Slow News Day

Props to Miss Alli for covering the two episodes for me, especially the feculent bigotry of "The Stormy Present." I hope by now you've been able to wash the taste out of your mouth, Miss A.

2:47 AM. Toby's in bed -- alone -- and unable to sleep. It's raining, and it's also unusually bright outside. I immediately start wondering if Toby's in the dream house, because this room -- with its huge window and incredibly substantial window frames -- really looks like it would belong in that house. If it's not, this is one pretty fabulous apartment Toby's got. Would he really have moved into that huge house all alone, especially after Andi spurned him? How depressing. I still would like to know how the hell he afforded it. He gets up out of bed. Toby wears a t-shirt to bed, for those who are keeping track. It is not, so far as I can tell, a TWoP T-shirt. Loser.

Toby arrives at his office. It's 3:06 AM. Geez, that was fast. Nineteen minutes? Come on. It probably takes the President that long to get dressed, brush his teeth, and walk down to the Oval Office from the Residence. Longer, if Abby's there to harangue him about something. It's not like Toby threw on trainers and a t-shirt, TWoP or otherwise -- he's dressed for work, in a business suit. Whatever. His monitor's already on as he enters the office, with a White House logo screensaver on it. But from a distance, it looks like something else. Frink: "Hey! He's watching American Idol on his PC." Toby puts a tape in his VCR; it's Jed's State of the Union address. Frink: "Whaddya know, POTUS is just as boring on TV." ["But is he about to bust out 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,' by Beyonc?" -- Wing Chun] I guess since Toby couldn't sleep, he knew where to go for a little soporific. Toby fast-forwards it to a section where Jed boldly suggests raising the minimum wage: "So that work always pays more than welfare." A bunch of very well-paid old white guys applaud; one guy even stands up. Damn, that's conviction. Toby pauses the tape and stares at it.

The phone rings, waking Josh -- also sleeping alone, and wearing a t-shirt, for those keeping track -- out of a sound sleep. Also not wearing a TWoP shirt. Loser. I realize that the brights lights who produce this show now seem to think that what it needs is "eye candy" like Swimtern (meh) and Rina (whatever), but I do think they underestimate just how much many viewers would like to see Brad Whitford with his shirt off. Maybe they're saving that for the big consummation with Donna. If it ever happens. (Actually, if/when it does, I expect it will be about as explicit and racy as a Baptist picnic -- despite Josh and Donna's chemistry. And yes, I know from Baptist picnics.) Also, Josh has got one godawful ugly comforter. It's one of those where the graphics look like something you'd see on a Kleenex box. Yecch. He throws the pillow off his face, knocking something over, and answers the phone. Toby instantly blurts out a question about how much money some guy named Gaines had in the last FEC filing period. Here's a tip: phone me in the middle night and ask me something like that, and the answer's going to be something like "Go fuck yourself." I suppose that's just the sort of thing keeping me from making those big public-servant bucks, though. If you phone me in the middle of the night, somebody better have died, and better still, left me a pile of money. Josh mumbles that he had $310,000. Toby: "Almost nothing." Toby lapses into thought and absently hangs the phone up on Josh as Josh is mumbling that it's not an election year. Yeah, I think the time Josh sees Toby, he should punch Toby right in the mouth.

Shot of the lobby. Toby marches through on his way to grab a hefty tome called Social Security from a shelf, along with some other material and some coffee. Back through the lobby, past a security guard who appears to be a temp from Madame Tussaud's. Is it a good idea to have wax dummies looking after the White House? Well, I suppose if they're allowed to run the country, what the heck. Toby pores over the material, and then rings up Charlie, who's also sleeping. Can't really see if he's alone, though. He, too, is in a t-shirt. And not a TWoP shirt. All together now: Loser. I don't believe Charlie wears anything to bed, anyway, and I'm ignoring all evidence to the contrary. Toby wants to know what time POTUS's wake-up call is; Charlie tells him it's at 5:45. That's probably AM, people, though there are no helpful title cards to get my back here. Toby says he'll make the call, and suggests that Charlie sleep in. Yeah, you get your rest. You're gonna need it so you can punch Toby in the mouth the time you see him. Also, you need to go buy yourself a non-ugly comforter, too.

