Y’know, cheers to Dan. I came home from work drained and exhausted because it was one of those days that feel interminable, like you’re positive your computer clock is lying to you because it says only ten minutes have passed when you’re sure it’s been more like an hour, and then you start thinking that your computer must not like you very much, maybe even it hates you and is only pretending to be insentient (is that a word? If not, then look at the word I just made up!), biding its time until it can probe your mind and reprogram you to do its bidding because, really, wouldn’t that just be the most poetic thing ever, and these are the things I think about when I spend the day fact checking series titles in an office with only one window made of textured glass so I can’t even see out of it, and anyway my point is that blogging was the last thing I wanted to do when I got home and I was dreading it because I was afraid that it was going to be YET ANOTHER “nothing of importance happened today and I can’t even give you any good cat pictures because I don’t have a cat anymore and that SUCKS SO HARD” but I usually edit out everything after “today” before I publish because, you know, even I think it’s a little much for me to be going on and on about my dead cat but maybe that’s something I can write about later but probably won’t, so I feared the blog today, but then Dan came to my rescue and asked if I would put an APB out for him on all the various networks I use and he doesn’t, and I said sure.

Before I do that, a little background: do you remember the “Don Draper Says ‘What’” video from last summer? I think that because we’re deprived of new Mad Men episodes until 2012, we should all watch it again:

It’s so great, right? Dan made it. DAN MADE IT. I know, RIGHT? I kvell. (No, autocorrect, I do not mean ‘knell.’ WTF?)

And for the record, he also made this Don Draper/Samwell mashup, my favorite part of which is the shot of Draper in the gym locker room looking at the transistor radio as though “What What (In The Butt)” is coming out of it and not “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction.” Let’s watch, shall we?

Dan has a new supercut idea, but he needs your help. He wants to string along every movie/TV utterance of “SILENCE!” — well, probably not EVERY utterance, but as many as he can get his hands on. I associate the line and its delivery primarily with science fiction movies — check that, science fiction B movies — but there isn’t an easy way to search for this. If you can think of any, would you leave them in the comments or @-reply me on Twitter? Don’t worry about pointing him to a specific timestamp; he can do the legwork as long as he knows where to start legging.

And then, if you’d do us an extra kindness, would you spread the word? You wonderful readers are loyal but few in number. I’d be ever so grateful on Dan’s behalf.

No related posts.

Mad Men’s season finale, “Tomorrowland,” was one of the densest episodes of the season. How do the writers cram all that story into one 43 minute episode? Amazing.

We start with Don + Faye and end with Don + Megan, and the only thing surprising is how quickly that story turned around. I admit, I was half expecting Don’s proposal scene to be a dream sequence, as hackneyed as that would have been. I never got any sense of urgency from him; rather, it was like once he got Anna’s old engagement ring, he was compelled to use it, and Megan was conveniently there.

I dislike this story direction, as much as I did when the show first hinted at it, which is not to say that I dislike Megan. I actually like her quite a bit, and honestly, for the same reasons I think Don does: she’s great with his kids, she’s smart and ambitious, she’s sincere and mature and sophisticated, and she’s level headed.

But between Megan and Faye, who I also like quite a bit, Megan is much more the conventional choice for Don. And I think that’s what disappoints me in the end, that Don turns to a relationship that isn’t going to be challenging for him — and I mean good-challenging. Megan reflects back the image of himself Don wants to see, whereas Faye knows the real Don — who has potential! But self-development is tricky and hard and so why bother?

Slightly less disappointing was the news that Joan decided to keep Roger’s baby. Everyone called that except me, I guess, but that’s not why I’m disappointed. I guess the only problem I have with this is that I think it’s a total TV cliche to bring audiences all the way up to the clinic and then have the character change her mind. But I’m not even bothered that she did change her mind, because I remember the scene in the waiting room with the other woman asking how old Joan’s daughter is and I can see the reminder of how old Joan is, the knowledge that she’s already had two abortions and the uncertainty of Greg’s Vietnam tour, all weighing on her and causing her to walk out the door and take the risk. I dislike that she’s keeping this news from Roger, even though I understand why she is, and I dislike that she’s lying to Greg as well, as much as I don’t like Greg. It all just feels so…SOAPY.

All that said, how much did I love Christina Hendrick’s delivery of “Yes, honey, they’re bigger”? That woman is my homegirl.

It should be also noted that Joan got a title bump in last night’s episode and is now Director of Agency Operations. There’s no monetary compensation at the moment, though, and won’t be until the agency gets back on its financial feet, and honestly, it sounds to me like a very fancy way of saying “Office Manager,” and I say that as someone who has had a few very impressive-sounding job titles while doing very little other than administrative work, and Joan herself makes some remark about still pushing the mail cart, so. I’m just sayin’. I think she sees this for what it is as well.

In the meantime, Peggy lands the agency’s first new business since Lucky Strike split, and this is major news even if the account isn’t going to single-handedly save the company — as Don points out, she broke the streak. Don himself only managed to secure another meeting with the Cancer Association, and doesn’t say a single word about any business meetings he has in California. Topaz pantyhose may only be a quarter of a million dollars, but it’s a start. And yet her news is eclipsed by Don’s engagement news, which pisses Peggy off — though I think she’s more annoyed because they had their bonding moment however many weeks ago and now there’s a whole side to his life that she knew nothing about — and it’s possible that she’s also pissed because Don’s a little condescending when he tells Peggy that Megan reminds him of her and admires her?

I loved the scene between Peggy and Joan, when Joan predicts that Don will make Megan a copywriter because he won’t want to be married to his secretary — interesting that she assumes Megan will keep working, but then I think Megan will want to keep working, and this is a small change between 1965 and 1963, when Roger married Jane, who was only interested in working until she found a (rich) husband. What I loved most was when Peggy literally called Joan out on her bullshit and Joan started to giggle. A nice moment between them.

Betty was at her most vengeful, hateful self. How do you fire Carla for anything, let alone something so entirely in your own head? Granted, Carla knew that Betty didn’t want Glenn in the house, and I do think that Betty is entitled to be angry that Carla allowed him in and allowed him to go up to Sally’s room instead of, say, calling Sally downstairs. But to dismiss her that way, and without a letter of reference? For this one error of judgment in the however many years Carla has watched over the kids? The only reason Betty hates Glenn is because Glenn asked her to do something about which she is now embarrassed, and the way she lets that control her behavior and emotions is ridiculous. He’s weird and gross, but he’s not evil. And for Betty to lash out at Carla, asking “when did you decide you’re [Sally's] mother” when Carla has BEEN the surrogate mother to all of Betty’s kids since — forever? — was just so hard to watch. Carla, you were like the one sane thing in these kids’ lives, and you will be missed.

And then Henry gets angry at Betty for the way she treated Carla — very angry! he withholds beer! deservedly so! — and Betty goes to pout in Sally’s room, and then arranges to still be in the house when Don comes by to meet with the realtor. The way she was fixing her makeup and posing with the box of stuff she “forgot,” it was clear to me that Betty was deliberately at the house for the sole purpose of running into Don. And then she starts talking to Don about how things aren’t perfect and there’s all this change and I got the distinct impression she was waiting for an opening to tell him how much she wanted things to go back to where they were and then Don drops the news that he’s engaged and you can see Betty’s face go THUNK. There was something very satisfying about that whole scene, how quiet it was, how Don knew where that secret bottle of scotch was, how Don and Betty were able to have an entire conversation without yelling at each other, and then Betty hands Don the keys to the house. So long, Ossining.

Other well done moments:

Interesting that Ken is reluctant to play the family connections card for the sake of SCDP, that he places more value on his family than his work. Fundamental difference between Ken and Pete, for one thing, but also Ken and the rest of the advertising world, as we witnessed in “Chinese Wall.” On the one hand, I see this as a limitation of Ken’s. On the other hand, good for him!

