verse on the tenure and salaries of various male and female employees at the school.
We fade back to the cathedral, where everyone is reciting a prayer together. The organ plays Mozart's "Requiem" (or so the closed captioning claims; I'm really not a fan of Mozart), and the processional starts. Toby, Sam, two guys we don't know, Josh, and Charlie are the pallbearers. They approach the casket, lift it, and follow the clergyman down the aisle.
Back to young Dolores still firing numbers at Jed, who's still fooling around with his engine. Jed points out that Mrs. Chadwick is a married woman with no dependents and Mr. Hopkins has a family of four to support. Dolores counters, "If we paid people according to how many children they had to support, then Malcolm Bundy, the groundskeeper, would get triple what the Headmaster gets." Jed: "Mrs. Landingham..." Dolores: "You know I'm right." He tries again; she insists: "You know I'm right. You've known it since I brought it up. You've known it since before that." He wants to know what she wants him to do about it. She wants him to bring it up with his father.
Jed: I'm not a woman and I don't work here.
Dolores: The women who do are afraid for their jobs. If they bring it up, they're afraid for their jobs. What is it you're afraid of?
Jed: Why do you talk to me like this?
Dolores: Because you never had a big sister and you need one. Look at you. You're a boy king. You're a foot smarter than the smartest kids in the class. You're blessed with inspiration. You must know this by now; you must have sensed it. Look, if you think we're wrong, if you think Mr. Hopkins should honestly get paid more than Mrs. Chadwick, then I respect that. But if you think we're right, and you won't speak up 'cause you can't be bothered, then, God, Jed, I don't even want to know you. Come inside. I'll call Triple-A.
Dolores walks toward the building as Jed sticks his hands in his pockets and muses, "Miss Mueller gets half as much to teach music as Mr. Ryan does to coach crew?" He kind of smiles to himself. She looks at him and says, "You're gonna do it." He replies, "Oh, I didn't say that." She confidently crosses her arms and says, "Yes, you did." He wonders when. She says, "Just then. You stuck your hands in your pockets, you looked away, and you smiled." He reflexively removes his hands from his pockets. She claims that the pockets/look/smile sequence of gestures means that he made up his mind; he denies that it means anything, and claims he just stuck his hands in his pockets. She adds, "And looked away, and smiled." She's beaming. She says, as she walks away, "We're in." Jed heaves the car hood closed.
We cut back to Jed standing in the rapidly emptying cathedral, bitterly staring ahead. Leo ambles over to him, from where he had been chatting with Abby, and gently says, "It was a beautiful service, I thought. I thought it was a beautiful service." Jed, still staring, still looking pissed: "Yeah." Leo: "She was a real dame, old friend, a real broad." Jed agrees. Leo quietly says that they have to go back to the office now. Jed asks Leo do to him a favour, and have the agents seal the cathedral for a minute. Leo looks slightly concerned but agrees, of course, and goes off to do his bidding.
Jed stands in the aisle as the huge heavy doors all bang shut. He stares toward the front of the church with an angry look. Finally, he begins what will probably be remembered as one of television's most powerful diatribes against God: "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?" He starts walking slowly toward the front of the church. "She bought her first new car and you hit her with a drunk driver. What, is that supposed to be funny? 'You can't conceive, nor can I, the appalling strangeness of the mercy of God,' says Graham Greene. I don't know whose ass he was kissing there, 'cause I think you're just vindictive. What was Josh Lyman, a warning shot? That was my son." His voice wavers slightly on the word "son." "What did I ever do to yours but praise his glory and praise his name? There's a tropical storm that's gaining speed and power. They say we haven't had a storm this bad since you took out that tender ship of mine in the north Atlantic last year. Sixty-eight crew. You know what a tender ship does? Fixes the other ships. Doesn't even carry guns. Just goes around fixing other ships and delivers the mail. That's all it can do. Gratias tibi ago, domine. Yes, I lied. It was a sin. I've committed many sins. Have I displeased you, you feckless thug? Three point eight million jobs, that wasn't good? Bailed out Mexico, increased foreign trade, thirty million new acres of land for conservation, put Mendoza on the bench, we're not fighting a war, I've raised three children." He ascends a short set of stairs. "That's not enough to buy me out of the doghouse? Haec credam a deo pio? A deo iusto, a deo scito? Cruciatus in crucem. Tuus in terra servus, nuntius fui. Officium perfeci. Cruciatus in crucem. Eas in crucem!" I feel the viewing audience shuddering; you'd have to be kind of thick, even if you don't know a word of Latin (which was not subtitled), not to get the gist of what he just said. Jed descends the stairs, pauses, lights the cigarette he was carrying around, and takes a puff. He chucks it contemptuously on the floor and mashes it out with his foot. He turns and glances toward the front of the church again, and angrily announces, "You get Hoynes!" He turns and walks out of the church, as the camera slowly rises to focus on the large rose window, which one journalist likened to the "eye of God."