Another shot of Toby killing time in the empty office, tossing his little red ball into garbage cans. It's 5:11 AM. He does this until the clock registers 5:45 AM. exactly. Fortunately, they don't show us those thirty-four minutes. He dials POTUS and asks if he has Prince Albert in a can.

Jed -- probably sleeping alone -- answers the phone and says, "Charlie, we're going to surgically implant a snooze button. It won't hurt much." Jed's wearing pyjamas, so he's not a loser, since Glarkware doesn't make TWoP jammies. Frink: "Bartlet's hair is perfect, even in bed. That's some Presidential-level gel." Toby explains who it is. Jed: "If they're not giving you enough to do down there...." Toby: "I know this sounds crazy, but I think we have two weeks...a two-week window...I need to see you alone right now, because if I'm right about this...." Jed replies: "Toby, I'm a somewhat happily married man...." No, he doesn't; he says he doesn't know what Toby's on about. Toby: "I think I know how we can save Social Security." If the plan starts with "kill all the politicians," I'm listening. Credits.

6:15 AM. I think they're in the study in the Residence. Jed's in his robe, glancing at the morning papers as Toby says he thinks Gaines is leaving the Senate, because he's not raising money. He adds, "Because he was the only Republican to stand up and applaud a minimum wage hike at the State of the Union. Gaines, breaking rank, over the AFL-CIO's top issue." Jed: "You think he'll announce his retirement?" Toby says that the Illinois GOP dinner is in two weeks: "If I'm right, he'll announce his intentions there; always has." Toby explains that Gaines has been a leader on this issue for decades, and that he chairs the Social Security Subcommittee: "Get him and a leading Democrat to agree on a fix, bring the House guys along, before anyone knows he's a lame duck. This just might be the break we need." Jed: "To save Social Security?" Toby confirms this. Jed: "This is right after we colonize Ontario?" Shout-out? Maybe. I'll stick my neck out here and speak on behalf of Ontarians: we're not really interested in being the fifty-first state, thanks. You might be able to convince Toronto, though. ["If it means we get more Lean Cuisine options at Dominion as I can find at Wegman's, I'm willing to hear arguments." -- Wing Chun] Toby wants to talk about reality: "More college kids think they'll see UFOs than Social Security cheques." Jed: "But they don't tell you how many believe in UFOs; that's the number we ought to be worried about." Toby says that the number of retirees is going to double, and if they don't do something, the trust fund will go broke. Jed: "One Senator's retirement means we can save it?" Toby's all gung ho about Gaines. Jed says that Republicans will want to divert a chunk of Social Security into private investment: "Think Democrats will go along with that?" Toby: "I'm not saying there aren't sticking points." Jed: "More like Krazy Glue. Think Republicans'll raise payroll taxes?" Toby thinks it has to be discussed. Toby doesn't really have all the details worked out. This is really a pretty flimsy and uninspired plan so far. Jed: "'Cause you can't save Social Security without cutting benefits or raising taxes, and this is the largest meeting in Washington where anyone's ever admitted it."

Jed goes back to his paper as Toby asks, "When Social Security goes bankrupt, are we going to call that a benefit cut?" Jed gives Toby a look. Toby: "Let's talk to Gaines." Jed: "If it becomes public we've even discussed this, both sides'll go crazy. It'll jeopardize our whole agenda on the Hill." Toby suggests that he could do all the negotiating and leave Jed with total deniability. Yeah, I'll bet that works out. Jed: "And if it blows up, I'm supposed to pretend we've never met?" Toby: "We'll always have Paris." Bwah! Okay, that's probably the best laugh I've gotten from this show in ages. Toby reminds him of the disastrous direction in which Social Security is headed. I kind of think Jed knows all this, being a Nobel prize-winning economist and all. Oh, wait, that's for us dummkopfs. What, are the title cards on a coffee break? Toby rants on: "There's [sic] seventeen ways to fix it. Twenty years of blue ribbon commissions have told us how! This isn't a government program; it is a moral covenant. We don't want to be the administration that saves it from oblivion? We don't want that legacy?" Jed: "Social Security is the third rail of American politics: touch it and you die." He gets up and walks away. Toby stands up and says, "That's 'cause the third rail's where all the power is." Jed stops and says quietly: "Talk to Gaines. But just talk. And no one else in this building knows." Toby thanks him as Jed leaves.