But then Ken’s not at all averse to regular networking, as he jumps on board the Topaz pantyhose line after Joyce brings the fired model to Peggy’s office. At first I thought Joyce was trying to help the model out, but then she would know that SCDP is strapped at the moment, so it’s another example of Joyce being awesome and bringing Peggy a lead.

The reactions of everyone else to Don and Megan’s news were pitch perfect, from Pete’s “What?” (because he’d just seen Faye in Don’s apartment) to Roger’s “Who the hell is that?”

My breath caught in my throat when Sally asked Don who Dick was. And I thought his response, if not entirely accurate, was appropriate for the situation: “It’s me…a nickname I sometimes have.” A half-truth, but enough of the truth in it to satisfy me. And if being with Megan is Don’s way of saying goodbye to all the Dick Whitman mishegas, I’m OK with that. Let Season 5 start with something entirely new.

No related posts.

I’ll be honest with you, I was nervous going into last night’s episode of Mad Men (“Blowing Smoke”), since the previous episode left such a bad taste in my mouth. Thankfully it was back to business as usual — which, of course, given the previous episode, isn’t exactly the best of all possible worlds.

SCDP continues to deal with the fallout of Lucky Strike’s departure, and though there’s still very much an end-of-days feeling in the office, it seems as though it’s calmed down a bit. Practical measures are taken — Don meets with Heinz, Lane takes out collateral to ensure the company can stay afloat (if barely) for the next few months — yet these don’t necessarily prompt confidence in either SCDP employees or potential clients.

Heinz wants to wait to see where SCDP will end up, which is entirely reasonable. I thought the scene between Don and the Heinz guy was interesting if only for the idea that beans sold well during the war, which makes sense, but now “ketchup is king.” I would not have pegged ketchup as all that emblematic of America’s post-war prosperity. It was also interesting, and typical of the series, that this scene then cut to Betty feeding her kids beans and franks, with Heinz condiments on the table. See, you sell the beans WITH the ketchup, as a total meal package. This also made me recall the episode in which Betty buys Heineken beer for her dinner party, not knowing that SC was trying to land that account.

The scramble to put in money leads to more stress for Pete, since he doesn’t have a spare 50K lying around to put in as his contribution. Oh, the things you don’t think of when you demand to be made partner. And this leads to a confrontation with Trudy that feels like the good old days of Seasons 1, 2, and part of 3, in which I want to yell at both of them to just stop and listen to each other, even though this scene in particular resonates with the idea from “Chinese Wall,” that family is always going to be sacrificed for business. Still, for Trudy to forbid Pete from asking her father for money when Pete had no intention of doing so was, well, totally a Trudy thing to do, but irritating nonetheless.

And then Don bails Pete out at the end of the episode, at once reaffirming his commitment to the company, doing whatever it takes to save it, and mirroring all the times he’s either written checks or handed out cash (or bought gifts) in order to fix a particular situation, and not just in this episode. Which brings me to Midge.

Seeing Rosemary DeWitt’s name in the credits surprised me, since I wasn’t expecting to see Midge ever again. And then she’s basically positioned in the episode as Don’s shadier self — how far we have come this season, to have someone who sadder than Don. But Midge’s fall is incredibly sad. Once she lived in a light, cheerfully bohemian apartment; where she is now is greyer and dingier than Don’s bachelor pad. (Man, this show really makes Greenwich Village unappetizing.) She’s married to some dude named Harry who got her hooked on heroin, and it would seem they got married only to get cash for more smack, and now — how different are they from that hitchhiking couple Don picked up a few years ago? And even though Don knows he’s being taken, that he didn’t accidentally run into Midge but that she orchestrated this whole thing in order to squeeze money out of him, it is ultimately their history that prompts him to give her money (as he did so long ago, signing over his bonus check to her as they ended their relationship) — and this is the saddest part yet. He tries to give her $300 but she has nowhere to deposit a check (anymore, that is, since I assume she was able to use the aforementioned bonus check) so he gives her the $120 he has on him, and she doesn’t view this as a loss. And I don’t think Don gives her money out of guilt, or really as a way of helping her — this is a fix for him, a way to get himself out of an uncomfortable situation.

But then it winds up helping him in a different way, in the one scene I thought was a little much, the whole “I’m going to throw this painting out — but wait, now I see myself in it” move. But looking at the painting brings back Midge’s words, that she knows heroin is bad for her but she can’t stop, and this is what inspires Don to write his anti-tobacco-advertising manifesto for what I’m guessing is the New York Times.

I love it when the characters on this show act so completely in accordance with who they are, or at least who I understand them to be, yet in ways that surprise me. Perhaps my discomfort with last week’s episode (I just can’t let it go!) was because their reaction to the loss of Lucky Strike caused them all to go so far to the extreme of their ruthless business practices, to the extent that none of their humanity remained. I don’t know. Is that too easy? While in this episode, that ruthlessness is still there, but it’s tempered by desperation, which provides Don and Pete and — well, Roger’s still being an ass — with a vulnerability that I suppose is essential for me to, well, understand them.

So Don listens to Peggy quote himself back to him — “if you don’t like what people are saying, change the conversation” — and that’s exactly what he does, writing an ad for SCDP, full of that special brand of Don Draper bravado, and while it’s not as good as his Kodak Carousel pitch, it ain’t half bad. And it works — after that ad appears, no one’s talking about Lucky Strike dumping SCDP (loved the way Megan compared it to the rewriting of relationship history — wonder if she’s feeling a little fallout from her tryst with Don? What was with that look she shoots at Faye?). They are, however, talking about Don effectively killing the company, and I liked that this was left open ended, a cliffhanger that may not even be resolved by next week’s finale.

Still, I don’t see the argument the other partners made, not entirely. I see their point about being left out of the loop, that they didn’t even know this was happening, but for them to complain that their names aren’t on the ad as signatures as well, when they’ve always, from the beginning, relied on Don to be the public face of the company, didn’t sit right with me.

And what a way for Bert Cooper to go. “Get my shoes!” is . . . well, that’s an exit line only Bert would have. Is it really the end for him, though? Not that he’s had much to do with the new company.

I haven’t even gotten to the Sally/Glen/Betty business. If this is an end to creepy Glen, I’m OK with it. Offering Sally first a cigarette and then his Coke backwash? GROSS. I mean, Betty’s got a point when she tells Sally that Glen is bad. I wonder if she knows, or suspects, that Glen was behind the trashing of her house — and ultimately, Glen does succeed, however indirectly, in making Betty think that it’s time to move. But holy crap, is that a rash and petty reason. It would be one thing if she thought she were protecting Sally, but that’s not what’s happening at all. And it’s this brief scene at the end that threatens to undo all the progress Sally made over the summer in therapy — that she now knows that her mother isn’t interested in the truth of any situation as long as Sally obeys her, and Sally can play that game as long as she can hold on to the anger that her mother doesn’t see. The moment that got to me most, which won’t surprise you at all, is when Dr Edna makes sure Sally knows how proud Dr. Edna is of her. Because Dr. Edna KNOWS that Sally is not getting that sort of positive reinforcement at home.

Other stuff:

* In the meantime, Betty isn’t making any progress at all, and I’m not sure I liked the part when Dr. Edna explains that she’s probably not the most qualified to keep talking with Betty since she’s a child psychologist. Betty’s a child. I get it.

* Lane’s family is back in New York. Interesting that this information is conveyed as a Bee Tee Dubs.

* Teddy Chaough’s prank call seemed perfectly in keeping with the character I’ve come to understand is obnoxious and petty and dim. Still, at the beginning I was all, “Who did they get to be the voice of RFK? That is a HORRIBLE impression!”