This would be a good time to go to commercial, which would give you all the chance to run for your Latin dictionaries. You say you don't have one? And you call yourselves geeks. Well, there's no commercial anyway, so let me help you out. Here's the official translation provided. Gratias tibi ago, domine means "I give thanks to you, O Lord." The other Latin sentences can be rendered as follows: "Am I really to believe that these are the acts of a loving God? A just God? A wise God? To hell with your punishments. I was your servant here on Earth. And I spread your word and I did your work. To hell with your punishments. To hell with you." Probably a smart move to have Bartlet say it in Latin; imagine the increased flak from various religious zealots if he'd said it in English. One MBTV user posted an alternate translation for Officium perfeci: "I have finished my service," or possibly even "I have ended my allegiance [to You]." In so many ways and for so many reasons, the choice to use Latin here was brilliant, not just because I'm a big geek who loves Latin, but also because it offers the potential for varying translations, because it evokes Jed's history as someone who was studying to be a priest, because it points to the strength of the foundation of his faith, and because it shows so much respect for the audience's intelligence level. It's a courageous and appropriate artistic choice, like the episode's twenty-second shot of Leo's silent reaction to the news of Mrs. Landingham's death. Okay, I'll stop with the Latin already. One last thing: if you love the use of spoken Latin in modern art, and God knows there's a paucity of it, you must check out Derek Jarman's film Sebastiane. It's a homoerotic version of the story of St. Sebastian entirely in Latin. It's not for children, so don't come crying to me if it rattles your religious sensibilities or something.
Oh yeah, the show. Well, we're in Toby's office with the Four Musketeers, all of whom are in understandably grim moods. C.J. says, "We'll call them 'Answer A' and 'Answer B.' 'Mr. President, does this mean you won't be seeking a second term?' Answer A is, 'You bet! I will absolutely be seeking a second term. I'm looking forward to the campaign. There is great work that is yet to be done.' Answer B..." Josh lets it rip: "'Are you out of your mind? I can't possibly win re-election. I lied about a degenerative illness. I'm the target of a Grand Jury investigation and Congress is about to take me out to lunch. I'd sooner have my family take their clothes off and dance the tarantella on the Truman Balcony than go through a campaign with this around my neck.'" C.J. sips some bottled water and looks at Josh, who asks, "You think that's too on the nose?" C.J. says, "I do." Sam tries again to bring up his plan of abandoning the whole thing. C.J. asks why he's bringing this up again; Sam says, "Because I got shouted down the first three times and I work here just like you do. Can I help you?" C.J. looks slightly taken aback; it's not like Sam to be so snippy. She says, "Sorry." Sam says he thinks they have to explore ways of calling this off. Sam, dude, let it go. Do you not understand that this cat is out of the bag? This cat is out of the neighbourhood. It's too late! Can of worms, Pandora's box...pick a metaphor, any metaphor and get it through your head. Toby says, "Sam..." Sam isn't listening to me or Toby. Always a mistake. He thinks it might be a mistake to send him out there at a moment when...he doesn't finish his thought, but suddenly explodes, "We don't know what the hell they're talking about in there, Toby! We don't know whether he's running or not! I think we have to..." Toby simply says, "There are no ways. The story's leaked, it's out there, we're doing this. Don't worry. It's going to be fine." He adds, by way of non sequitur, "They're lighting him outside the window." Ginger sticks her head in to tell him his 4:00 PM appointment has arrived. Toby rubs his forehead and says, "I have a meeting, believe it or not, with Greg Summerhayes, for reasons passing understanding."
