Mad Men Season 1, Episode 6: Babylon

Don Draper put together a nice Mother's Day surprise for Betty - breakfast in bed.  Unfortunately, the toy that he obviously missed when he came down the stairs to make breakfast was his undoing as he climbed back up the stairs with a tray in one hand and the funny pages in the other.  Don lost his balance and fell down to the landing and all the way back to witness himself, as young Dick Whitman, there for Adam's birth.  Though it's not a real memory as he is picturing his younger self in his current house, watching a scene play out in front of him that happened somewhere else.

I'm not sure what this flashback/vision was supposed to tell us.  I suppose that Adam was still on Don's mind after sending him away with hush money.  Maybe he was thinking back to his first meeting with his brother being about as cold as their last meeting.  The biggest revelation from this first introduction to the young Dick Whitman was that as a kid he looked like Wolowitz from Big Bang Theory, followed by the fact that he hadn't learned proper grammar and that he was pretty surly ("he ain't my brother" he says of the new arrival).   

Now that Don has shut out the last connection to his past life, he's free to enjoy his new life.  We see Don the loving, happy family man, complete with red baloon.  At the end of the day, he's reading Rona Jaffee's The Best of Everything, and that seems to be what Don has.  (*The book was written in 1958 and is a soap opera-y book about women in the work place that was released as a movie the next year).

Lying in bed next to each other after a nice Mother's Day, the conversation turns to Betty's fear of aging.  She worries about her looks fading and that worry gets her thinking about her own mother, which makes her even more sad. And Don doesn't want her to go down the path of melancholy.  Perhaps because Don deals with his own sadness by a combination of (a) drinking, (b) philandering, and (c) pretending it never happened, he's uncomfortable with Betty having and expressing actual feelings. 

Their conversation in bed is illuminating in many ways.  You learn just how well educated Betty is, how out of her league Don really is.  He may be the one cheating, and she may be the one who thinks about him all day as she folds laundry and prepares dinner, but it looks like Don was the one who married up.  They seem so happy together, such a perfect match.  Betty is so deeply in love and deeply committed to her role as wife.   It's hard to reconcile this couple with the reality that one of them is so disloyal, able to have a similar level of intimacy with not one but two other women.

So big revelation #2: Joan and Roger are an item.  Well, that's interesting.  Joan had alluded to a fling with Harry Crane in the past, and she certainly was schooling Peggy on what is expected of women at the office.  She also mentioned wondering why Don never made a move on her.  But she and Roger never gave off any clue that they were together.  In fact, Joan makes a cute joke when Roger's wife Mona calls her and Don a handsome couple, "I don't go for handsome."  Poor Roger!

Unlike Don's mistress who doesn't want to hear about Betty, Joan seems more than willing to talk about Roger's wife and daughter. Really unique dynamic between the two. The way she took his daughter under her wing, literally and figuratively, at the office.  The way they seem so comfortable together, it feels like more than just an office offair.

Roger seems deliriously happy with Joan and she's more restrained.  Maybe she's been down this path before, maybe she knows what her role is.  When he suggests that he leave his wife and they go off together, Joan recognizes it for what it is - just talk.  She knows that cheating is part of the fun for Roger and he wouldn't be happier if they made their relationship legit.  He tries to talk her into getting her own place, so they can meet there instead of hotels, but Joan prefers having a roommate for company.  Roger suggests a bird could be company for her and she just laughs because she knows all he wants is for Joan to be his and only his whenever he wants. But not as an old, boring married couple.

We finally meet Freddy Rumsen, and he lived up to his elbow-bending reputation by being seen making a Screw Driver for his morning breakfast at work.  Freddy's a Neanderthal, asking the guys if they can figure out how to pitch lipstick, since he doesn't "speak moron."  Glad to know women are held to such high esteem.  So Freddy settles on a focus group of women from the office to give their feedback (via two way mirror).  It's fairly sexist and demeaning of women, and only Peggy doesn't end up looking like she's fluent in moron.

The men all gather to watch the "girls" and Joan, who knows the men are back there, makes sure to show off a little.  Roger had come in just in time to see her, and was pleased by what he saw, but less so when Ken said he'd like to stand and salute her ample ass.  The scene slows down and lingers on the divide between Peggy, who sits idly by while the other girls slather on the lipstick and stare at themselves in the mirrors.

Don is at a restaurant waiting for Rachel Menken, and his smile is a bit too wide when he sees her.  He may be married, with a mistress on the side, but he is still quite smitten with Rachel and happy for any excuse to see her.  The ostensible reason for the meeting is to get her help on how he can wow the Israel Tourism client.  Rachel is understandably irked that Don called on her as his token Jewish acquaintance and (not realizing he's actually done this) tells him to crack a book.  But reading Exodus is not getting Don the insight he thinks he can get from her.  Nor is it as fetching.

Rachel gives us the connection to the episode title, telling Don that Jews have been a people in exile for a long time, starting in Babylon. It's a feeling that Don may know as well, as we now know him to have fled some other place for where he is now.  What Rachel tells him about Israel, and about her feelings about the Jewish state as an American (and not very religious) Jew is a simple truth - she doesn't have to live there, Israel's importance is in that it exists.  Jews have to know that a place for them exists, like anybody needs to know that there is a place where they are accepted. Don may not know such a place exists for him - the real him - so he creates a fictitious person who will be accepted everywhere.