C.J.'s fretting to Josh about how she has nothing to announce today: "Not even a warm front meeting up with a cold front. We've been over this: we need a hard new announcement each and every day or the press runs amok." Josh says it's Toby's job: "What am I, the White House Complaint Centre?" C.J. says he runs the policy shops: "Besides, Toby's avoiding me." Josh suggests, "Maybe no news is good news." C.J., obviously, feels that no news is extremely bad news: "If we're not running offence, we're running defence, and if we're playing defence, then there's some clever sports analogy that explains what happens then." Ha! Okay, that is definitely a shout-out. Josh: "We're screwed." C.J.: "That'll do." Josh wonders about the proposal to streamline the Federal Adoption Law. C.J. says, "[The] DPC says it's not ready, OMB says it's not revenue-neutral, and I'm declaring a war on all acronyms." Well, there's your news announcement. problem. Josh thinks there must be something going on: "It's a big government." Where are the Funnel People when you need them? C.J. reminds Josh about the time she apparently accused somebody of "welshing" on something and had to issue an apology to the Welsh people: "Slow news day." Carol comes up with a possibility: "The Argentine Economic Attach's meeting at NEC today...." Josh: "There's your offensive play." Carol: "...on cabbage imports." C.J. tells Carol to bring him in around lunchtime. Josh pats C.J. on the back and says, "We'll find a better way to feed the beast." C.J.: "Please! 'Cause the alternative's that it feeds on us."

Toby approaches Senator Gaines on the steps opposite the Capitol Building and asks to speak to him. Uh, if no one's supposed to know anything about this, shouldn't he be a lot more cloak-and-dagger about this? It looks like a speech or press briefing just broke up. Yeah, there are hardly any reporters or cameras around. Not to mention, the guy that Gaines was walking with just stands there waiting and watching as Gaines and Toby walk away. Anyway, Toby tells Gaines his theory about how and why the Senator's not running for reelection: "And I'm offering you what I think could be the crowning achievement of your career." Gaines: "You want me to applaud the President more often?" Toby: "I want us to try to save Social Security. I'll bring the President along with a leading Senate Democrat to the table." Gaines: "Then we'll simonize the Hoover Dam?" Toby suggests they do this first. Gaines says that Toby's been good on this issue: "Your political hacks in the White House haven't." Toby says it will be a day without politics. Sure it will. Did he just stumble out of a Teletubby video? Gaines is skeptical, too: he says he'll suggest having personal savings accounts so that people can invest their own money, and "Josh Lyman's hatchet factory" will accuse him of turning Social Security into stock-market bingo. Toby assures him that everything's on the table. Gaines continues, saying he'll recommend trimming the cost-of-living adjustment, and that the opposition will brandish widows scraping by on monthly cheques of $740 and accuse him of wanting them to eat cat food. Toby insists again that everything is on the table: "I'm asking you to take one step, one small step toward greatness. You chair the Subcommittee, you're the one who can deliver House and Senate Republicans." Gaines: "Funny. I knew the perfect Republican to lead this in the House. Deeply committed to reform." Toby: "Senator, I...." Gaines: "Jim Carney was his name. And I think he's in a different line of work now." Toby: "Are you willing to let the trust fund go completely broke? 'Cause let's face it, that'll lead to the mother of all tax increases, or the total collapse of the system. Is that the legacy you want to leave? One step, Senator. That's all I'm asking." Gaines, thinking it over: "I'll need a Democrat. He'd better be a heavyweight."