Sam, Josh, and C.J. leave and Summerhayes comes in. It's some HITG! whose name, naturally, I can't think of or never knew in the first place. I know I've seen him a bunch of things though. (Helpful, huh?) Wing probably knows who he is. ["Indeed I do: Don McManus. He was Duncan Meyer, Jerry's high-school nemesis, in the Seinfeld episode when Jerry dates a chick named Lois, and he's had small roles in movies like Hannibal and Magnolia, but he's probably best known for his recurring role as Erick, who owned a hotel with his boyfriend Ron, on Northern Exposure." -- Wing Chun] Greg makes some condolatory small talk about Mrs. Landingham and then comes to the point: he's starting a new twenty-four-hour cable news channel and wants Toby to be his news director. Toby's expression is a mixture of confusion and amusement, and he says, "Uh...okay..." He exhales a short, sharp sigh and says, "Thanks for coming in."
Donna comes into Josh's office and softly says that it was a nice service. Josh agrees. She says she's going to go to the OEOB to get some information on the storm for POTUS. Her voice is all raspy, like she's been crying and hasn't had enough sleep and is maybe coming down with something. Donna asks, "Josh, can this really be how it works? We have no idea if he's gonna run again...he's in a room with Leo making a decision? Two people in a matter of minutes? Is this how it works?" Josh: "It's how it works today." His phone rings and she answers it for him, saying it's Leo. Josh turns and looks at her holding the phone.
Toby bursts through a door and zooms through an office area; somebody says, "Toby?" but Toby just keeps walking and holds up his hand, saying, "Don't anybody talk to me right now." He marches indignantly into Josh's office bellowing, "Greg Summerhayes was here to offer me a job! Leo got me a lifeboat! I'm going to rip his arms off and beat with his own..." Josh is just hanging up the phone and gestures to Toby to calm down, telling him that was Leo, and they have to go to his office. "It's 'Answer B.'" Toby pauses, looking distressed, and then follows Josh down the hall. Then some loud blaring commercials come on and more or less destroy the tense mood.
When the show returns, it's a dark and stormy night. No, really. I know, it seems a little like overkill, doesn't it? But the show's so good that we forgive these little dramatic excesses. Or at least, I do. A TV announcer is stating that POTUS and FLOTUS have just concluded their interview, and that POTUS is expected at the State Department for a press conference. Leo leads POTUS into what I think is Leo's office, but it looks unfamiliar due to the angle; we're looking in through the door from across the hall. Leo suggests that he sit down, close his eyes for a few minutes, and that Charlie will come get him when it's time. We only see the back of Jed's head. As Leo leaves and closes the door, we can hear audio from one of the monitors, providing a fragment of the interview: "I began experiencing blurred vision and numbness in my legs. Two years and many tests later, I was diagnosed with a course of relapsing remitting multiple sclerosis." We cut to a shot of Toby watching this clip on television. Leo comes in, asking, "Where's C.J.?" Toby says she ran back to her office. Toby says, "They're gonna run this clip forever." Leo says, "No, we're about to give 'em clips to beat it." Toby looks at him with a combination of skepticism and apprehension. He says, "Leo, you got me a lifeboat?" Leo admits it. Toby inquires, "Did you imagine that there were any circumstances under which I would use it?" Leo says he didn't, and that he only did it "to show him that." Toby's expression indicates that he hadn't considered that possible reason. Leo walks out, saying, "C.J.'s in her office?" Toby says, "You think he's going to change his mind, don't you?" Leo kind of nonchalantly says, "Hmm?" Toby asks again. The camera's focused on Toby so we can only see a blurry image of Leo. Leo repeats, "C.J.'s in her office?" Toby says, "Yeah."