* This episode was full of nice moments — I mean, really NICE moments. Pete’s acknowledgement and silent thanks to Don at the end. Peggy and Faye, with Peggy expressing her genuine admiration for the way Faye carries herself in a male-dominated business. Henry coming home early to have dinner with the family — what was the backstory there? Whether this was a coincidence or whether Betty said something to him about Sally’s desire to eat with the grownups, it made me like him better.

* Bert yelling at Harry to get out of the conference room made me laugh, since it was exactly the sort of place-putting Harry’s needed from the beginning of the season.

* And finally, was I the only one who, after Danny says “It’s a dog-eat-dog world,” followed up with “and I’m wearing Milkbone underwear“?

I can’t be the only one.

No related posts.

I realize I’m stretching the limits of “better late than never” here.

Mad Men, Ep. 10: “Chinese Wall”

I was profoundly uncomfortable and irritated throughout the entire episode. Much as I’m willing to put this down to being overtired and stressed about general stuff, I’m also sure that it’s because every single male character was a complete jerk. Normally when they exhibit jerky behavior it’s somewhat balanced, or at least moderated by some sort of vulnerability or charm or humor or something that makes me not hate them outright, even if the anti-jerkiness comes after several episodes (see: loathing Pete Campbell in Season 1, reaching some sort of understanding about his character by the end of Season 2). But there was nothing tempering the jerk factor in “Chinese Wall”; rather, the behavior and attitudes of Don, Pete, Roger, et al. were only bolstered by those demonstrated by the BBDO executives eulogizing David Montgomery — a funeral that Pete chooses to go to in an attempt to drum up business instead of rushing immediately to the hospital to greet his new child. (I wonder if he’d have made the same choice if Trudy had delivered a boy. Don’t forget the unequal monetary values Trudy’s dad assigned to his future grandson and granddaughter.)

And I get that with the loss of Lucky Strike that SDCP is turning to a desperate times/desperate measures policy, that Pete will do anything to help the company stay afloat, that Don’s demands of Faye are prompted by end-of-the-world despair as well, but that doesn’t make it any less assholish.

Oddly, despite my concerns from the previous episode, I wasn’t bothered by the Megan/Don coupling, which I think has everything to do with Megan being the instigator, going after what she wants, promising that she’ll not turn into another Allison (ouch) than Drunk Don inappropriately hitting on her. Do I wish he’d exhibited more self-restraint than the lame “no, no, we mustn’t” he offers up in a show of pseudo-protest? Yes I do. But to refuse sex with Megan would be beyond any normal heterosexual man, much less Sober Don, much much less Tipsy Don. If this was inevitable, then the writers went about this in the right way. (It’s also clear to me that Megan also believes that Peggy slept with Don in order to get her current job.) (Please tell me I’m not the only one anticipating Don’s response to Faye when she finds out that Don’s slept with Megan: “We were on a break!”)

Possibly more oddly, I was bothered by Peggy sleeping with Abe, at least initially. To me it seemed as though she was betraying her stronger self, the one who rejected him after he proved that he wasn’t taking her seriously. I wish I’d seen a little more of them together, see him be a little more contrite, or her giving way a little more, to make this more believable and/or bearable. Still, I can hardly begrudge Peggy her post-sex euphoria, since the girl deserves it. (I sort of wish she had a Louise to her Thelma congratulating her on finally getting laid proper.)

Rubicon, Ep. 11: “A Good Day’s Work”

As much as I was disappointed by Mad Men (although again, I recognize that it’s the characters and not the show itself at fault), I was overjoyed by last week’s Rubicon. Thought it was the best episode of the season. I was absolutely riveted from beginning to end, relishing the small touches each actor brings to each scene — like the short conversation that Kale and Will have in Will’s office, the way the two both gesture toward the bugged owl on Will’s desk and acknowledge that they have to speak in code. Or Katherine’s debilitating paranoia that everyone on her street is an agent primed to kill her if she violates the rules Donald Bloom set before her. Or — and this was the most heartstopping, gutwrenching moment — the look on Kale’s face as he sees Donald Bloom — his former lover — lying dead on Will’s floor, just before he starts the cleanup, because that’s what needs to be done, and Kale is the quintessential Guy that people mean when they say “I know a guy.” (Seriously, I wish I had a Kale Ingram in my corner.)

This was the penultimate episode and it brought the two main plots together:

1) The group of men that Spangler is part of sit on multiple boards of directors, and has been using API intelligence for profit — not surprisingly, this is the same charge as the one that got Julia’s team leader fired, though in that case it was something about insider trading, which didn’t make sense at the time but clearly wasn’t meant to, since it was a coverup for the real API leak — and either the FBI knew about it or Spangler had all of this in place beforehand.

2) It is probable that whatever Kateb is plotting is directly related to these disasters-for-profit companies — and possibly engineered by them.

3) Kateb is a made-up identity — this was one of my favorite moments of the episode, when Grant figures this out, that since the name “Kateb” did not appear until 2004, that his identity has been manufactured. This in turn leads the API team to a Joseph Purcell, an American convert to extremist radical Islam. I speculate that Joseph Purcell has ties to Atlas MacDowell or any of the other companies connected to the Fishers Island gang.

Which brings me to a few plot inconsistencies — why would Will use his API phone to call the Fishers Island library? He’s been so careful up to this point, and he knows his office is bugged, and there wasn’t any indication that he was doing this to SEND A MESSAGE or anything. It seems as though this was a plot-related thing rather than a character-related thing, done solely to move the story forward to get Spangler to figure out that Will knows everything so that Spangler would set up the hit. Which brings me to the next plot inconsistency, which is that I don’t buy for a second that Will would’ve really defeated Donald Bloom in a fight to the death, considering that this is what Donald Bloom DOES and HAS BEEN DOING for at least 20 years, and even if he’s gotten a little soft around the middle, I would think he’d still be able to take Will the Untrained down easily. HOWEVER. This scene was crazy good, so honestly? I’m just going to go with it.

No related posts.

The obvious theme to last night’s Mad Men episode, “Hands and Knees,” is secrecy. Every storyline had to do with concealment, from Joan and Roger’s “oops” (we all saw that coming, right?) to Roger wanting to keep Lucky Strike’s departure secret, to Don’s false identity becoming a huge liability.

I mean, it always was a liability, something Don is never going to be able to sweep under the rug, but SCDP’s contract with North American Aviation ramps the stakes for Don higher than they’ve ever been. He risks losing everything if the government finds out that he’s really Dick Whitman, and for the first time since season 2, he’s thinking about running away.

I get that Don is a huge reason why SCDP has been as successful as it is in their first year, and maybe he’s the only reason? And of course the idea of losing him is anathema, out of the question. But I was still surprised that Pete fell on his sword for Don in taking the blame for losing the account. I thought there might at least be more of a fight. I mean, it’s PETE.

And Don’s secret has always been tied up in his romantic relationships, and we get a double dose of that here. First, Betty’s visited by a couple G-Men (one named Landingham!) and I swear I am telling you the truth when I say that I actually paused the show just after they asked whether she had any reason to believe that Don Draper isn’t who he says he is because I was afraid to hear what she’d answer. But she lies for him, and then calls to tell him about the meeting, and it actually turns funny when they both start talking as though the phone is tapped.

(I was also surprised when Betty seemed pleased about the Beatles tickets Don gets for Sally, when I would’ve thought she’d launch into some sort of tirade about how he’s buying Sally’s love and I swear I didn’t mean to make a Beatles song reference just then. It just happened. But seriously, of all the guilt-induced parental gift bribes, nothing trumps Shea Stadium Beatles tickets. It’s just too bad that Sally won’t be able to hear anything.)

The other outcome of the security check is that Don, in the aftermath of a violent panic attack, tells Faye the Cliff’s Notes version of what happened in Korea. And I could be wrong, but I think this is the first time in telling the story to anyone that he claims some responsibility: “I wanted them to mix us up.” And then apparently there’s a bit of distance between them which I didn’t feel until I went back and watched the last scene again, and then I still didn’t feel distance between Don and Faye until the very last scene with Don looking at Megan with something that could be longing or desire or both. And . . . just, no. No, OK? No.