Don reaches for Rachel's hand, but she shuts him down again, this time by using some literary knowledge.  She tells him about the two meanings of the word utopia - the good place and the place that cannot be.  That is their relationship in a nutshell.

After the brainstorming session with the secretaries, Freddy comes to pick up the waste basket with tissues to see what were the most popular colors.  Peggy is there and as she hands Freddy the trash, she says, "Here's your basket of kisses."  That's the most clever thing Freddy's heard in long time (or maybe it's the vodka) and he's intrigued.  He asks Peggy some questions, but Joan is shooting darts her way. Joan doesn't like Peggy talking to the execs like she's an equal, she needs to know her place.  After Joan dismisses Peggy, she says to Freddy "I bet you wish you could pour that in a glass and drink it" and it's not clear if she really believes he was hitting on Peggy or is this just a nod to his imbibing.

Freddy goes to Don to tell him about his encounter with Peggy and what great insight she had saying, in one of the best (if most sexist) lines ever uttered: "it was like watching a dog play the piano."

Rachel may be playing it cool with Don, but she's smitten.  She calls her older sister and talks to her about her crush  She wants him but she knows it's probably not going to happen what with him being married, not Jewish, and a drunk in no particular order.  But still the heart wants what it wants.  

Freddy would like Peggy to help write some ideas for Belle Jolie lipsitck, but instead of asking her directly, he has Joan ask her.  We don't want Peggy getting a big head or thinking this makes her any more important than any of the other "girls!"  She makes sure to let Peggy know that this means more work for the same pay and that she better not let this side project get in the way of her secretarial duties. 

Don, after being spurned by Rachel at lunch, heads over to mistress #1 Midge for a little romp in the hay but... hey Roy! Nice to meet you.  What are you doing here?  Before Roy's interruption, you see a glimpse of the extent to which sex, and cheating, are like air to Don.  He attacks Midge like a hungry dog after a discarded bone, he must immediately fill the void with someone and that's where Midge comes in. 

Roger also heads off after work to recharge his batteries, but he has more luck with Joan who is ready and willing, if just a little late, for their after-work delight.  Roger has a present waiting for Joan - a bird to keep her company.  Roger doesn't want to share Joan with anyone so he hopes that the bird will be all the companionship she needs when he's oh, say, with his wife.

Midge, Don and Roy are at a Greenwich Village style coffee shop where an Eastern European sounding beatnik is doing what he thinks is art while Don tries not to look like the dad chaperoning his daughter's date.  This highlights the generation gap that is just starting and will swell and grow to be large enough to swallow an entire decade.  For the first time, the younger generation will not look up to their elders, eager to grow up and join their ranks. They will look to the older generation with disdain and a sure sense of their moral superiority.  The older generation looks upon the youth with a mixture of fear and loathing  The divide will be between the perceived crass commercialism and war-mongering of one versus the free love and brotherhood of the other.

Don - the physical embodiment of the rigid older generation - wants to get out of there, but Midge makes him stay to hear her friend, who comes on stage and sings the Waters of Babylon.  As he hears the lyrics, a call out to Zion, is he thinking of Rachel?  Is he thinking about how out of place he feels, not just here in the hipster coffee shop but in his own skin?  Or is he thinking, actually I spent more time on my hair today than Roy and Midge put together?

We see vignettes play out over the folk song By the Waters of Babylon - Rachel at work in the store, Betty at home with Sally (applying lipstick like those hens in the office), Joan at the hotel post sex with Roger.  She leaves with her bird in a cage, he leave a few seconds later, standing just feet apart, but as strangers.  It's a lot of sad.


QUOTES:

Betty: To think one of the great beauties, and there she is, so old.  I'd just like to disappear at that point.
Don: I promise you, Bets, The first sign of crow's feet and I'll put you on an ice floe.

Don: Mourning is just extended self-pity.

Roger: Aren't you even gonna have any of this? Look, we've got Oysters Rockefeller, beef Wellington, Napoleons.  We leave this lunch alone, it'll take over Europe.

Don: So, we have a quasi communist state where women have guns, and it's filled with Jews.

Freddy:  I don't speak moron. Do either of you speak moron?

(Off camera): They're brainstorming.
Paul: I wouldn't expect more than a few sprinkles.

Pete: At what point to we run electricity through the chairs?

Peggy: Here's your basket of kisses. 

Rachel: A country with those people, as you call it, well it seems very important.  ... I'll visit, but I don't have to live there. It just has to be.  For me, it's more of an idea.

Don: Utopia?

Rachel: Maybe.  They taught us at Barnard about that word Utopia.  The Greeks had two meanings for it, eutopos- meaning the good place, and outopos- meaning the place that cannot be.

Peggy:   I don't know I don't think anyone wants to be one of a hundred colors in a box.

Freddy: It was like watching a dog play the piano.

Joan: You know what they say.  The medium is the message.

Roger:  The way you glide around that office like some magnificent ship.
Joan:  Well, I don't want to be a distraction.  Shall I order horse blinders for the rest of the office?