Jed's looking out Leo's window at the storm. He's wearing an outfit that evokes his private-school uniform: navy blazer, pale blue shirt, diagonally-striped tie. A wee bit anvilly, but I can live with it. It's a lot more subtle than the cyclone. Margaret knocks and confirms that he wanted to see Donna Moss, and then shows her in. I -- and a lot of other viewers, if I don't miss my guess -- think for a moment that he's going to talk to her about taking over for Mrs. Landingham. He doesn't, after all, but I still think this is a possible story line. It would get her out of working for Josh (something for which I've been agitating for some months now), and still keep her in a key role. She comes in beaming and says, "Good evening, sir." She volunteers, "We all thought you did very well." Jed says, "That was the easy part." Donna says, "Didn't look that easy." He tells her to talk about the weather. Donna sits down and recites, "A tropical storm is a cyclone in which the maximum sustained surface speed of the wind is thirty-four nautical miles per hour." I stop for a moment to get the poop on nautical miles versus statute miles and kilometres from Professor Frink. He gives me a quick answer (tells me that it's about sixty-four kilometres an hour), and I, slightly amazed to have gotten a mere thirty-second explanation, go back to working on the recap. But wait, no, here he is, coming down the stairs and into my office. He's got his wallet in hand and he pulls out a tattered piece of ancient-looking cardboard the size of a credit card. He offers it to me, showing me on the back a chart with three columns, indicating the descriptive term (such as "moderate winds") and effects that correspond to various wind speeds. I turn the card over; it says "Haileybury School of Mines" (a school he never attended, mind you) on it, and has another chart of the relationship between wind speed and temperature, which seems to present what we now call wind chill factor, but is not so named on this card. I ask him why he has this, particularly in his wallet, though I should know better than to ask such questions by now. He pulls out another little card that has the ASL alphabet on it and another one with the Periodic Table of Elements, and says, "For the same reason I have these." I think, because you haven't got enough stuff to carry around. You should see all the crap he lugs around. He used to carry a planisphere at all times in his knapsack. But, you know, it's a large part of why I love him. I ask, "Can I keep this card and write about it in my recap?" He says, in a little-boy voice, "You're going to make fun of me, aren't you?" I admit, "Just a little." He goes away pouting, "Fine." On his way upstairs, he promises to get me an exact conversion for thirty-four nautical miles. I tell him I'll breathlessly await that. Meanwhile, I read the back of the card, which indicates that winds of sixty-four kilometres an hour are gale force winds which have the following effects: "Breaks twigs off trees; walking made difficult; slight structural damage occurs, e.g. to roofing shingles, TV antennae, etc.; blowing snow reduces..." and the last word is, amusingly (to me, anyway), rendered nearly unreadable from rubbing and tattering, but I can just barely interpolate it: "visibility." Frink shouts down that it's actually 62.9 miles, so I'm impressed that he estimated sixty-four. Anyway, Sorkin and Schlamme are no pikers when it comes to bringing the Sturm und Drang. I wonder if they have a budget line for "pathetic fallacy." Jesus, where were we? I've just about digressed past my deadline here. Donna was dropping science on storms for POTUS. He confirms that there's a season for such storms, and she indicates that it's June 1 through November 30. He asks, "How many times, say, in the last hundred years, has a tropical storm come up the Atlantic seaboard to Washington in the middle of May?" Donna says that it hasn't happened in the last century, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. At all. Someone knocks; it's C.J. He thanks Donna and she leaves. He may not have offered her the job yet, but the whole thing had the feel of an interview.
Jed tells C.J. that the NOAA says the storm is a non-recurring phenomenon, which is "science's term for 'we don't know what in the world is going on but we're stocking up on canned goods.'" C.J.'s unspoken reaction is, "Whatever; dude, you need to focus." She says that she just wanted to review a few things. Jed wonders whether this is stuff she thinks he can't remember from an hour ago. She just lets that go and tells him to take his first question from Lawrence Altman, who is the Times Chief Medical Correspondent, because if he calls on anyone else, it will be a question about re-election. Altman will ask a medical question as well as two or three follow-ups and that will give him a chance to get comfortable. She tells him Altman will be in the front row, first seat on his right. Jed paces a bit. She watches him and, concerned that he's not really listening to her, asks, "Mr. President? Where's Altman going to be?" He's a little irritated, but more in a way that indicates weariness rather than anger. She reminds him this is the last time she'll see him before he goes out there. He says kind of gruffly, "Front row, first seat on the right." C.J.: "Whose right?" Jed: "My right."
