Things are a little more upbeat today. A short gym session, but a vigorous one. And another pound gone. That's encouraging. Almost like I'm doing something correctly here. In the meantime I'm pretty focused on cooking some new things that don't involve massive quantities of beef or cheese. When I'm not watching "The American" and taking extensive notes, I'm usually perusing Youtube looking for something vegan or similar that sounds appetizing for the family. This whole thing really isn't going to sustain itself if I'm cooking deep-fried bologna sandwiches and chili-cheese fries for them and then trudging off to my corner to eat a bowl of bean sprouts.
Although, I could eat a bowl of bean sprouts right now. That sounds great.
A word on looking for "vegan" recipes...I fully respect anyone's decision to be vegan or vegetarian for any reason at all. If it's a moral thing, you don't feel it's right to eat animals or animal products, fair enough. If it's a taste thing, or a health thing, I definitely understand. If you became vegan in order to hook up with the singles that you met at a yoga studio...I'm really not going to judge. But what absolutely kills me, what makes me roll my eyes a lot, are the abundance of vegan recipes that try to cover the lack of taste or substance with oil and sugar. I know, sugar is a cruelty-free product (until you ask any farmhands who work the cane plantation, but that might be too ugly a truth for right this moment). But it all reminds me of the 1980s and 1990s, when suddenly everything became fat-free. You know, fat-free milk (which really isn't a thing), fat-free margarine (haha!), fat-free everything.
When something is fat-free, take a closer look. It's either a mountain of salt, or a mountain of sugar. The tastes have to come from somewhere! And what cheaper, more preservative solution is there than to substitute all the fats you are saving with sugar and salt?
Well, enough harping on that subject. I'm sure very few people want to hear about it from a guy who's excited to be dropping down to merely "morbidly obese" from his previous place as "practically a walking corpse." Speaking of that, man did I feel dead on the elliptical today. By dead, I mean numb; my hands, feet, and ankles went to sleep just a little, which caused the nice chipper machine to constantly remind me to grab the heartbeat-sensing grips that I was already locked onto. Maybe I have bad circulation, or something. That would explain how consistently cold I've felt for the last week.
But all in all, I did feel pretty good after the gym once I sat back down. I feel a lot better on the days that I work out now, and I think part of it is a psychological satisfaction. Like, "Okay, I did it. I'm done for the day when it comes to cycling in place, now I just have to finish my work and make it home."
Sometimes it's enough just to make it through the day and get back to your comfy clothes and your recliner.
"The Americans" - Season 1, Episode 3 "Gregory"
Really good shows, the kind of good shows that are remembered for decades after they've ended, usually begin with some sort of emotional keystone. Tony Soprano's story began when he was just a boy, but we meet him just as his depression and anxiety knock him to the ground with his first panic attack. Don Draper's story is interesting from any point, but we meet him and his world right about the time his business begins to change fundamentally. And Walter White, well. Walter's story is all about change, and we start that story with a pivotal moment where the dreaded Heisenberg is born in spirit.
Now, "The Americans" is kicked off, plot-wise, by Team Jennings confronting the plausibility of defection face to face for what feels like the first time. They are told that their work is going to become more risky and dangerous. It's a tensing of the muscles. But emotionally, the real beginning of the show lies in the beginning of a real relationship between the two deep-cover spies. They might have children together and over fifteen years of trust and communication, but their marriage hasn't really yet begun. It makes you wonder, if you have experienced marriage, when did yours really begin in earnest?
There's a lot to unpack in "Gregory," but first I wanted to take the time to welcome the breathtaking, talented, undisputed queen of character acting, Margot Martindale, to the show. I had no idea she was in this! And now we have a face to go with the often unreasonable orders that drive our antiheroes. A handler character is a damn smart narrative choice, and Martindale's casting is equally smart. She can shift from matronly to menacing at the blink of an eye, as I'm sure we'll see later. But for now, it's nothing but sugar from "Grannie." And the sugar might be laced with cyanide.
The unnamed third operative in the abduction of defector Timoshev, who was last seen limping toward an ER, is actually more than a fellow agent...he's Philip's friend, Robert. And as we found out previously, he died of his wounds. That'd be fine, since he was admitted as a John Doe, and Directorate S protocol virtually guarantees no trace back to the Motherland, but Robert made a poor tactical decision and got married. And had a baby. Yikes. Robert's untimely demise is Stan Beeman's new lead, thanks to some overheard info at the Russian embassy by Beeman's new informant, and Stan is diving on this information like a starving man on a Christmas ham.