Roy: I bet Don here can tell you first hand, Broadway's the birthplace of mediocrity.
Don: Maybe it's born there, but I think it may be conceived right here.

Roy: So what do you do, Don?
Don: I blow up bridges.
Midge: Don's in advertising.
Roy: No way.  Madison avenue? What a gas!
Midge: We all have to serve somebody.
Roy: Perpetuating a lie, how do you sleep at night?
Don: On a bed made of money.

Roy: You hucksters and your tower created religion of mass consumption.
Don: People want to be told what to do so badly, that they'll listen to anyone.
Roy: When you say people, I have a feeling you're talking about thou.
Don: And I have a feeling that you spent more time on your hair this morning than she did. 

OBSERVATIONS:

Love their college course related double entendres, right up to Don saying he flunked advanced reproduction and Betty saying it was because he was caught cheating.  Good one, Bets.

The people from Israeli tourism say they plan to meet with Mr. Bernbach - he was the advertising genius behind the VW bug ad that got the SC people talking last episode. Here is a copy of an ad for Israel tourism that ran in the early 60s, as you can see, they did use the Bible to advertise.

The song at the end of the episode is set to Psalm 137 which references the Jews in exile from their true home, their sadness at their loss and their desire to reclaim what was taken.  How does this relate to Don?  Does he feel alienated and banished from some place where he belongs?  Is this because of his new name/identity?  Is it because the times they are a-changin'?  

Rachel mentioned that Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann was just arrested which puts this episode at sometime after May 23, 1960. 

WHORE COUNT: 
Prostitution was a sacred rite of practice in Babylon according to Herodotus (and why would he lie to us?).

SUICIDE COUNT:
One of author Rona Jaffee's other novels, Mazes and Monsters, dealt with people being driven to suicide.
Roger mentions that one of Mona's ex-boyfriends committed suicide.

Lack of Subtlety winner:  Salvatore loves Joan Crawford.
Lack of Subtlety runner up:  Sal doing an early version of Fashion Police, rating the style of the women behind the two-way glass.

Oh how quaint things were back then: The heavy-handedness of Joan's interaction with the women in the office one can only hope is overdone for effect.  The notion that the secretaries would be so intimidated by an offer to try out lipsticks is a scary one.  "It's called brainstorming."  "That sounds intimidating.  Is it like a test?" Ugh.

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Spoilery observations (Don't read unless you're caught up) - You've been warned 

Continuity error - Don talks about their relationship being he best year of his life but we see in a flashback in Ep. 4.6 that they'd been together many years earlier. 

Continuity error two:  When discussing her own mother's death, Betty says: My mother looked handsome Actually vivacious and positively cheerful right up to her end.  It's good remembrance.  Later in  Ep. 7.13 Betty says watching her mother die was awful and she didn't want Sally to ever have to see anything like that. 

Rachel talks to her sister Barbara about falling for Don. Her sister tells her that at 28 she needs to start thinking of getting married before she ends up an old maid. She does eventually get married and have two children but Don does not forget her.  

Mad Men Season 1, Episode 5: 5G

Tonight's theme is secrets.  We all have them, big or small.  Whether it's a secret desire to be a published author, or a husband's secret bank account, a secret affair or a secret past, they are there, lurking, weighing on us, waiting to be exposed. As much as we claim we want honesty and openness, sometimes secrets are better left unrevealed.

As the episode starts, life is good for Don Draper.  He's well-to-do, successful and handsome, married to a Grace Kelly look-alike, with two adorable kids and a perfect two story suburban home.  He and his beautiful wife come home dressed to the nines, tipsy after a night out celebrating him winning an advertising award.  Things could not be better.  And then Don shuts the bathroom door as a new day begins... and the horseshoe on the award turns upside down.  Subtle it's not.

Foreshadowing is lack of subtlety's thematic kid brother, and after Don retorts, in response to receptionist Allison gushing about his photo in Advertising Age, that no one reads that magazine, we know that someone will read it. 

But before that shoe drops, congratulations are in order.  No, not for Don and his advertising award, but for account executive Ken Cosgrove.  Turns out that when he's not busy being a lecherous lout, Ken is something of a budding John Cheever and has managed to get a short story published - in the Atlantic Monthly, no less!  Pete and Paul are bright green at learning of Ken's achievement. Following on the heels of last week's episode, where we learn that Pete has been raised to believe where you come from is everything, it is not surprising that Pete is most upset that Ken - a nobody from nowhere - has accomplished something he hasn't. Paul's frustration is a tad different.  He's the copywriter, he's the one in creative, it should be his work being published, not some pencil pushing account exec.

Right after a meeting on a new promotion for a bank client, focusing on a private "executive" account for men to keep separate from their family account, Don is called at work by his girlfriend Midge.  Her lack of discretion costs him when Peggy picks up the phone and listens in on some of her telephone foreplay.  Don leaves for lunch and Peggy looks nauseated. We later learn that she thought Don wasn't like that (since he had rebuffed her) and she is sorry to find out he's just another husband who cheats on his wife.