Josh enters his office where Will's hanging around, saying that VPOTUS's speech to the Detroit Economic Club wasn't half bad. Will wants to talk about Russell's "presentation problem." Josh: "People agree with everything Russell says...." Will: "Until he says it." Josh says that the greatest sin in politics is to be bad on television. Which will explain a huge amount of what's wrong with politics, right there. Will wonders if Josh and Toby ever had presentation problems with POTUS. Josh: "First campaign, every speech was an eighteen-point plan for something or other." Will wonders what they did. Josh: "Gave him an eighteen-point plan to make his speeches snappier." Will: "Russell's instinct is to make fun of his blandness, salt his speeches with self-deprecating jokes." Josh: "Such as?" Will: "'Bob Russell is so dull, his Secret Service code name is Bob Russell.'" Josh smirks and says that's not bad. Will: "'Bob Russell's an inspiration to the millions of Americans who suffer from Dutch Elm disease.'" Josh says if he uses that, he's going to have a Sierra Club problem. Will: "That's where we used it." Josh says, "The problem is, telling people you're dull just removes all doubt. Russell needs to confound expectations, do something to really shock the party faithful." Frink suggests: "Be found in panties." I don't think that will do it, myself. Josh: "And I may have something...about Gaines...." Will asks if Toby met with Gaines this morning. Apparently some Wall Street Journal reporter named Polk asked Will about it, and he said he had no idea: "For once in my life, I was telling the truth." Josh, seemingly attempting to sound knowledgeable: "Yeah, uh, that meeting was...let me get back to you about Russell." Will leaves.

Toby gets back to the office to find Marina Lewinsky in some clingy, low-cut, festively printed dress, crying. Yeah, that should further endear her to her co-workers. Toby decides, for reasons unknown, to care how one of his underlings feels. You just know crying subordinates are one of his very favourite things -- right after pie. He asks, "How are you doing?" She walks over to Toby, sniffling, "Nobody here talks to me. I don't think they like me." What is this, ? Just be grateful they're not leaving goats and bicycles in your office, and olives in your pockets. Get it together. Toby, unused to soothing people, handles this brilliantly: "Not really, no." Toby asks her to come into his office. He closes the door behind her, asking if she can handle something confidential: "Photocopying, pulling documents, answering my private line." She blinks and thanks him. Toby: "It's grunt work." She says she won't disappoint him. He butters her up some more by telling her that "trained animals could do it." She claims to be honoured. Toby: "Cut the act. Okay? I'm offering you the chance to do something real." Yeah, it doesn't get much more real than unjamming the copier. Her assignment is to photocopy every page from the pile of reports he pulled that morning that has the names "Gaines" or "Brainerd" on it. "Brainerd" is an awesome name. Toby warns Marina, "Tell anyone what you're doing or what the topic is...become any more likeable before this project is over...." Yeah, I don't think we have to worry a lot on that front.

Someone knocks; it's Josh, standing below a pool of light so concentrated that all you can see of his head is his big shiny forehead, his nose jutting out of a dark blotch, and a halo of hair. Who's shooting this show now, Helen Keller? This show used to be so beautiful to look at. Josh wonders if it's a bad time; Toby says no. Marina sashays out with all the verve of someone with top-secret copying job. Josh confronts Toby about the meeting with Gaines; Toby claims it's nothing. Josh asks if it was about the tax bill. Toby says he just bumped into him on the Hill. Josh: "If you were even whispering about a deal on taxes, you'd tell me, right?" Toby: "What do you think?" Josh: "Our guys don't want a deal. They're counting on that issue for the midterms." Toby grouses, "What issues aren't they counting on?" Josh: "So the $310K you called me about?" Toby says it's a coincidence. Josh wanders off. Once he's gone, Toby throws some papers down on his desk in frustration.

Out in the hall, Josh catches up with Donna, asking her to tell Will he's on his way over: "I've got a little surprise for Senator Gaines. May not be such a slow news day after all."

After the commercials, a reporter knocks on C.J.'s door. C.J.: "Mr. Polk. To what do I owe the pressure?" Heh. I bet she uses that line a lot. He needs a comment and can't wait for the briefing. C.J.: "The Journal doesn't even have a bulldog edition." He says she may need some time for this one. He says that Toby's been meeting on the Hill and he wants to know if it's about Social Security. C.J. says she's sure it's not; he claims someone on Gaines's staff says otherwise. C.J.: "Do you know how many rounds we've gone on this issue? They're just picking a fight." Polk: "In person, obviously. Because Gaines met Toby an hour ago." C.J. sighs to herself: "This is what I get on a slow news day. No bulldog edition but plenty...." Polk: "Plenty of bulldogs. Check it out, C.J."