True, Megan’s been there for Sally twice now, and has been the model of efficiency in the office, and although she essentially didn’t do anything wrong she still spent the bulk of the episode apologizing to Don, so there’s a familiar and perhaps desirable power structure already in place that Don responds to. But I also think he responds to the more equal structure that he has with Faye — that he had with Rachel Menken as well (not coincidentally, the only other woman he’s willingly told about his past). And yes, I get the idea that Don now thinks that Faye won’t want anything to do with him so he’s going to do the whole emotionally distant thing with her and blah blah blah I am already bored with that. So a plea to the writers: Don’t go where everyone thinks you’re going. Don’t dip your pen into that ink again. (Thank you.)

Moving on. JOAN. Three things stick with me from this story: first, I think I’m at a place now where I think that Roger and Joan together would be an utter disaster. I think these two actors have tremendous chemistry together and I look forward to their scenes very much, and I think that’s why I want them together, so that I’d have more of those scenes. But the only thing that really drives their relationship is that they can/should never be together, and what keeps that force going is that they keep bluffing each other knowing that they’ll never call each other on it. And that’s why Roger’s been saying things like “I think I love you,” because these bluffs have to be bigger and grander now. But the minute Joan says “I think I love you too,” it’s over. It is more than likely that everyone has known this forever and I’m just now catching up.

Second, Joan is so utterly and inexpressibly lonely that it breaks my heart. And I guess I’ve always known that she is, but it’s so clear in this episode that it’s shocking that I’ve not mentioned it before. But the shot of her riding the bus alone is going to stay with me for a while.

Third, there’s a nice little meta moment when Roger suggests that Greg might not make it back from Vietnam and Joan would be free to be with Roger and their child, and Joan cuts him off with “Greg’s dying is not a solution to this.” Take that, Internet!

(And also, OF COURSE Joan can’t keep the child and pretend that it’s Greg’s. Jealous Greg would see through that in a heartbeat.)

I don’t even know what to say about Lane’s story. Up until the end, in the partner’s meeting, it seemed as though he was the only one who wanted all his secrets finally out in the open. And the thing that shocked me more than Mr. Pryce caning his son was Lane’s ultimate acquiescence. But suddenly, Lane’s love affair with America makes that much more sense. I was reminded of the moment last season when Putnam Powell & Lowe wanted to send Lane to India and told him that he was valuable to the company because he always did what he was told. In America he didn’t have any severe British authority to answer to. (Shades of Wesley Wyndam-Price.)

My guess is that the rest of the episodes this season are going to lead up to a stand or fall moment for the company, as news gets out that Lucky Strike has taken their business out of SCDP.

Randoms: Trudy’s belly is redonkulous. And I can’t say for certain, never having been in her situation, but I’m pretty sure that being THAT pregnant means you can’t plop down and curl up next to someone the way she did. It didn’t seem like she was carrying that much of a load at all. I mean, what the hell do I know about it, but I was distracted by that.

Jon Hamm makes very convincing vomit noises.

John Slattery was amazing this whole episode, whether it was betrayal/anger at Lee Garner, Jr., or telling Joan she’s beautiful, but my favorite is when he’s on the phone with the wife of a former client, clearly trying to reconnect with old business contacts to make up for Lucky Strike’s departure, and when he finds out that this particular contact is dead, pulls the ultimate multitasking off — sounds sincerely sympathetic and caring while ripping up the contact card and flipping through his Rolodex to find the next contact. And it’s not played entirely for laughs, either. God, that was brilliant.

Of all the secrecy on this episode, the one that made me laugh (out loud) is when Pete sees Faye at Don’s. I don’t know why it struck me funny. Maybe it was because there are all these huge secrets out there and then welp! There’s another one!

I have never been so jealous of a fictional character as I am of Sally Draper. And yet, how nice was it to hear her scream WITH JOY for once?

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Last night’s episode is called “The Beautiful Girls,” which is an interesting choice. It is an easy and deceptively powerful way to undermine any woman’s power or agency to refer to her as a “beautiful girl”; it’s not necessary to take them seriously. And every woman/girl on the show last night either demanded to be taken seriously (with mixed results) or wasn’t taken seriously at all. So the title: commentary or betrayal?

First, Mrs. Blankenship’s death is played for laughs. I happen to love gallows humor and I thought some of the best zingers stemmed from Ida’s demise (Harry’s “My mother made that!” in reference to the afghan they place over her body; Don’s “I’d have my secretary do it but she’s dead”) but it still felt disrespectful. Guy’s foot getting run over by the riding lawnmower last season was done with more gravitas. And yes, I’m saying that even though I didn’t particularly like Mrs. Blankenship — although it’s possible that I disliked the way she was used, in a sort of sitcommy way, and didn’t actually dislike HER. And even if I did, she had a great departing scene with Bert as he asks her for help with his crossword puzzle. “EMU.” “No, it starts with an L.” “The hell it does.” And at least Bert offers up a lovely, succinct eulogy in the end: she was born in a barn at the turn of the century and died on the 37th floor of a skyscraper. “She’s an astronaut.” People, that line choked me up.

Peggy’s not taken seriously by Abe, either. Their discussion of civil rights follows a familiar path; namely, that different kinds of discrimination are somehow in competition with each other, and while Abe has a point that no one is shooting at Peggy to keep her from voting, he also hasn’t noticed the ways sexism pervades their culture either, and his response — “so we’ll have a civil rights march for women, too” — is wholly condescending and exposes his privilege as a white male, acting as though personal liberties are his to bestow on the hungry and needy huddled masses. That his attempt to make it up to Peggy, that his idea of a conciliatory gesture is to write a — poem? essay? — that likens her to a Nazi war criminal writing copy for Fillmore Auto Parts because she’s “following orders” is . . . well, actually, that didn’t ring true for me. A little over the top. But point taken, show.

I thought her response to Abe showed her pragmatism, and that she’s not unaffected by the movement — she’s inspired at least to question later why they are working with a company that refuses to hire black people (which in turn makes me wonder about SCDP’s employment opportunities for people of color) — but I also got the sense that she didn’t appreciate getting called out on her own privilege as a white woman, which she has, despite not being allowed into various country or athletic clubs. I liked that she opted to not get involved with a guy who doesn’t see past her beauty, though I admit I was sort of hoping that she’d get into the spirit of debate with Abe and we’d have a few more Carville-Matalin moments with them.

The most telling moment of this part of the episode for me, however, was when Peggy tells Abe that she’s not political and he says, “You’re political whether you like it or not.” And I saw this as a general statement, that she’s not political because she’s a pioneer for working (white) (middle-class) women, or that she’s working with a company with racist business practices, but that it’s not possible to live in the world and NOT be political, that who you are is influenced and informed by various ideological factors. I don’t know if this is how Abe meant it, but there it is. Everything is political, including this show, which sometimes makes its overt political references feel a little redundant.

Faye seems already involved with Don (VERY involved — that was some serious headboard banging going on at the beginning) and dare I say that Don seems very involved with her as well? That this might be an actual mature relationship? Which doesn’t stop him from using her with Sally, which Faye sees as a test (which it clearly was) of whether she’s stepmother material, and she failed, which brings up all the other times she’s been made to feel like a failure for not having kids (i.e., not living up to her “true” potential as a woman). What I loved about this story’s resolution (not that anything is really resolved) is that she and Don actually TALK about it, he does seem to listen to her at the end, instead of dismissing her concerns and feelings the way he would with Betty. And Faye and Don reach a point of calm, but she’s still looking pretty glum in the elevator at the end.

