John Adams

Mrs. Rico bought me John Adams, the HBO miniseries, for Father's Day. Thus far, we've watched the first two parts of the seven-part series, and I'm surprisingly conflicted.

On the one hand, it's truly brilliant television, a rare feat in the days of I Survived a Japanese Game Show and Celebrity Family Feud, (on ABC and NBC last night, by the way). Paul Giamatti and Laura Linney are simply phenomenal as John and Abigail Adams. They both perfectly capture the profound intellect, surprising warmth, and deep love of the Adamsseses. They also capture the couple's personality quirks without descending into the slightest bit of caricature. The series is very well produced, largely maintaining historical authenticity with small and acceptable embellishments for dramatic purposes. (My only complaint thus far is that Washington looks much too old. He was only 42 at the time of the First Continental Congress, and the actor portraying him is 55. Giamatti, by contrast, is 41, while Adams' was 38 in 1974.)

As you may already know, I'm a huge early American history buff, so it's really exciting to be able to watch my favorite historical moments captured so beautifully. Already we've seen Henry Knox, the 300-pound bookseller turned Continental Army engineer, transporting British cannon through hundreds of miles of wilderness aided only by field animals. All my favorite quotes and moments from the pre-war period have been used, and there are so many additional scenes I'm already anticipating. Plus, it's great to see how captivated my wife is by the series, even if she's getting a huge crush on Washington. (Can you blame her?)

And yet, on the other hand, I'm slightly jealous that Adams is being shared with the wider world. I've always felt a special connection with Adams, and I've always identified so closely with him, warts and all. I like to think I share his virtues (service, self-sacrifice, a passionate love of his wife, an eagerness to debate and fight for his beliefs) as well as his flaws (stubbornness, arrogance, pride, an occasional need to be coddled, a tendency toward feeling unappreciated). David McCullough notes in his stupendous biography of Adams that he is, in a sense, America's forgotten founding father, often confused with Sam Adams and generally unappreciated and underrated. While I'm happy he is getting the appreciation and publicity he richly deserves, I always kind of relished the idea that Adams was my founding father.