C.J. leaves as Jed drifts off into another flashback. There's a hand knocking on a door. It's Young Jed. His father's voice invites him into what must be either his father's office or study. Bartlet Senior reads, "'If you hide your ignorance no one will hit you and you will never learn.' Is this your quote?" He's sitting in a big leather club chair holding what looks like the school newspaper. Jed starts saying that he wanted to talk to Dad about something to do with salaries that he perhaps wasn't aware of, but his father's not listening and just repeats, "Is this your quote? 'If you hide your ignorance no one will hit you and you will never learn.'" Jed says it's actually Ray Bradbury. Dad: "And you quoted Ray Bradbury?" Jed says yes. Dad: "In an article you and your friends wrote condemning Professor Loomis?" Jed: "For banning certain books from the library, yes." Dad priggishly says, "He's a professor of literature." Jed points out he banned Henry Miller: "He banned D.H. Lawrence. Giovanni's Room because it's 'too homosexual.'" Old Man Prig says, "Stop it right now. You're a guest at this school." Jed replies, "I'm a student at this school. He banned Fahrenheit 451, which is about banning books!" Dad gets up. "Was that supposed to be funny? That word play you just did there, was that meant to be funny?" Actually it wasn't supposed to be anything; it just is ironic. But clearly Dad isn't the brightest bulb in the pack. Jed stands up and starts to explain himself, but his father just takes the rolled-up paper and cracks him across the face with it, thereby proving Bradbury right in the process. His father asks whether there was anything else. His face still turned away from the blow, Jed responds, "It's not a non-denominational service." His father throws one hand up and says, "Don't start with this!" Jed points out, "Catholics don't believe man is saved through faith alone. Catholics believe faith has to be joined with good works." His father claims that Jed's the only one who seems to mind the service. Jed replies, "I'm the only one who's Catholic." His father says, "You're Catholic because your mother is and you're at this school because I'm the Headmaster. How's that for clever with words?" Not that great, actually, Dad. He sits down and asks what it was Jed came in to talk to him about. Jed says it was nothing, and leaves. His father asks him to close the door behind him.
As Young Jed does, we cut back to Contemporary Jed entering the Oval Office and closing the door between his office and Leo's, looking even more solemn than he has of late, if that's possible. He wanders over to his desk, lit intermittently by the lightning, and leans over it. Just then the door to the portico flies open and he bellows in habitual irritation: "Dammit! Mrs. Landingham!" Then he remembers. He goes over to close the door himself, as older Mrs. Landingham (or rather, her ghost, I guess) comes in through the door nearest her old desk. The door stays open, so the wind keeps howling around them. She says, "I really wish you wouldn't shout, Mr. President," and ribs him about being unable to learn how to use the intercom. She smiles indulgently at him. He confesses, "I have MS and I didn't tell anybody." She knows: "So you're having a little bit of a day." He asks whether she's going to make jokes. She reproaches him, "God doesn't make cars crash and you know it. Stop using me as an excuse." He says the party's not going to want him to run. She assures him that the party will come back. He sits down and says, "I got a secret for you, Mrs. Landingham. I've never been the most popular guy in the Democratic Party." She sits down as she says, "I've got a secret for you, Mr. President. Your father was a prick who could never get over the fact that he wasn't as smart as his brothers." (Or his son, hmm?) I feel America blanching at the sound of Mrs. Landingham saying "prick." Not much of a secret, either, Mrs. Landingham. She continues, "Are you in a tough spot? Yes. Do I feel sorry for you? I do not. Why? Because there are people way worse off than you." He looks like he wants the ass-kicking she can so clearly give him, and for which he came to count on her. She regards him with a pitiless gaze. They both pause for a moment. He says, "Give me numbers."
Mrs. Landingham : I don't know numbers. You give them to me.
Jed: How about a child born in this minute has a one in five chance of being born into poverty?
Mrs. Landingham: How many Americans don't have health insurance?
Jed: Forty-four million.
Mrs L: What's the number one cause of death for black men under thirty-five?
Jed: Homicide.
Mrs L: How many Americans are behind bars?
Jed: Three million.
Mrs L: How many Americans are drug addicts?
Jed: Five million.
Mrs L: And one in five kids in poverty?
Jed: That's thirteen million American children. Three and a half million kids go to schools that are literally falling apart. We need a hundred and twenty-seven billion in school construction and we need it today. [At this point, there's a brief shot of the room from above, showing Jed sitting across from an empty chair, talking to himself.]
Mrs L: To say nothing of fifty-three people trapped in an embassy.
Jed: Yes!
Mrs. Landingham: You know, if you don't want to run again, I respect that. But if you don't run because you think it's gonna be too hard or you think you're gonna lose, well, God, Jed, I don't even want to know you.
Mrs. Landingham gets up and walks out. The portico door is still open; Jed looks up and walks toward it. He steps out into the pouring rain; a symbolic washing away of his sins, perhaps? A rebaptism? All I know is, he's going to look one hell of a mess at this press conference. C.J.'s gonna be so mad. The strains of a Dire Straits song begin. Charlie comes up the portico with a hooded raincoat on, holding out a coat for the President to put on, telling him it's time to go. Jed wanders in through a different door and Charlie, puzzled by his refusal to put on the coat, follows him in. Charlie tosses the President's coat on his desk, and then takes off his own, tossing it on top.