Which brings me to Joan. Was it just last week that Greg suggested that Joan talk to her friends at work, which made Joan start to cry because she doesn’t really have any friends at work? I guess Roger’s the closest thing she has to a friend. And I was about to write, “Not that Roger is interested in friendship,” but I don’t think that that’s necessarily true. I think that he does genuinely care about her, even if he does perpetually want “with benefits” attached to their friendship. And finally Joan’s defenses are down — Greg is going to Vietnam straight from basic training, and Mrs. Blankenship’s death has affected her personally (I want that to be a little more complicated than Joan seeing herself going down the same road as career Executive Secretary Mrs. B., but I guess that’s what it is) — and she agrees to have dinner with Roger, though I think three things are noteworthy about that dinner: 1) it’s at the least romantic place possible, even though Roger chooses it because it’s discreet; 2) Joan keeps him at arm’s length; 3) Roger says he doesn’t expect anything else to happen — but of course he’s thinking about it. They’re flirting at the diner, but it doesn’t feel loaded. And then they’re mugged, and Joan rides the adrenaline wave back into Roger’s arms.

But the morning after is far more interesting, with Roger trying to tell Joan that the previous night’s encounter meant something deeper for him — at least, I think that’s what he’s trying to tell her — and Joan essentially saying, “What happened happened, I don’t regret it, but it’s not happening again.” It would be easy for her to fall back into a relationship with Roger, and I don’t think she chooses not to for the sake of honoring her marriage. I think it’s because she doesn’t like who Roger’s become — and also maybe because she’s not that girl anymore, not that she’s married, but that she’s older. And wiser? (And sadder.)

And what can I say about Sally Draper other than she breaks my heart? She breaks my heart. Everything about this story broke my heart. You noticed the monogrammed necklace she was wearing, right? The one Don bought her (or had Allison buy) for Christmas? And the way she tried to bargain with Don to let her live with him — I’ll take care of my brothers, I’ll make you breakfast (holy crap, rum-soaked French toast sounds amazing), just please god don’t make me go back to that hateful woman. And again we see Don wanting to be that kind of father for Sally but not being able to. He can’t handle the tantrum, the force of violent emotion Sally unleashes once the reality of having to go home finally hits her. It’s such an honest moment for the show, too, to have Sally act very grown up until this point, and then dissolve into kicking and screaming.

This episode is bookended by two moments in which one character tries to reassure another. The first is when Roger finds out about Greg going to Vietnam, and he tells Joan, “It’s going to be OK.” Joan responds, “People love to say that.” The second is when Megan consoles Sally after Sally’s spectacular face plant: “It’s going to be all right.” Sally echoes Joan: “No, it’s not.”

That left me gutted.

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Was “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” the summer of ’65′s hot summer jam?

The opening of last night’s episode, “The Summer Man,” makes it seem like it would have been. And I watched Don Draper reach into his shirt pocket for his cigarettes as Mick Jagger sings “he can’t be a man ’cause he doesn’t smoke the same cigarettes as me” three or four times before I could move on. I don’t need to tell you how appropriate this song is for this show, do I? You know already. Great opening, particularly as Don strides into SCDP looking like the Don we all fell for in the beginning.

It would seem as though the impression I got from the end of last week’s episode, that perhaps Anna’s death and his time with Peggy signified a turning point for Don, was correct. It’s not that Don’s quitting drinking cold turkey, but he recognizes the problem and is cutting back — telling Mrs. Blankenship to return the four bottles of whiskey to the storeroom (how soon would he have gone through all of that, I wonder?), accepting a drink from Ken during a meeting but then putting it on the table, and when he does take a sip it goes straight to his head. The camera trick there (what’s it called? the shifting perspective thing?) along with the way the conversation fades out in his head — a nice way of rendering “dizzy.” It reminds me of how the first cigarette of the day would make me feel, back in those smoking days. (I never liked that feeling, but I knew that the next cigarette would be better. Whatever that means.)

And Don is keeping a journal — “like a little girl,” he says, but then again he says he’s having trouble collecting and organizing his thoughts, and there’s nothing better than a journal to help with that. As a narrative device, the journaling/letter-writing voice-over is not one of my favorite things, but I welcome the opportunity to get inside Don’s head a bit. Finally! Even if he’s not ready to get super close with anyone right now, he’s letting US in.

Now that Don’s cutting back on drinking and taking up swimming as ways of clearing his head of crap, he has time to process, for better or worse, things that are happening around him. Vietnam, about which he says “I hope it’s not another Korea.” Somehow this reminded me of my American history textbook in high school that referred to Korea as a “police action” and spent a single paragraph on Vietnam without once referring to it as a “war.”

And Gene’s 2nd birthday party, which Betty has told Don about, which he understands as “don’t show up.” He wants to go, but then again what connection does he have to this child, other than genetic? And he understands this as well, telling Faye that maybe it’s better that Gene thinks Henry is his father. But then Faye tells Don that Gene only knows the world that Don shows him, so Don risks a scene and goes to the party with an awesome stuffed elephant. And it winds up being kind of OK — Betty acts like an adult, even though the episode ends with the camera on her, looking at Don with an inscrutable expression. Does she still want him? There’s clearly still passion in the way she feels about him and she clearly still thinks about him a lot. Or is it just, as Don writes/says earlier, that now that she has what she wants (as she tells Henry, “We have everything”), she now longs for what she used to have?

This was the first episode in a long time — since Season 2, I think — that I found Betty largely sympathetic. Anyone who’s gone through a bad break-up, let alone divorce, knows that regardless of YOUR dating/marital status, it stings like a bastard to see your ex with someone new. And Henry should’ve respected that, although of course he’s entirely self-centered and can only see the wrongs Don has done to him (these wrongs can be neatly summed up in the sentence “he was there first”). So I’m going to side with Betty in the fight that she and Henry have in the car ride home (which so nicely calls back all the car conversations/fights Betty and Don used to have). OF COURSE she needs a drink after running into her ex while she’s being displayed like a trophy wife in order for Henry to advance his political career, and how dare Henry tell her that she’s “not allowed” to say things like “I need a drink.” I cheered when she responds, “I was in a marriage like that before,” even though it just fuels Henry’s resentment, and I think she’s right to call him out when he says that maybe they rushed into things. Yes, she used him as her escape plan, but as she points out, he hit on her when she was six months pregnant, so . . . yeah. Besides, he invokes Godwin’s Law way too fast. “I hate Nazis?” Really, Henry — that’s your volley?

The Joan/Peggy/Joey story is one that I foresee having many discussions about. It brings to a head and clarifies something that’s been on the periphery of the show for a while, namely Joan’s position (not just title) in the office. While at Sterling Cooper she had power over the other secretaries and knew how to work the male executives — provocatively and professionally — at SCDP she’s faced with a passel of next-generation men whose sexism is far more obvious and crude. I don’t think she’s trying to charm them into obeying her will; I think she’s trying to get them to recognize her authority, which they don’t, especially Joey, who apparently has a number of mommy issues he’s opted to take out on Joan. And I also don’t think Joan has the means to handle the situation herself — the hints to both Don and Lane, “There have been complaints,” seem hollow and lame — and responding to Joey’s offensive sketch with “You will all suffer in Vietnam” merely ineffectual (as well as echoing a number of Internet comments about Joan’s husband Greg from a season or two ago). And this is how she thinks she dealt with the situation? Why doesn’t she have the authority to fire him, if she is, as Peggy says, partly running the place? Why doesn’t she come straight out and say she wants him gone, when she had no problem doing this with the secretaries at Sterling Coop?