After they have sex, Don takes the time to scold Midge for calling him at work.  She is taken a little aback, but tells him that part of him must like her calling.  She knows that she's important to him; he comes to her place all preoccupied and distracted, but then seems to change once they're together.  Almost as if he's two different people.  Get it?

So turns out Pete has this secret desire to be a writer and he shows Trudy one of his short stories.  Trudy doesn't really like it, she's not into talking bears (she doesn't get it was actually the hunter's internal thoughts).  It's gnawing at Pete that Ken, his peer at the office, has one up on him now, with a story published in a national magazine, the type Pete's father reads.  He wants that recognition.  Pete suggests that maybe her old beau who's in publishing could help get Pete's story published.  Trudy is surprised that Pete wants her to go to the man she used to have sex with to ask for a favor for her husband, but she does not realize just how desperate Pete is to accomplish something that might make his father proud.  Even if it comes from using his wife to make it happen.

Back at the office, the topic of Ken's story looms just as large as it does in Pete's bedroom and the place is thick with jealousy.  Don jokes when Peggy interrupts him that he's happy to get out of the meeting, but when he hears who is there for him - Adam Whitman - he's no longer in a joking mood.  Surprsingly, and maybe this is just a director's mistake, Don begins engaging the man in the reception area, in front of the receptionist and others in the office.  This man, like the man on the train last episode, knows Don as "Dick."  He saw Don in Advertising Age and recognized him right away. And that, Don, is why you never say such things out loud as "no one reads that."

Finally, Don moves Adam away from prying ears.  He tries the old, I think you've mistaken me for someone else, but Adam isn't buying it. He claims to be Don's younger brother, all grown up. He says when he saw the picture, he thought he'd seen a ghost, so he likely thought that "Dick" was dead (which, to Don, seems to be the case).  Adam notices that Don won't make eye contact with him and, more than that, he knows what he knows.  Don, realizing that Adam won't go away and that this won't go away, tells him to meet him at lunch.  He goes back into the meeting, but he's not thinking about business anymore.

The lunch is awkward and uncomfortable. Adam is there for a joyous, miraculous family reunion, Don is there because he has no choice.  He has to deal with this, but his discomfort is palpable.  There is a wall up around him and Adam's attempts to scale it are not working.  Don doesn't want to hear about "mom" ("She wasn't my mother. She never let me forget that.") or Uncle Mack.  He barely acknowledges anything, only cracking ever so slightly to offer Adam that, yes, he was missed. 

Elsewhere, another reunion is taking place.  Trudy is at her old boyfriend's office, being friendly and asking for this favor, all so Pete can prove to his father that he has accomplished something.  But Charlie the ex is not over Trudy, not by a mile.  He wants her and doesn't care that she's married.  It'll be their secret.  Trudy doesn't play along and so the best that Charlie can do for Pete is to publish his story in Boy's Life.  If he wanted a prestigious, national magazine, Trudy would have had to sleep with him.  Turns out, that would have been just peachy with Pete. 

Back at the office, Peggy thinks she knows a secret.  She thinks Don is off having an afternoon tryst with the girl on the phone and when Betty and the kids show up at the office, she's panicked.  She runs off to find Joan, spills the beans on Don's affair and her only moment of clarity comes when she says that she is the worst secretary.  Yep.  The word "secret" is right there in the name!  She is not at all comfortable with helping Don keep his private life separate from his home life and she doesn't appreciate when Joan later tells her that's part of the job.  Perhaps this hits too close to home since she was, briefly, Pete's other woman.

The lunch is not going well and Don keeps saying he's sorry to Adam, but not much more.  When Adam presses to find out more about "who is Donald Draper" something snaps and Don is done.  He gets up from the table, pulls himself together, and tells Adam that "this never happened."

Back home, Betty and Francine talk about their husbands and the difference between how they are at work and how they are at home...almost like they're two different people.  Betty later talks to Don about how nice his secretary is, how pure she seems, and the subtext is pretty obvious that an executive's secretary is a source of great interest to the wife.  Betty also wants to talk about the upcoming summer and how she'll miss Don while she and the kids spend August in a cooler climate, but Don is distracted.

Don can't stop thinking about Adam.  After burning the photo of him and a much younger Adam, he calls and agrees to see him again at the hotel where he lives, in room 5G.  He is not going there to invite Adam to Thanksgiving, but the reason for the visit is unclear. We're supposed to wonder what Don has in the valise he's carrying and what his plan is.  We can rule out crossbow or katana, but other than that we are clearly supposed to consider that Don could have a gun and be planning on silencing Adam for good.  The directing went a little heavy handed on the big reveal and tried to set up that Don could be a cold blooded killer, but he's just cold blooded.

Don doesn't have a weapon.  He instead came to Adam to buy off his silence.  He brought 5Gs (get it??) to give to Adam in exchange for him disappearing and never coming back into Don's life. To keep the secret of Dick dead and buried for good.  But Adam doesn't want money. Adam wants family, he wants a chance he never thought he'd have to reconnect with his previously-thought dead brother.  But Don has a life, a new one, and there's no room in it for anyone from his past life.  Adam is devastated, but Don does not see any other way out.  He offers Adam a lot of money to leave New York and start anew, like he apparently did. 