In Toby's office, he appears to be setting up a meeting with the Democratic Senator he's chosen. Marina tells Toby a reporter from the Wall Street Journal called. Toby says that he's not taking any press calls today. Marina says he said it was urgent. Toby's sure of it, and quite indifferent. I'm sorry, I'm just not buying this woman as being qualified for this position, especially for someone as picky and difficult as Toby. What the hell happened to Bonnie and Ginger? I don't think they have other roles that are keeping them from this show. Surely there must be lots of highly experienced and qualified assistants who could better serve one of the President's highest-ranking staff members. The whole thing just seems like an excuse to introduce yet another unnecessary character, and given the way she was brought in on the T&A ticket during November sweeps, along with that walking lawsuit crack, I simply can't see how this is going anywhere worthwhile. If Toby and Marina get involved, I'll cry. And not big, shiny, slow-moving soap-opera tears, either. Marina says there's something she doesn't understand about Social Security. Toby: "Then you could be a member of Congress." Well, she's qualified for just about everything, isn't she? Then she plays the Donna role and Toby plays the Josh role and explains the problem with Social Security to her. It's so basic I'm not even going to recount it here; if you haven't heard about it yet, Google it, for God's sake. Then she wants to know who James Carney is, since she sees his name all over the reports: "If Senator Gaines won't help, could you ask him?" Seriously: she's supposed to be well-versed enough to assist the President's Director of Communications. Also, I keep wanting to type "James Cagney."

Anyway, C.J. arrives, saying, "The chickens of our empty roost are coming home to roost." There's some dialogue for the ages. That's one of those clunky lines that sounds like someone trying to sound like Sorkin. Toby apologizes for how busy he's been. C.J. says it's a "glacially slow" news day and she has had, among other things, a Freedom of Information request to inspect Abby's shoe closet. She mentions Polk's sniffing around about Social Security. She asks him what he was discussing with Gaines: "His volumetric ethanol amendment?" Toby realizes he's going to have to tell C.J. in order to have her help in misdirecting the media, so he closes the door and tells her, "You can't tell Leo." C.J.: "It isn't true, is it?" He says he needs the press off his trail for a couple of days: "It's close-hold." C.J.: "Close-hold from Leo?" Toby just looks at her and shifts his eyebrows slightly. C.J. looks sad and agrees.

Josh arrives at the OEOB and tells Will, "I like your office." It's very large and pretty lavish, I'll say: lots of wood panelling and fine furniture. Apparently being the Director of Communications for VPOTUS is accompanied by certain perks not extended to his counterpart in Bartlet's office. Will says it has the advantage of being remote. Josh says that the parking is great. Will: "Two doors down is the International Date Line." Josh says he has a strategy for Russell: "Forget the 'dull' jokes. The real problem in the Democratic Party these days is morale, right? So Russell comes out of the gate as a seltzer bottle-squirting partisan, the happy warrior, the guy who puts the fun back in Democratic politics." Put down the crack pipe, Josh. Somehow I don't think acting like one of the Marx brothers is going to get Russell or this administration very far. Will: "'Fun'? From a guy who needs a strobe light to look like he's moving?" Josh: "Write that down." Will apparently already has. Josh brings up the pathetic $310K Gaines raised in the last quarter. Will wonders if Gaines has an opponent yet. Josh says he doesn't, but that this is a crack in the plaster: "We're going to have some fun at his expense." Well, this just seems like an idiotic idea from me, even if Josh doesn't know what Toby's doing. Josh elaborates: "I'm talking about political theatre -- the stuff you do in a campaign to energize your base, wake 'em up." Yeah, and Russell seems like just the guy to pull this off. Huh? Josh proposes that Russell go to Gaines's hometown, put out a change jar, and hold a mock fundraiser. Will: "To show that Gaines is so far outside the mainstream, that's why he's broke?" Josh: "Drops a nickel in the jar for each of Gaines's retrograde positions." Will: "Tahitian tax shelters: Ka-ching!" Josh: "Privatizing Social Security." Will: "Ka-ching! It's a partisan stunt. Russell could do one every week." Josh says it "fires up the troops. Shows them while the other side's being complacent...." Will: "We're ready to throw down!" Josh: "Little too much fun there." Will: "Sorry." Josh smirks: "Slow news day," and hands Will the phone receiver, adding, "Lots of bored political reporters out there." Well, this seems like a really progressive and worthwhile and dignified way to conduct government. No wonder I have such respect and admiration for politicians.