But it makes sense that Joan wouldn’t be happy that Peggy fired Joey. It wasn’t really Peggy’s battle, even though it affected her. And although Peggy plays it that she fired Joey for Joan, that’s not really what happened. Peggy didn’t say “You’re fired” until Joey undermined Peggy’s authority, and it comes on the heels of Don telling Peggy to use the power that she has. But for Peggy to seek out Joan’s approval also makes sense. Despite believing otherwise, and despite holding very different ideas about women in the workplace, I think Peggy has always sought Joan’s approval. I do see Joan’s point, that Peggy’s action completely undermines whatever authority Joan did have, and that no matter how much power women have, “[boys] can still just draw a cartoon.” Yes, but in a few years those cartoons will cost companies a fortune in sexual harassment cases. (Not always.)

(Would Joan have been upset had Joey been fired by Don?)

(Also, you know? Poor Joan. People use her office as a shortcut and she doesn’t have any friends at the office. I don’t think she had friends at SC, either, but now that she’s married does she have any close female companionship? Poor Joan.)

Randoms:

* What is up with Harry’s office, with the ornate couches and drapery? He looks like he’s working out of a hotel room. And was that an autographed picture of Buddy Ebsen on the table behind him? Hilarious, especially with the “Hillbillies” connection to the Mountain Dew campaign.

* Speaking of: Mountain Dew and vodka? Disgusting, yet a clear predecessor to Red Bull and vodka. I did like Stan’s “I’ll run this specimen over to the lab.” Stan wearing Mrs. Blankenship’s post-cataract surgery glasses was also funny. Crap, is Stan the new Ken? The guy I sort of don’t like but who kind of cracks me up so I wind up liking him even though he’s a jerk?

* Also: cocktails require three ingredients? Has anyone told the martini? Or is the martini not a “true” cocktail? There is much I do not know about drink terminology.

* I actually may have liked Mrs. Blankenship in this episode, at least at the beginning when she calls Don “Roger” as a joke. It’s funny because of the surgery she just had, but it’s HILARIOUS because of last week’s episode’s reveal that Roger and Mrs. Blankenship had a torrid affair. (Unanswered question of last week: do you think Joan knew about Roger and Ida?)

* So Greg’s finally off to basic training.

* Don throwing out all the boxes from his old house felt a little too apt.

* I liked the juxtaposition between Don’s dates with Bethany and Faye, where Bethany tries to be older and sophisticated (what the hell is she going on about with the whole “we’re of different generations”? Who talks like that?) but can only muster an inane Odd Couple question, while Faye is smart and engaging and flirtatious. I liked when she told Don that her father was “a handsome two-bit gangster like you,” and liked it more that he liked it.

* Having a hard time picking my favorite line from this episode. Don’s “Here’s a list of things I want to do: 1. Climb Mt. Kilimanjaro” is one; Faye’s “I don’t want you complaining that I don’t cook because I DON’T COOK” is another; Francine’s (yay, Francine!) “Oh, Betty. You have terrible luck with entertaining” is funny ’cause it’s true.

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Good God, y’all. OK, first: I meant to write up last week’s episode, I really and truly did, but then I didn’t, and you know, it’s just as well because I like the way last night’s episode, “The Suitcase,” provided some sort of continuity and maybe even closure to last week’s “Waldorf Stories.” But before I get into “The Suitcase,” I do want to say a few things about “Waldorf Stories”:

1. I absolutely, totally LOVED the whole “When Sterling Met Draper” story, whether it’s mostly fact or mostly fiction (Doesn’t really matter, does it?). LOVED that Don got his job in advertising by pretending that Roger had offered him the job (at least, that’s my take on what happened. I think it’s open for debate, but I figured the look on both their faces in the elevator at the end was indicative that Don had pulled something over on Roger).

2. Don’s lost weekend was absolutely, totally cringeworthy, but I admire the way it was done. At the time I wondered whether this would be Don’s rock bottom, but I wasn’t counting on it.

3. Peggy is awesome. I got a huge kick out of watching her call Stan’s bluff, stripping down to nothing. My sense of her is that she’s spent the first 23 or so years of her life being rather prudish and doesn’t WANT to be that way, but isn’t sure of how to be any different until she’s confronted with other options.

4. Welcome back, Ken! I loved this story, the great scene between Pete and Lane, the equally compelling scene between Pete and Ken in which Pete basically says, “Can you work FOR me?” and Ken says fine, except that smile on his face could be interpreted as “I’m just going to smile and nod, bide my time, and then GUT YOU LIKE A FISH.”

Now. “The Suitcase.” Or as I started to call it halfway through, “Six Rounds of Don vs. Peggy.” I love watching these two so very much and I was thrilled that most of the episode it was just Elizabeth Moss and Jon Hamm together, but I have to say that at the start of the episode I was wondering whether the writers had a bet going to see how hateful they could make these characters and still keep us watching. Harry Crane is such a . . . such a . . . such a DICK right now. And Mrs. Blankenship’s racist remark about throwing a dollar bill out of her window is probably in keeping with her character, but ugh! I was afraid the whole episode would be uncomfortable pants.

I was also not happy to see Duck’s return, because it did set up Peggy’s choice as between the drunk she was sleeping with and the drunk she’s working for, and when has Peggy ever NOT chosen Don? It seemed a little contrived to me, but then there were a couple other things that this story line did: first, is it me or did the first conversation between Duck and Peggy imply that they were still occasionally sleeping together? That maybe it had been a while but Peggy wasn’t being exclusive with Mark? Second, it would seem as though Duck’s drunken shenanigans at the Clio award ceremony led to his dismissal from Gray — I don’t believe for a second that he willingly left. Third, his present of business cards to Peggy — dubbing her the creative director of the new agency he just made up — proves that he, like Mark, doesn’t know Peggy at all. And she sees through his ploy, tells him she can’t take the offer seriously because he’s been drinking, which of course he denies, while he’s holding a scotch. I could have done without the final confrontation between them, the fight between two drunks clearly meant to parallel the Liston-Clay bout, but it is the only time that Duck’s had the upper hand with Don, so fine.

Besides, the verbal sparring between Don and Peggy was far more captivating, even surprising at times. I was riveted by these scenes — the arguing, the yelling, the retreat to their separate corners, the sharing, the understanding. I also liked the smaller moments — Peggy starting to take her coat off in her office and then thinking twice, not willing to let Don think she’s ready to stay for as long as it takes to get the work done, all the back and forth about whether it mattered that it’s Peggy’s birthday — first it does, then it doesn’t, then Don’s buying her dinner . . . none of it is logical taken together, but it’s an accurate portrayal of how two people who’ve been working together as long as they have, who are so alike in so many ways yet not entirely equals, relate to each other.

And the tape! Oh, the TAPE! So THAT’S who Dr. Lyle Evans is! How hysterical has Matthew Weiner been for the last couple weeks after everyone had an Internet freakout because Lyle Evans isn’t a real person from the 60s and it seemed as though the Mad Men writers were having a joke at our expense? Huge payoff, there. Brilliant. As is the idea that Roger and Mrs. Ida “Queen of Perversions” Blankenship had a thing. And this shared moment between Don and Peggy, his olive branch to her, heralds in a new age for them — a more open and trusting relationship on both personal and professional grounds. There were a few surprising moments in that — I didn’t expect Peggy to tell Don that everyone in the office thinks they’ve slept together, or that her mother thinks Don fathered Peggy’s child (which never occurred to me, but of course she would think that); neither did I expect her to hint that she knows what happened with Allison. And I would not have expected Don to break down in front of Peggy AND allow her to comfort him. These are people who don’t know everything about each other but now know ENOUGH to really get each other. I am 98% sure that I am not the only person who cried a little bit at Don’s vulnerability, and at the final scene between them, where Don takes Peggy’s hand and then Simon and Garfunkel’s “Bleeker Street” starts up. Good GOD, y’all. Great episode, or GREATEST episode?

(James Poniewozik writes about Don and Peggy’s relationship far more elegantly done than this. Go read it.)