The FBI counter-intelligence agent's guide to racquetball, which he lords over a visibly staggering Philip, seems to be a sound strategy for counter-espionage: "Make your opponent move too fast, tire out, and then make a mistake." Philip counters that he will win any way he can, and evidently that includes using Philadelphia street toughs as an improvised surveillance squad in order to slip Robert's widow and son, Joyce and Oscar, out of their immediate FBI tail. This breakneck execution of Joyce's exfiltration featured some great cinematography and editing. If there's one thing about "The Americans," it's that even the most boilerplate episode might at least contain some impressive action or chase scenes.
But there's also plenty of emotional weight to this episode, thanks to Gregory. The titular character of the episode is a civil rights activist who was easily recruited to the cause by a young Elizabeth, back during the days of marching with Dr. King. Gregory is also a genuine extramarital relationship for Elizabeth that isn't limited to mere business purposes. This revelation, once admitted to Philip by the spurned Gregory, sheds some light on exactly how business-like the Jennings marriage has been maintained since the mid-sixties. Still, it wounds Philip to know that the blurred lines of affection between his wife/partner and himself are actually quite sharply drawn for her. At least, they were until the night they dumped Timoshev's body and then had off-the-clock sex in the family Oldsmobile. That might be the first signs of genuine sparks in the marriage, but of course it's also unavoidably linked to the job. It's the job that brings the couple together, always has been.
Philip will win any way he can, and that spells a certain amount of menace for someone like Gregory, who stands as a dividing force in the marriage, but for now they are allies in the question of Joyce and Oscar. Gregory, who is not a family man, voices the cruel practicality of any spy network: kill the loose ends, you kill the FBI's snooping. Philip values his friendship with Robert over the common sense of ridding himself of the secret wife and baby, sure, but he also has a certain line of basic morality that he hasn't yet had to cross, or so it would seem. One wonders what will happen when his own children become loose ends to his superiors at "the Center."
Elizabeth and Philip go through an awful lot and risk themselves unnecessarily to deliver Joyce and Oscar into the waiting arms of their new handler, who assures a new life in Cuba for them. Fundamentally, the Jenningses are good people who occasionally do bad things, but their consciences are clear. But I have to confess, I wasn't all that shocked when baby Oscar is handed to his grandparents in Russia and Joyce is found dead and pumped full of heroin in Philly.
Stan Beeman doesn't look all too shocked, either.
Random Notes:
-I Spy With My Nostalgia Eye: Jo from "Facts of Life" on Paige's teen magazine cover.
-A newspaper code in a personal ad, and an invisible ink message...that's some quality spy tradecraft.
-Paige's impending birth rocked Elizabeth at the time, and that's the first sign of her ever wavering about her position. That's what it takes to make her faith in the KGB waver.
-More details of Elizabeth's previous life bubble to the surface. It's become apparent that this is her primary method of opening up to Philip, as well as to Paige (whose ear-piercing is actually a family tradition from Babushka).
Although, I could eat a bowl of bean sprouts right now. That sounds great.
A word on looking for "vegan" recipes...I fully respect anyone's decision to be vegan or vegetarian for any reason at all. If it's a moral thing, you don't feel it's right to eat animals or animal products, fair enough. If it's a taste thing, or a health thing, I definitely understand. If you became vegan in order to hook up with the singles that you met at a yoga studio...I'm really not going to judge. But what absolutely kills me, what makes me roll my eyes a lot, are the abundance of vegan recipes that try to cover the lack of taste or substance with oil and sugar. I know, sugar is a cruelty-free product (until you ask any farmhands who work the cane plantation, but that might be too ugly a truth for right this moment). But it all reminds me of the 1980s and 1990s, when suddenly everything became fat-free. You know, fat-free milk (which really isn't a thing), fat-free margarine (haha!), fat-free everything.
When something is fat-free, take a closer look. It's either a mountain of salt, or a mountain of sugar. The tastes have to come from somewhere! And what cheaper, more preservative solution is there than to substitute all the fats you are saving with sugar and salt?
Well, enough harping on that subject. I'm sure very few people want to hear about it from a guy who's excited to be dropping down to merely "morbidly obese" from his previous place as "practically a walking corpse." Speaking of that, man did I feel dead on the elliptical today. By dead, I mean numb; my hands, feet, and ankles went to sleep just a little, which caused the nice chipper machine to constantly remind me to grab the heartbeat-sensing grips that I was already locked onto. Maybe I have bad circulation, or something. That would explain how consistently cold I've felt for the last week.
But all in all, I did feel pretty good after the gym once I sat back down. I feel a lot better on the days that I work out now, and I think part of it is a psychological satisfaction. Like, "Okay, I did it. I'm done for the day when it comes to cycling in place, now I just have to finish my work and make it home."
Sometimes it's enough just to make it through the day and get back to your comfy clothes and your recliner.
