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December 19, 2002
'West Wing' fans: Who needs Sam?
The Cleveland Plain Dealer
There are two kinds of women who love "The West Wing": Sam women and Josh women.
Charlie's too young, Toby's too prickly, and Leo doesn't seem to do anything but nod his head once and growl, "Right."
However, media analysts swear that Sam, and only Sam, played by Rob Lowe, is why women in my demographic group tune into "West Wing." They insist we are now mourning Lowe's departure like a woman whose man done did her wrong and then flicked his cigarette at her before dumping her at the Greyhound bus station.
Sam, spam. It's us Josh women of the world who will keep "West Wing" afloat long after Rob Lowe discovers he has no career to go back to.
Here's some background for those of you who don't watch "The West Wing," which is a shame because it's a great way to learn how to engage in pithy, life-altering dialogue while walking through an endless string of hallways.
Lowe is leaving because they won't raise his $70,000-per-episode salary to match President Martin Sheen's $300,000. (If Martin Sheen isn't really our president, please don't tell me because it's the only way I sleep at night.)
Lowe plays Sam Seaborn, deputy communications director at the White House. Bradley Whitford is Josh Lyman, deputy chief of staff.
Sam is button-down and gorgeous, but his face is always awash in angst because, well, why, really? I don't get it. Women drop at his feet like pine cones from a rotting evergreen. Even the hooker he slept with was a law student. (Only the best for Sam.)
He gets to write the State of the Union address; he has terrific hair, which you know smells like strawberries; and just last week, the president told him, "Sam, someday, you're going to be president."
What did Sam do? He sighed.
I am not a Sam kind of woman. In fact, a Sam would never even look at me unless he wanted someone to toss his carry-on bag in the overhead compartment. I don't mind, really. I'm too insecure to date someone who is prettier than I am, and I'd want to pull that knot on his rep tie a little too tight if I were on the receiving end of one of his chest-pounding diatribes.
"I'm a magna cum laude graduate of Princeton and editor of the Duke Law Review," he says in one episode. "Tell her I've worked for congressmen and D-triple-C. I have seven years at Gage Whitney, and for the last four I've served as deputy communications director and senior counsel."
Oh-kaaaay then.
Josh, on the other hand, is so openly neurotic that he's almost an honorary girlfriend. One look at his impish what-did-I-do-now grin, and we women know: He needs us.
He trips over his words and the corner of his desk. His receding hairline resembles the shoreline of the New York Finger Lakes, but he doesn't hide it, which real women love. No sissy shampoo for Josh, either. I imagine him yelling from the shower, "Honey, we're out of Prell. Could you hand me the dishwashing detergent?" (Down, goose bumps, down.)
Josh is smart, but he's clueless, too, in that cute way. "I studied a lot in school," he says. "I studied hard in high school and at Harvard and in law school. My IQ doesn't break the bank, and I wanted to do this so I studied all the time. And I missed something . . . I never learned what you do after you think you like somebody . . . what you do next."
Oooooohhhhhhh.
Makes you just wanna pull his confused little head into your bosom and give it a big hug, which you could never do with Sam because he would immediately pull back and say, "Uh, uh, uh, not the hair. Never. Touch. The hair."
We've known since last spring that Sam is leaving. But we didn't know when. Week after week, month after month, we waited, we watched, we wondered. That is so Sam, and so not how Josh would handle it.
Josh would just stick his face outside the shower curtain, his head brimming with the suds of Lemon Fresh Joy, and say, "Hey, uh, the-ah, the show? I'm leavin' it, 'kay?"
And then he'd slide on a bar of soap and land with a thwump.
Oooooohhhhhhh.
Posted by MorganG at December 19, 2002 06:08 PM