Random observations:

* Not really random, but what do you think the odds are that Don’s going to sober up a bit now? Or maybe Anna’s death (RIP, Anna) will send Don even further into the bottle? The impression I got by the end of this episode was that maybe this would be his turning point, that maybe things would get better for him now, but I think it could go either way. I want him to be better, so I could be projecting.

* Another small moment, but Peggy’s “Hello, Ma” slayed me. And her “How long are you going to go on like this” to Don slayed me in a different way.

* I like that outside of her scenes with Don, Peggy’s almost one of the guys now. So that when she helps Don to the bathroom there’s a second layer of funny to her hesitation over which bathroom to bring him to, and her sort of awed/disgusted look at the urinals. She may not have been on a plane ever, but that Peggy Olson is going places!

* “Yes, I’m that important.” Oh, Mark. That was funny, but you’re really not.

* When Peggy says “I know what I’m supposed to want but it just never feels right,” I thought that was a nice little callback to Dr. Faye’s remark that her job is all about figuring out the balance between what people want and what’s expected of them.

* “Why is there a dog in the Parthenon?” “That is a roach. Let’s go someplace darker.” — First mice, then roaches. Next week: bed bugs!

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Apologies for getting this out so late. My internet connection has been finicky and odious and not only did it take approximately two hours for the episode to download from iTunes this morning, but as I write this I have no connection at all.

I have a feeling that last night’s Mad Men episode, “The Chrysanthemum and the Sword,” is going to be one that needs to simmer for a little bit before I pronounce judgment. I was uncomfortable during most of the episode and I think I started to misinterpret that discomfort as dislike, when really the episode is probably just as brilliant as previous episodes and if I think about it for a few days I will come to recognize that.

I also need to get this out of the way: SALLY DRAPER’S HAIR IS SO CUTE. OMG.

But, OK. To have Sally cutting her hair and masturbating (for the first time? I’m not sure) in the same episode seems both perfect and a little too perfect. Does that make sense? The cutting of hair is supposed to be, I think, a cultural marker of a woman’s sexual maturation. This is understood intuitively — Sally tells Phoebe that she wanted to look pretty, and Phoebe also understands that Sally wanted to look older. But it also made me think of The Rape of the Lock. (I know, of all things, but bear with me.) Pope’s mock-heroic epic poem about a man cutting off a lock of a woman’s hair likens that act to sexual violation in more than just the title.

What Wonder then, fair Nymph! thy Hairs shou’d feel
The conqu’ring Force of unresisted Steel?

Furthermore, Sally’s hair experiment garners more shock and disapproval (that SLAP, so hard that both Don and Henry go “Whoa!”), it seems, than her “public” act of masturbation (yes, she was technically in public, but the other girls were asleep, as we see her check. She also cut her hair in private. I’m just sayin’). While it’s possible that Betty is too humiliated to smack Sally again, or is simply at a loss and can only threaten to cut Sally’s fingers off, I think it’s telling that there isn’t a greater explosion over it — but then the sexual transgression has already occurred, with the haircut.

Or I could just be full of crap and the writers were only thinking about Judy Blume’s Deenie, in which not only does Deenie masturbate while in the bath (though Blume never uses that word), but she also hacks off her hair because the back brace she has to wear to fix her scoliosis makes her feel ugly.

(So my mind went to Pope before Blume. Once an English major, always an English major.)

Anyway. I am also sure that Sally views being sent to a psychologist as a form of punishment, particularly since none of her parents go with her on the first visit. What really killed me, out of all of this, is that Sally’s feet don’t reach the floor when she’s sitting in Dr. Edna’s waiting room. That actually choked me up a little.

I am glad, however, that Sally has a psychologist. We all knew she’d need one at some point. I am equally glad that Betty has a psychologist who will not tell her husband everything. I did read that correctly, right? Dr. Edna suggests to Betty that they meet once a month or so to check in? If, as Betty confirms, the purpose of these visits is not to discuss what Sally talks about, it stands to reason that these visits are for Betty’s benefit.

I understand why Betty was reluctant to discuss her previous therapy experience with Henry, and why she initially thinks it won’t do Sally any good — Dr. Wayne’s betrayal of her confidence back in Season 1 is still shocking to me. And I like that by the time she sits with Dr. Edna, Betty’s able to understand how the events of the past year might have taken their toll on Sally. Even though she still manages to make it all about her:

Betty: I feel like Sally did this to punish me somehow for everything.
Dr. Edna’s face: Srsly?

I was also impressed that Betty correctly pinpoints the beginning of these changes in Sally’s behavior (not that I think masturbation is bad behavior or in any way not normal, but would I think that as a parent in 1965? I don’t know) as the death of Grandpa Gene, also known as the only adult in Sally’s life who ever really “got” her. He teaches her to drive (bad judgment, sure, but from Sally’s perspective? Hello, awesome!); he doesn’t punish her for stealing his $5.00, but he knows and she knows he knows; he tells her she’s smart and can do anything she puts her mind to. His death didn’t just take Sally’s grandpa away, it took away her only ALLY, and a mere six months later her mother leaves to get a Reno divorce, and then immediately after that she marries another man. And now, Sally only sees her father every (other?) weekend and even then her dad leaves her to go be with another woman.

Sally: What’s her name?
Don: Bethany.
Sally: I don’t like that.
Me: Me either!

A couple random observations before I get to the Honda thing:

* Had I been Sally’s age in 1965, I probably would’ve been into David McCallum too.

* Mrs. Blankenship is a travesty, and it’s already not funny. Please don’t let this devolve into some sort of cliche sitcom thing.

* Funniest exchange on the show came early, with Roger’s laxative jokes and Bert’s exasperated, “We’ve had that client for 18 years, Roger.” Subtext: We’ve heard them all before. Multiple times. (True, since Sal and Paul have a go early in Season 1!)

* Smitty!

As for the SCDP/Honda plot:

1. I like it when Don gets all schemey. It felt like the end of season 3 when they create SCDP in the first place, with the 60s caper music and everyone playing a part. Interesting that Don turns to an extremely risky scheme in light of his disapproval of Peggy and Pete’s ham fight stunt. I realize that it’s a little apples vs. oranges, but still. (I was greatly amused by Peggy riding around on the motorcycle on the empty set.)

2. The scenes with Roger were super-charged and fantastic. It’s already been established, as far back as the first season, that Roger dismisses anyone who didn’t serve in WWII, including other army vets who served in Korea (like Don), but I still wasn’t expecting the sheer rage at the idea of possibly doing business with Honda.

2a. Pete’s speech, accusing Roger of wanting to keep SCDP dependent on Lucky Strike, was amazing. And how weird was it to see Don side with Pete there, given all their history? Interesting alliance shifts.

2b. Joan and Roger’s quieter scene was lovely. She is as calming an influence on him as Henry seems to be with Betty. Their scenes together don’t have quite the same punch for me as Peggy/Pete scenes, but these are also two people with a great deal of history, and I love watching them together.

3. HOWEVER. The Honda executives leering at Joan and the question, “How does she not fall over?” is a horrible, horrible misstep. It was beyond stupid. What purpose does that scene even serve? It’s not funny, it objectifies Joan in a way that not even Paul Kinsey ever managed to do, and it makes the Japanese businessmen look like idiots. Honestly, it’s the main reason this episode doesn’t sit right with me. (And the exchange between Joan: “Not very subtle, are they?” and the translator’s response, “No, they are not,” is all too easily interpreted as being about Joan’s breasts, not the Honda execs. This scene was a big heaping pile of crap.)

4. On a more positive note, I did enjoy the conversation between Don and Faye at the end, even though once again it puts the “theme” of the episode in Faye’s mouth, that people talk about stuff because it makes them feel better. And then Don starts opening up to Faye, and even though he’s drinking it doesn’t feel like he’s boozing. If the writers are setting the two of them up for a romantic relationship, I like the way they’re doing so.