"The Americans" - Season 1, Episode 3 "Gregory"
Really good shows, the kind of good shows that are remembered for decades after they've ended, usually begin with some sort of emotional keystone. Tony Soprano's story began when he was just a boy, but we meet him just as his depression and anxiety knock him to the ground with his first panic attack. Don Draper's story is interesting from any point, but we meet him and his world right about the time his business begins to change fundamentally. And Walter White, well. Walter's story is all about change, and we start that story with a pivotal moment where the dreaded Heisenberg is born in spirit.
Now, "The Americans" is kicked off, plot-wise, by Team Jennings confronting the plausibility of defection face to face for what feels like the first time. They are told that their work is going to become more risky and dangerous. It's a tensing of the muscles. But emotionally, the real beginning of the show lies in the beginning of a real relationship between the two deep-cover spies. They might have children together and over fifteen years of trust and communication, but their marriage hasn't really yet begun. It makes you wonder, if you have experienced marriage, when did yours really begin in earnest?
There's a lot to unpack in "Gregory," but first I wanted to take the time to welcome the breathtaking, talented, undisputed queen of character acting, Margot Martindale, to the show. I had no idea she was in this! And now we have a face to go with the often unreasonable orders that drive our antiheroes. A handler character is a damn smart narrative choice, and Martindale's casting is equally smart. She can shift from matronly to menacing at the blink of an eye, as I'm sure we'll see later. But for now, it's nothing but sugar from "Grannie." And the sugar might be laced with cyanide.
The unnamed third operative in the abduction of defector Timoshev, who was last seen limping toward an ER, is actually more than a fellow agent...he's Philip's friend, Robert. And as we found out previously, he died of his wounds. That'd be fine, since he was admitted as a John Doe, and Directorate S protocol virtually guarantees no trace back to the Motherland, but Robert made a poor tactical decision and got married. And had a baby. Yikes. Robert's untimely demise is Stan Beeman's new lead, thanks to some overheard info at the Russian embassy by Beeman's new informant, and Stan is diving on this information like a starving man on a Christmas ham.
The FBI counter-intelligence agent's guide to racquetball, which he lords over a visibly staggering Philip, seems to be a sound strategy for counter-espionage: "Make your opponent move too fast, tire out, and then make a mistake." Philip counters that he will win any way he can, and evidently that includes using Philadelphia street toughs as an improvised surveillance squad in order to slip Robert's widow and son, Joyce and Oscar, out of their immediate FBI tail. This breakneck execution of Joyce's exfiltration featured some great cinematography and editing. If there's one thing about "The Americans," it's that even the most boilerplate episode might at least contain some impressive action or chase scenes.
But there's also plenty of emotional weight to this episode, thanks to Gregory. The titular character of the episode is a civil rights activist who was easily recruited to the cause by a young Elizabeth, back during the days of marching with Dr. King. Gregory is also a genuine extramarital relationship for Elizabeth that isn't limited to mere business purposes. This revelation, once admitted to Philip by the spurned Gregory, sheds some light on exactly how business-like the Jennings marriage has been maintained since the mid-sixties. Still, it wounds Philip to know that the blurred lines of affection between his wife/partner and himself are actually quite sharply drawn for her. At least, they were until the night they dumped Timoshev's body and then had off-the-clock sex in the family Oldsmobile. That might be the first signs of genuine sparks in the marriage, but of course it's also unavoidably linked to the job. It's the job that brings the couple together, always has been.
Philip will win any way he can, and that spells a certain amount of menace for someone like Gregory, who stands as a dividing force in the marriage, but for now they are allies in the question of Joyce and Oscar. Gregory, who is not a family man, voices the cruel practicality of any spy network: kill the loose ends, you kill the FBI's snooping. Philip values his friendship with Robert over the common sense of ridding himself of the secret wife and baby, sure, but he also has a certain line of basic morality that he hasn't yet had to cross, or so it would seem. One wonders what will happen when his own children become loose ends to his superiors at "the Center."
Elizabeth and Philip go through an awful lot and risk themselves unnecessarily to deliver Joyce and Oscar into the waiting arms of their new handler, who assures a new life in Cuba for them. Fundamentally, the Jenningses are good people who occasionally do bad things, but their consciences are clear. But I have to confess, I wasn't all that shocked when baby Oscar is handed to his grandparents in Russia and Joyce is found dead and pumped full of heroin in Philly.
Stan Beeman doesn't look all too shocked, either.
Random Notes:
-I Spy With My Nostalgia Eye: Jo from "Facts of Life" on Paige's teen magazine cover.
-A newspaper code in a personal ad, and an invisible ink message...that's some quality spy tradecraft.
-Paige's impending birth rocked Elizabeth at the time, and that's the first sign of her ever wavering about her position. That's what it takes to make her faith in the KGB waver.
-More details of Elizabeth's previous life bubble to the surface. It's become apparent that this is her primary method of opening up to Philip, as well as to Paige (whose ear-piercing is actually a family tradition from Babushka).