Don was affected by his meeting with Adam.  He may brush it under the rug and claim it never happened, but it's left an impact.  When Betty says she wants to talk to him, he's convinced she knows something about his secret.  But she doesn't.  She wanted to talk about buying a summer home with some of that extra bank he made that year, but since he just gave it all away, they won't be able to do that.  Small price for Don to pay to continue his life as it is.

OBSERVATIONS:

So we do, and we don't, have an answer to the question "Who is Don Draper?"  He's not Batman, he's Dick Whitman, thought to have died long ago.  He has a baby brother Adam who thought he saw him once on a train long ago, in a uniform (we know that  Dick was at Ft. Sill, an army base, and "Don" was in Korea), after he had supposedly died.  We know that he left home and never returned and did not think much of his "she wasn't my mother" as upon learning of her death from stomach cancer, he responds, "good."  We know that all of this is a secret that Don is keeping and that he was willing to do anything to keep the secret, including giving roughly $40K in today's money to keep his secret safe.  We also learn that he must have some fondness for Adam, the embrace seemed genuinely touching, but Don is not planning on ever looking back.

It's hard to imagine that one could turn their back on their brother like this.  If that place was so bad, one would think it would have brought them closer together.  But Dick/Don left, had them think he was dead, and planned on never reconnecting with his brother.  On one side, whether at the diner or in the hotel, there is eager, yearning Adam, on the other, so physically close yet emotionally so far away, is the cool, distant Don.  Don didn't just change his name, he changed everything about himself (notice how Adam says he looks more like himself at the hotel).  He thinks Adam should do the same and he gives him the money to do that.  But Adam isn't Don, he doesn't want to move forward.  He wants to connect with this part of his past.

Midge uses the alias Bix Beiderbecke, and is a bit turned off to find that her boyfriend isn't familiar with the jazz musician.  It will not be the last time that we are hit with the fact that Don is part of the old guard and not the new generation.

Notice Betty's comment about how perfectly normal-sized Sally looks fat in the portraits.  Someone has issues!

Paul Kinsey was just as upset as Pete was about Ken getting his story published.  He was very childish about it and you realize for all Paul's posturing he's just as insecure as Pete and Harry.   When he tried to apologize to Ken, Ken just threw it back in his face. The four midlevel execs are starting to be fully fleshed out and their differences are becoming more apparent.  Ken is stronger than he appears,  Paul much weaker. And Harry seems the most...normal.  It'll be interesting to see their character development over the course of the series.

So many secrets in this episode: the secret bank account for Liberty, the secret tryst with Midge, the secret Ken had about his article (before it ran), all the other Sterling Cooper men secretly wanting to be published, the secret Peggy thinks she's keeping from Betty, the secret she fails to keep from Joan, the secret fling Charlie wanted with Trudy, Joan's belief that being a secretary means keeping your bosses' secrets, Don's secret other life, Don's secret stash of money, I'm losing count.



QUOTES:

Don: No one wants to look like they care about awards.

Midge: I want you to pull my hair and ravage me and leave me for dead.

Paul: He kept walking around like the idiot he is.

Midge: I like that you come in here, acting like somebody else.

Midge: I like being your medicine.

Roger: I guarantee you that in the bottom drawer of every desk in this place is the first ten pages of a novel.

Peggy: I don't know who to lie to.

Peggy: I'm the worst secretary. 

Betty (to Peggy): Don't you just hate it when his mouth runs on and on? * * *
You probably know more about him than I do.

Adam: Who is Donald Draper?

Don: I'm not buying your lunch... because this never happened.

Paul: Kenny, I know I've been a bear.  But I've been competing neck and neck with  people in this place.  I didn't know I was competing with you, too.
Ken: You lost.

Joan (to Peggy): I have never come over here and not seen you with a look on your face that said, "I need a drink."

Pete (to Trudy): You don't want me to have what I want.

Trudy: I could have gotten you in the New Yorker or in the Encyclopedia Brittanica if I wanted to.

Betty: A woman can't just not remark on her husband's secretary.  

Don: Adam, listen to me.  I have a life and it only goes in one direction.  Forward.

Adam (to Don): Everyone always said you were too smart for your own good.  Of course, Uncle Mack thought you were soft. But you're not, are you?
Don: No, I'm not.

Don: You thought I was dead.  Just go back to thinking that.

WHORE COUNT:
Pete questions why Trudy wouldn't take one for the team.

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SPOILER-Y OBSERVATIONS (READ ONLY IF YOU'VE WATCHED THE WHOLE SERIES)

The "this never happened" mantra has been utilized many times since, most notably when Don instructed Peggy to move on past her giving birth and giving the baby up for adoption. 

Don mentions that he doesn't like the way her father looks at him and we later learn that her father never wanted her to marry Don, never liked or trusted him. 

Mad Men Season 1, Episode 4: New Amsterdam

We open to the sounds of Bob Newhart's 1960 comedy album, The Button-Down Mind of Bob Newhart, coming from inside Pete Campbell's office. Pete, Harry, Paul and Ken are listening to and laughing along with the album.  Not laughing is Pete's secretary Hildy who notifies Pete that Mrs. Campbell is there.  The newlywed groom, who so recently waxed romantic about married life, is noticeably put off by Trudy's unexpected appearance at the office.  Trudy is hurt, but undeterred, and less than a month into the marriage we get our first inkling that their marital dynamic may not turn out to be what Pete wants. 

