Curiously, the more episodes of “The West Wing” I re-watch, the more I talk like Leo, echoing his truncated questions and his succinct answers to questions from others. That’s odd, because usually I am accused of providing “too much context,” in the fashion of Jed Bartlett, who like me, does love bits of arcane information.
I can’t recall whether this was the case when I first watched the show after it premiered on NBC on September 22, 1999, and then ran for seven seasons through May 14, 2006. I do remember I had to be bullied into watching it at all.
“You must watch ‘The West Wing,’ said my friend Gail Pennington, at that time the TV critic at the newspaper where I was a reporter. Dutifully, I watched the first episode, and gave up. I told Gail I couldn’t sort out which character was who and besides, they all talked really fast while walking around in crowded offices. Gail yelled at me and insisted I try again.
As one of those first-born kids who sometimes does what I am told and sometimes rebels, I was reluctant, but Gail knew me well (and still does) and I realized she was, after all, an authority on television shows. If she said it was worthy, then it liekly was. I went back to the show and quickly grew deeply attached for the rest of the run.
A few years after the series ended, I informed my tech-savvy son that I had purchased all seven seasons of “The West Wing” on DVD and that my intention was to watch it when I’m in hospice care, whenever that day might come. He said, “By the time you are in hospice care, there will no longer be DVDs or DVD players.”
I’m still nowhere near needing hospice care, but he was right about the demise of the technology. When I moved from St. Louis to San Francisco over 15 years ago, I donated all my DVDs to Goodwill.
Over the recent holidays, I confessed to Gail that Netflix had lured me into streaming “The West Wing” all over again, and I am startled at how much I had forgotten. Among assorted story lines in the show, I also had forgotten that Gail was not alone in demanding I worship at the altar of Aaron Sorkin. “When you said you’d given up on the show, Edward yelled at you too,” she said. Belated apologies, once again, to Edward and Gail.
Of Bobbleheads and a Precious Paper Clip
What I do remember clearly was being envious that when twice a year, Gail went to Los Angeles for the national television critics’ conference, she got to spend time in the presecne of Sorkin and the cast. One year, I had a brilliant idea, and Gail promised to run it by Sorkin. “Tell him,” I said, “that we need bobbleheads of the lead characters — Bobblehead C.J., Bobblehead Toby, Bobblehead Josh, Bobblehead Donna, Bobblehead Sam, Bobblehead Leo, Bobblehead Charlie and of course Bobblehead President Jed Bartlet.” I would buy them all, I promised.
Gail did pass along the idea, and though I suspect Sorkin didn’t actively promote it, he gave Gail a blue paper clip for me as a small token of his appreciation. I kept it in a handmade myrtlewood box for a long time, but I must have put it to better use at some point, as it isn’t in the box any longer.
Gail got way more than a paper clip from Sorkin, whom she has referred to as "my very favorite person in all of TV Land." (Jon Hamm, if you're reading this, you know Gail loves you too, but writers always like talking to writers.) Over the years, Sorkin shared friendly hugs with Gail on several occasions, and he even named a minor character after her. Remember the goldfish that Danny gives C.J. in Season 1? He tells her the guy at the store told him the fish's name is Gail.
A few weeks ago, when I had decided I would prefer to watch the government in action on “The West Wing” rather than the one playing out in Washington, D.C., just now, I said so in a Facebook post. Soon after, my friend Gerry called to say she’d seen a few random episodes of the show from a handful of seasons long ago, but was considering starting at the beginning. When I informed her that two of the major cast members (Allison Janney and Bradley Whitford) are now reunited in “The Diplomat,” that intrigued her, as she likes that show. (I do, too. Don't miss it,)
“Maybe I’ll watch the pilot of ‘The West Wing’ tonight,” Gerry said in a phone call, “and see what I think.” The next day, she sent this in an email: “Well, I am hooked. I watched the pilot and the first four episodes last night. Love it!” Of course then I had to tell her that Dulé Hill, who plays Charlie, is a rhythm tap dancer and brag that I saw him on Broadway in “Bring in Da Noise, Bring in Da Funk” in 1996 with Savion Glover. Here's a video of Hill tapping on a telethon in 2000.
Gerry is already deep into Season 3. I'm just starting Season 2, moving slowly because I had to gear up to face the shooting that occurs in the finale of Season 1, as well as the painful aftermath. Plus, as with "Breaking Bad," I have to watch the scary bits early in the day, because watching violence on TV at night keeps me awake. (Even parts of "Twin Peaks" scared me — remember that creepy guy lurking behind the couch?)
Anyway, most of the time, much of the past holds little allure for me. In “Angels in America,“ Tony Kushner reminds us that the world only spins forward. Also, President Bartlet is a big fan of the phrase, “What’s next?” and that attitude propels me forward when I am sinking into despair over some new disappointment in life or, as happens often, in the news. Still, I am not apologizing for time traveling back to "The West Wing," as the show repeatedly reminds me that though governing is complex, it can serve many higher purposes than a Vengeance Tour ever will.
Enough. I have things to do, places to go, people to see — not to mention several seasons of "the West Wing" waiting, ready to help fill winter days. Thanks, Netflix.
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