Toby's outside chatting with the woman who must be Senator Brainerd, trying to convince her to go along with him and Gaines. She wants to know where POTUS is on this; Toby says he's 100% supportive. She says she won't raise the retirement age. Toby: "No, no, no...we have to share the pain." Brainerd: "Easy for us to say. We don't carry sheet metal for a living. We don't work hard, physical jobs like welding, plumbing..." Toby says that FDR didn't intend for Americans to pay for twenty years of shuffleboard after retirement. I guess he intended for them to die at seventy. Brainerd: "Tell that to the sheet metal worker whose tendons are shot by fifty-five." Toby: "Having no Social Security works wonders on the tendons." She wonders if he's not concerned about political fallout. He says he is, but: "This isn't politics, it's history. And there is no easy way to get in the book." Brainerd agrees to talk, but makes no commitments.

Carol informs C.J. that the guy from the Argentine Embassy has arrived. C.J. tells Carol to see if he has anything they can announce. She breezily informs C.J. that she'll want to ask him herself. She walks out as Felipe Hartmano (tm Gustave) walks in, looking extremely polished and handsome, and says hello. It's very hard to suppress the impulse to tell her to run. Speaking of 24, don't you think Allison Janney and Kiefer Sutherland would be a hot couple? C.J. doesn't look up but keeps flipping through her papers, blithering about shooting fish in a barrel and "cabbage import penetration talks" while Felipe waits quietly and patiently. She finally looks up and notices how suave and stylin' he is and loses her train of thought. He says, "There is no agreement. There is only mutual respect." She further blithers a response, having gone into shyly flirtatious mode. Felipe asks, "Do you like cabbage?" Frink: "'Only when I eat it off your stomach.'" She grins and shrugs: "Not so much, really." But she could obviously be convinced. She adds, "On occasion...I see the appeal." Felipe nods, like a man who knows a lot of secrets about cabbage. C.J., all smiles: "Been a while since I've tried it, actually." Felipe says, "You are a...a woman." C.J.: "And no news there, either, though at this point I'm willing to go with it." I would love to see the press briefing where C.J. announces that she is a biological woman. ["Well, she is really tall...." -- Wing Chun] I suspect that this is supposed to make us think that Felipe assumed that "C.J. Cregg" must be a man. They just stare and smile at each other until Carol tells C.J. that the press is waiting in the briefing room. C.J.reaches out to thank Felipe and shake his hand, and he finally introduces himself as "Carlos Carrio." He kisses C.J.'s hand instead of shaking it. He thanks her and leaves. C.J. says quietly to herself: "Thank you...for whatever it was that was." Carol comes in and snaps her fingers to interrupt C.J.'s reverie: "How come you wanted all that press guidance on ethanol?" C.J. snaps to and says it's because she's about to get hammered on Social Security. She hustles to the briefing, telling Carol, "If I tug on my left ear, create a diversion."

C.J. begins the briefing saying that the President plans to focus on raising educational standards in the coming weeks. She tries to get the members of the press corps excited about that, but they're not, and a reporter asks about proposed changes to federal adoption law. She says they hope to streamline the process soon. There's Polk off to the side, adjusting his collar. The reporter asks another question about the adoption-law changes, including a preference for younger parents, but C.J. says she hasn't reviewed the language. She keeps glancing at Polk. The reporter presses her, saying that the Bartlets have a combined age of 111, and he wants to know if they killed the announcement because they're considering adopting a baby. Someone else jumps on that, and C.J.'s so anxious to derail that line of questioning that she calls on Polk, who doesn't have any questions. The room goes nuts, calling her name and pursuing the adoption "story." She quickly ends the briefing, and a reporter complains that they don't have any news to file. C.J.: "Like a blank page would kill you." She leaves the podium, asking Polk to come with her. She wants to know why he didn't ask his question. Polk: "Why share it with the room?" C.J.: "'Cause they like flimsy rumours and innuendo, too." He says he has a second source: "You'll see how flimsy it is in tomorrow's Journal."