You can't help but love Don's attempts to be nice, complimenting Pete to his wife with such glowing words, yet the pained expression on Don's face says it all.  But the true pain is in Peggy's eyes as she has to stand there in front of the happy couple and pretend to smile.  I did enjoy Trudy's comment of surprise that Don was so nice - so not what she imagined.  We can guess at what she'd heard about him from Pete.

If you are one to feel sorry for Pete being the butt of jokes at the office, prepare to discover that he's treated better there than in his home life.   We observe the total emasculation of a man in 1,500 sq. ft. of apartment space in just under two minutes.  Trudy wants what she wants and she wants it now and Pete has no choice but to give it to her.  And if he's not man enough to do it by himself, well then they'll get the help they need. Because she's not about to wait for what she wants.

Rachel Menken can't have what she wants and she's not about to pretend that she can.  Don tries to talk to her, asks if they can have lunch, but she knows it wouldn't lead where she wants it to lead, so why bother. 

Betty is living the suburban mom dream, reading bedtime stories and tucking her children in for the night, promising that Dad will be there when they wake up in the morning.  The next day, we see her out walking the new dog when she comes across a man pounding on Helen's front door.  Betty tries to ignore the man, doing the normal "it's none of my business" head down tactic, but he approaches her and asks to use her phone.  He's Helen's ex and he says it's his turn with the kids, but Betty says she's not about to let a strange man into her home and off she scurries.

Helen comes over some time later to apologize - she was at the window and saw her ex talking with Betty.  Betty invites her to stay and chat.  What she says about her ex must sound familiar to Betty - he didn't care enough to spend time with the kids when they were married, his work in the city was his priority.  Betty asks what happened (she meant, over at the house) and Helen takes it as an invitation to answer what all the hens have been clucking about behind her back.  And the story she tells could not more closely parallel Betty's situation - Helen's ex Dan (how conveniently similar!) was always in the city doing this and that, only this and that turned out to be a number of women. 

Into this confab comes Don, after a long day's work.  He looks confused and unsettled by the presence of Helen in the house and quickly goes upstairs for what Betty says is his nightly ritual of some quiet time.  When she explains to Helen that Don "works so hard" it's difficult not to imagine that Helen is a wee bit suspicious about what qualifies as work.

Does anyone in 2014 remember when you used to keep your living room furniture covered, protecting it until you had company over?  Pete is sitting on a wrinkled bed sheet covering a couch, nursing a drink.  He looks quite uncomfortable.  The man in the uncovered chair is his father, straight out of an LLBean ad for the weekend on the Cape.  If we all had the chance to see our coworkers with their parents, how might our perceptions of them change?  Rather than the obsequious go-getter trying to scratch and claw his way up the corporate ladder, Pete is a sad, unappreciated little boy whose father belittles him and claims he doesn't know what Pete does for a living, calling it "no job for a white man."  Interestingly, Pete actually looks more masculine, more powerful as he's staring down his father than he does when surrounded by his peers at work.

Pete gathers up all his courage and discusses the reason for his visit.  The apartment that Trudy wants is expensive and they'll need some help to afford it.  He deals with his father disparaging the neighborhood, after listening him do the same Pete's job and chosen profession, because, one assumes, Pete believes that all this abuse is worth it to make Trudy happy.  Only, Pete's father is not playing along.   "No, I don't think that's a good idea," he says about the loan.  Things degenerate rather quickly from here and we learn that Pete was, in effect, to the "manor" born and now his father believes he has squandered what should be his by birthright. They're not going to give him anything more than he's already received from them - his name.

When Trudy, after Pete comes home, asks him "Did you have a nice visit?" we expect she'll get an earful.  But he lies to her, says he didn't bring the matter up about the loan, citing some health problems his father has (perhaps, the absence of a heart?).  She asks what's wrong with him and this time Pete tells the truth, "Nobody knows." 

Pete is back to his usual self the next day at the office as he brings in a client, Walt Veith, for a pitch meeting.  Walt is from Bethlehem Steel and they make their pitch based on something the client had said looking out at the city.  "It's all steel."  So they present a retro ad with buildings from various big cities with the tag line - brought to you by Bethlehem Steel.  The client hates it and Don at first is willing to throw Sal's art work out if that helps, but it's the whole approach the client hates.  Don gets defensive and snitty quickly, but Pete intervenes.  A power struggle breaks out, with Don defending the pitch - reminding the client that it is exactly what they talked about - and Pete defending the client - telling Don that if this isn't what the client wants they'll come up with something else.

Pete's week is not getting any better.  Once the client, and Sal, leave the meeting, Don closes the door to lay into Pete.  Pete's job is handling clients, Don's job is making pitches.  Don wants Pete to know that he feels he failed in his part of the job, getting the client ready to hear - and love - the pitch.  But Pete is not content to be the account exec, he wants to be an idea man as well.  He already tried in the Lucky Strike meeting, and he weighed in briefly during the Secor meeting; he wants his ideas heard.  It's not hard to see what's going on here.  Trudy tells him what to do at home, his father tells him what he does - that he - doesn't matter.  Pete is going to get the respect he thinks he deserves somewhere.