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Last night’s episode of Mad Men, “The Rejected,” was directed by John Slattery (Roger Sterling), and a damn fine episode it was, too. It’s splendid (or rather, SWELLIGANT) on its own, but is also masterfully linked to events that happen all the way back in Season 1.

The focus group for Ponds, for example, begs to be compared to the one for Belle Jolie lipstick (“Babylon,” the 6th episode of Season 1). It’s there that Peggy first distinguishes herself, calling the wastebasket full of Kleenex blotters a “basket of kisses,” where the junior executives ogle and judge the secretaries from behind the two-way mirror, where the secretaries themselves squeal with joy at the thought of trying new lipsticks, and where Alison (yes, Alison) is perplexed by the survey questions put to her by the severe woman in charge of research.

The Ponds group turns into a group therapy session. While they are still being observed by men (and Peggy), there’s no leering, no voyeuristic delight taken in watching them. This is all business. And there’s no joy here at all. The women seem extremely reluctant to talk about their beauty regimen at first, as though they’re not supposed to have one — and really, almost all advertising for beauty products even today sends the message that women aren’t supposed to look as though they WORK at their appearance. (“Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline,” anyone?) And just when it seems as though they’re ready to start spilling and sharing their secrets, the meeting turns to despair. It ultimately doesn’t matter what we do to make ourselves beautiful, these women say — it’s neither appreciated nor noticed. And both Freddy and Faye misinterpret this outpouring of frustration as indicative of these women’s desire for marriage. While it may be true that they do want to get married, and it may be true that a woman’s worth on the marriage market is by and large her appearance, the callous way this vulnerability is parleyed into an advertising pitch is as stark as Pete’s father-in-law’s valuing a baby girl at half what a baby boy would be worth. (You think of your own daughter like that, Tom?)

But Alison sees things differently, and it’s clear that she’s still feeling Don’s rejection, and she runs out of the room crying after remarking, “It’s worse when they DO notice.” And in the subsequent scene between Alison and Peggy, it felt as though Peggy were channeling Joan in telling Alison to get over it. And I get where Peggy’s indignation comes from, as I’m sure she’s dealt with other people/co-workers believing that she was sleeping with Don at one point, and her harshness is completely in character — Peggy has never been all that sensitive to the needs or feelings of others.

And really, I think Alison was over it, for the most part, and what upset her wasn’t that she and Don were never going to turn their one night stand into an affair, but that he refused to explicitly recognize what happened between them and how it necessarily affected their working relationship. I mean, even Pete had the decency to talk to Peggy as soon as he got back from his honeymoon, to tell her that he was married now and nothing more could happen between them. (Of course, Pete goes back on this and treats Peggy pretty horribly afterward, but still.) Alison feels used (and she was used) and is looking for some sort of indication from Don that he SEES her. But when he responds to her request (well, more of a demand) for a letter of recommendation with “Put whatever you want into a letter and I’ll sign it” — I think this was and may still be fairly standard practice, to sign whatever letter an employee writes for him/herself — but of course to Alison it comes across as Don being unwilling or unable to say ANYTHING about her, to NOTICE her at all. And that’s sad. More sad than Don being unable or unwilling to describe what exactly his life is like right now — and I’m going with unwilling. Though his attempt at an apology letter to Alison was a step in the right direction, I think. I hope.

Joan, at least, seems to have Alison’s back in some way — putting Bert Cooper’s old secretary Mrs. Blankenship on Don’s desk is meant to be seen as a sort of punishment. Am I alone in hearing “Mrs. Blankenship” and immediately thinking “Mrs. Landingham“? Unfortunately it seems as though the former isn’t as competent as the latter, although “Dr. Miller is here to see you. It’s a SHE” was hysterical.

So Trudy is pregnant. Excellent. Interesting that this development had less to do with Pete and Trudy than it did Pete and Peggy. The scenes between those two always kill me, and last night’s episode was no exception. Peggy standing in the doorway to Pete’s office, offering congratulations, the long pause between them, and the lingering look between them at the end of the episode, with the closed glass door of the office separating them, Pete standing with the older businessmen and Peggy going off to lunch with the Youth Culture, that almost imperceptible nod and smile Pete gives Peggy and her smile in response — I love these two, and I love that they’ve managed to get to a place where they will never be romantically entangled again but will always be connected to each other and have that level of unspoken understanding (I also LOVED that they both deal with stress by banging their heads against something, be it column or desk [in fact loved the way Slattery directed so much action around the column in Pete's office]) — it’s bittersweet, and also strangely comforting.

Peggy had a number of outstanding moments in this episode. From peeping over the wall between her office and Don’s to telling new friend Joyce that her boyfriend may not own her vagina “but he rents it,” her non-reaction reaction to Joyce’s come-on, her telling the Warhol knock-offs that she’s Catholic, there was a lot to like about Peggy here. Almost enough to forgive her cruelty to Alison.

Finally, I was wondering when we’d see Ken Cosgrove again (Aaron Staton’s name has been in the main credit sequence all season), and it was clear to me at the lunch he has with Pete and Harry that Ken’s looking for a way in at SCDP. Or maybe he’s just looking wistfully in the windows of the place that rejected him (one of the many rejections touched upon in this episode). It always seemed as though Roger and Don went to Pete in the first place for the same reason Bert Cooper talks Don out of firing Pete way back in the early part of Season 1: because Pete’s family name is their ticket to the bigger clients. And while Ken Cosgrove may have been the better employee (Lane explains choosing him over Pete as Head of Accounts because Ken makes clients feel as though they haven’t any needs), Pete definitely comes into his own in this episode, by leveraging SCDP’s rejection of Clearasil into landing all the rest of the Vicks Empire. That was a great scene, where Pete tells his father-in-law that he wants all that business. Tom has always used the Clearasil business as a dangling carrot to get Pete to toe the family line, and now that Trudy is pregnant, Tom has nothing more to demand, really. Now Pete has the power. And he uses it. Tom calls Pete a “son of a bitch” and Pete shrugs it off, as if to say, “Yeah. So what?”

Besides, after Tom promised $1,000 if Trudy has a boy and $500 if it’s a girl, I wanted him to go down hard. Asshat.

Random observations:

* Don’s “Oh my God, there’s a FIRE” ploy to get off the phone with Lee Garner, Jr. was funny. That conversation was also historically accurate — Congress passed new restrictions on cigarette advertising in 1965, though I don’t know whether it was early ’65. In five more years, cigarettes won’t be allowed to be advertised on TV.

* Harry kills me with the Yiddish, this week muttering something about the “gonifs at CBS” (Gonif = crook).

* Freddy’s munching on Wise potato chips during the focus group. So long, Utz.

* So Joan’s office doubles as the observation room for focus group meetings. No wonder she looked put out as she gathered the women around the conference table.

* Speaking of, I totally missed the fact that SCDP has a conference table now, and actually did so by the second episode. I was sort of hoping they’d have the open discussion thing going for a little longer.

* It’s a small moment, I think, at the loft party, but I really liked it when Peggy comments that she likes the experimental film they’re watching because it’s rhythmic. It’s like, she may work in advertising and may be a little uptight and everything, but she sees things that go unnoticed by other people.

* David Kellogg — in joke?

* Thematic line of the episode: “You can’t tell how people are going to behave based on how they have behaved.”

* Fantastic line of the episode (aside from “No, but he’s renting it”): “Another Campbell. That’s just what the world needs.”

* Fantastic moment of the episode: “Did you get pears? Did you get pears? Did you get pears?” “We’ll discuss it inside.” — You think Don plays it close to the vest? This woman doesn’t even share PRODUCE information outside her apartment. Actually, I’m not quite sure what to make of that ending. I get it sort of abstractly, but am having a hard time putting it into words. Something about marriage and growing old together and Don looks sober for once and the addition of this elderly couple means the apartment building isn’t just inhabited by lonely single people . . . something.

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