As the President strides out to his limousine, with Charlie, Leo, Sam, Josh, Toby, and numerous Secret Service agents accreting to him as he goes, the lyrics of the song "Brothers in Arms" begin: "These mist-covered mountains/ Are a home now for me/ But my home is the lowlands/ And always will be/ Some day you'll return to/ Your valleys and your farms/ And you'll no longer burn/ To be brothers in arms."
We hear C.J. assuring a very large crowd of reporters that the President will address their questions as soon as he arrives. We cut back and forth between Jed and his staff getting into the motorcade and C.J. fielding questions: "Through these fields of destruction/ Baptisms of fire/ I've witnessed your suffering/ As the battles raged higher/ And though they did hurt me so bad/ In the fear and alarm/ You did not desert me/ My brothers in arms." In the back of the limo, Jed looks much less sad and more determined; Leo tries to read his expression but they do not speak.
C.J. tells the clamouring crowd of reporters that a list of prosecutors is given to a three-judge panel, and that the prosecutors as well as the panel were all appointed by Republican Presidents. The reporters shout and compete for C.J.'s attention; over the din, C.J. shouts, "Please! I can only answer fourteen or fifteen questions at once!" On paper it has the sound of her usual snappy patter, but you can hear the strain in her voice. Donna and Margaret arrive at the press conference, looking stunned at the commotion.
At the National Cathedral, a janitor is cleaning the floor in a dim light. Of course, it only reminds me of the janitor in the Nirvana video for "Smells Like Teen Spirit," which provides me with a minimal amount of unintended levity. The janitor finds Jed's cigarette butt and stoops to pick it up, puzzled. He looks up and out the door as a car with sirens blazing passes; it could be the motorcade, although the cathedral is not en route from the White House to the State Department. Jed could have requested that the motorcade pass the Cathedral, and his sidelong glance out the window at this point would seem to support this theory. "There's so many different worlds/ So many different suns/ And we have just one world/ But we live in different ones."
Back at the press conference, C.J. is saying she imagines subpoenas will be issued to most senior White House staff, including her. As the motorcade arrives at the State Department, Jed gets a bit more of a soaking. As they walk into the building, someone hands Jed a towel to wipe his face. "Now the sun's gone to hell/ And the moon's riding high/ Let me bid you farewell/ Every man has to die..." C.J. is telling the reporters that she can't comment on what kind of hearings Congress has in mind as Carol sees Jed and the boys coming and gives C.J. the nod that POTUS has arrived. C.J. announces, "Okay? Here now, the President of the United States." Everybody stands. "But it's written in the starlight/ And every line on your palm/ We're fools to make war/ On our brothers in arms." It's really quite a beautiful song, and I know the use of pop music in such high-quality dramas is controversial, but I think the creative minds behind this show always give it a great deal of thought, and are selective and restrained in their choices. As Jed passes C.J., she reminds him, "Front row, on your right." Jed takes the podium, looking literally weatherbeaten and quite determined. Amid a volley of flashbulb fire, Jed puts his arms up on the podium, catching his breath, steeling himself. He makes eye contact with Lawrence Altman, the Chief Medical Correspondent for the Times. He looks into the crowd and points to another reporter, saying, "Yes, Sandy?" C.J. looks slightly anxious but not altogether surprised. Sandy asks, "Mr. President, can you tell us right now if you'll be seeking a second term?" He pauses, and says, "I'm sorry, Sandy, there was a bit of noise there, could you repeat the question?" Charlie watches Jed intently. Sandy: "Can you tell us right now if you'll be seeking a second term?" C.J., Josh, and Sam are standing together; none of them breathes. Donna and Margaret don't either. Leo and Toby are watching on a monitor off to the side, and Leo turns toward the President and tells Toby, "Watch this." Jed's hands slide off the podium and into his pockets. He looks ever so slightly off to his left, and smiles the barest of smiles. As the storm rages on, he looks straight ahead at the crowd. There are some droplets on his face; probably both rain and sweat, at this point. The guitar refrain continues. Still, he says nothing. The lines around his eyes are crinkled and there's a gleam in his eye. He smiles a very little smile.