Helen Bishop is back in the Drapers' life, this time asking Betty for emergency babysitting.  Betty obliges, and we have another awkward Betty-Helen interchange.  Helen is getting read to go out to work on the Kennedy campaign, Betty is not up on the candidate (other than to know he's handsome, though no Don Draper, mind you) and assumes Helen is going out because there might be an eligible bachelor there.  When Betty arrives, Helen's creepy son Glen is playing Liebesträume, a romantic piano piece that translates to Dreams of Love which will come into play shortly.

In the second go-around of asking for familial help in getting the apartment, Pete and Trudy fare better.  Her father is happy to invest in Pete and his little "Jellybean" and their future.  Trudy's father envies, rather than mocks, Pete's job and Trudy's mother is happy to hear that he's thought of well by his boss - though watching Pete react to the description of Don as his boss is fun.  But their support and offer of help doesn't make Pete any happier than his father's rejection.  He doesn't want to have to take her parents' help and would prefer they don't get the apartment if they can't afford it on their own.  Poor, prideful Pete.  It's not about what you want, Lovely.  Just a couple weeks into the marriage, Pete realizes what he's in for, and he's not at all happy about it.  What happened to the guy who felt baptized by their wedding vows?

What a beautifully framed shot of creepy Glen and Betty on the couch watching TV.  I love Glen holding an apple (better to tempt you with my dear) and the sound of gunshots from the TV western his mother said he could watch before bed.  Betty leaves to go to the powder room and wouldn't you know if but someone I've been calling creepy Glen barges in on her while she's peeing.  But before that, Betty goes all CSI:Real Housewives and starts rummaging through Helen's drawers.  Not cool.  She's particularly fascinated by Helen's birth control pills (that trollop!).  So karma comes into play as her privacy is invaded by Helen's son.  

The whole scene only takes a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity that she is there, with her pants halfway down, and Glen refuses to just back out and shut the door.  Yes, we can wonder why Betty didn't lock the door, but we're too busy wondering why Glen would just stand there and keep looking at her.  The creepy moniker is sticking to you like wet on water, kid.  A few minutes later, he's back on the couch, looking chagrined, and Betty gives him a lecture and demands an apology.  The whole scene is uncomfortable - she is looming over him, angry, he shrinks in tears, then hugs her hard when she offers a soothing pat on the back.  He says she's pretty and then the creepiest thing happens.  No, not Glen asking Betty for a piece of her princess-like hair.  Betty actually complying.  You don't even get to wonder what she was thinking - she's not thinking at all.  Betty says she's 28, but she's acting no older than Glen - not making a grown up decision, but acting like an elementary school girl who's flattered by the attention.


Pete continues to try and prove that he is not some lowly account executive, but a man with ideas. He has arranged a nightcap for the Bethlehem Steel client which involves the company of some working girls.  Walt wants to get down to knowing more about the ladies, but Pete tries to sell him on a pitch about Bethlehem Steel being the backbone of America.  Walt just wants to party and tells him he's off the clock and Pete cannot catch a break.

Back in Ossining, Betty doesn't tell Helen about the bathroom or the lock of hair and goes home to find Don asleep after having worked on night on his pitch for Walt tomorrow.   Don and Sal make the pitch and Walt likes it, but he thinks Don is doing the old bait-and-switch.  This is the idea that Walt is supposed to pass on so Don can come in with the pitch Pete mentioned last night.  Only, that was not an official pitch - Don knew nothing about Pete's backbone idea.

Pete looks like the cat who ate the canary, so proud is he that his idea carried the day (regardless of the fact that the client thought it was Don's idea).  He has been trying to reclaim his masculinity, trying to be the important, creative person he wants to be, and he's accomplished it.  His father can reject him, his wife can control him, his in-laws can own him, but he showed Draper that he's just as good at coming up with ideas as Don is.  This is a red letter day for Pete.

Only, that's not how things work around Sterling Cooper.  Rather than getting a pat on the back from Don for giving the client what he wants, Pete gets the boot.  His sad, defeated walk back to his office, the tears, the bottle of booze, it's all so tragic.  All Pete wanted was some satisfaction from his job, some appreciation.  And now he has a mortgage and no job. 

Only, that's not how things work around Sterling Cooper.  Because Pete Campbell is Pete DYCKMAN Campbell, an old family with great connections throughout New York.  He is the company's entrée to the upper echelon of power.  Pete stays.  Don at first thinks it's a him-or-me situation, but Bert lets it be known that Don is very important to the agency.  Don doesn't like when things don't go his way, so it will be interesting to see how he deals with Pete in the future.  But for now, Roger is going to put on a clinic on how to make lemonade. 

Roger concocts some story about how Pete was fired, but Don came to his defense, saving face for Don and also making Pete more of a supplicant to the person he feels saved his job.  And Pete is none the wiser that his lineage is a powerful ace-in-the-hole that gives him some special privileges at the office.  And not just there. When he goes to visit the new apartment, all they want to talk about there is that now there'll be a Dyckman living in the building!  What Pete has to offer Sterling Cooper, his wife Trudy, and his new neighbors is his lineage, nothing more. We should at least respect that Pete wants to be more than his name, but right now that's all he is.

The penultimate scene, with Roger and Don, is a classic one.  They're maybe ten-fifteen years apart in age, but Roger is a whole other breed.  He's from the "greatest generation," those who fought in WWII and would still like the younger generation to show some appreciation.  They're from the "when men were men" time, where you didn't complain about every slight, you manned up.  He's disappointed by what he sees in the men coming up now, even though he recognizes that this sentiment is as old as time.  Don sees things a bit more clearly with his one line:  "Kids today, they have no one to look up to 'cause they're looking up to us."  If any one line explains the sixties, the generation gap, and the chasm that still separates the Tom Brokaw generation from those who came up after it, it's that one. 
 

QUOTES:

Don (about Pete): He's essential to the process around here. I think we're almost as happy to have him as you are. 

Trudy: I don't think that's possible. 

Don: Well, maybe you're right. 

Pete: Why is it so hard for you people to give me anything?
Mr. Campbell: We gave you everything, we gave you your name, and what have you done with it?

Don: Would you prefer an I-beam on a plate with a pat of butter on it.

Don: Sterling Cooper has more failed artists and intellectuals than the Third Reich.

Don:  Listen, Pete, I need you to go get a cardboard box, put your things in it, okay?

Sal (to Pete):  You picked the wrong time to buy an apartment.

Don: Remember Pete Campbell's last day? It's today.

Roger: There are rules.
Bert: There are other rules.

Bert: New York City is a marvelous machine, filled with a mesh of levers and gears and springs, like a fine watch wound tight, always ticking.

Bert: How much do you know about Pete's family?
Don: Nothing, except they put out a mediocre product.

Roger (to Pete):  I know that your generation went to college instead of serving, so I'll illuminate you.  This man is your commanding officer, you live and die in his shadow, understood?

Bert (to Don): You're going to need a stronger stomach, if you're going to be back in the kitchen seeing how the sausage is made.
Don: Thought it was a big watch.

Roger: I bet daily friendship with that bottle attracts more people to advertising than any salary you could dream of.
Don: That's why I got in.

Roger (to Don): You don't know how to drink, your whole generation.  You drink for the wrong reasons. My generation, we drink because it's good, because it feels better than unbuttoning your collar, because we deserve it. We drink because it's what men do.

Roger: Your kind, with your gloomy thoughts and your worries, you're all busy licking some imaginary wound.
Don: Not all imaginary.
Roger: Yeah, boo hoo.
Don: Maybe I'm not as comfortable being powerless as you are.

Roger: I don't know, maybe every generation thinks the next one is the end of it all. I bet there were people in the bible walking around complaining about kids today.
Don: Kids today, they have no one to look up to 'cause they're looking up to us.

OBSERVATIONS:

Bob Newhart started out as an advertising copywriter and his comedy routine came out of funny phone calls he used to make with a coworker. Sterling Cooper is filled with execs who dream of leaving the office to pursue some other passion and Newhart was someone who made that dream a reality that has now spread over 50 years.  Interestingly, the first track on the album is “Abe Lincoln Vs. Madison Ave,” in which he portrays an advertising/publicity executive who tries to keep Lincoln on message at Gettysburg.

The title of the episode "New Amsterdam" was a Dutch settlement at the southern tip of Manhattan Island; you may know by its current name, New York. 

Oh, the little dig Pete has at Trudy's expense.  "I only make $75 a week. Now I know that you're not good at math, but that's $3,500 a year."

Does anyone else miss records?

WHORE COUNT: 1 (3 total)
Pete's father describes his son's work as "whining and whoring."

Pete introduces Walt to some of his attractive, female "cousins" at a bar after work.

Mad Men Season 1, Episode 3: Marriage of Figaro

The "Marriage of Figaro" is the name of a comedic opera written by Mozart in the late Eighteen Century (about ten years after we Americans launched our revolution against British rule and just a couple years before the French people declared their own revolution).  Why this title?  The four-act opera is about love and lust, cheating and faithfulness, class distinctions and relative power, but also about mystery and intrigue - hiding one's identity and then revealing the truth. Before the episode is over, we should have an ample supply of all of those things. 

The episode begins jarringly with a chummy, chubby man on a train approaching the dapper Don Draper, convinced he is some other man he used to know - Richard Whitman, from Ft. Sill (a US Army post outside of Oklahoma City).  The gregarious Larry muses over old times and engages in some quick catching up with his old pal "Dick."  Don doesn't correct him on a mistake, rather he shares in the old memories and promises to keep in touch.  He did blink a bit excessively and look over his shoulder repeatedly during their brief, odd exchange, but other than that, Don maintained his composure remarkably well during what looks like a case of mistaken identity.

Pete Campbell gets quite the welcome back from the office upon returning from his honeymoon, which confuses us as much as him until he opens the door to his office and sees the surprise waiting for him.  "Who put the Chinamen in my office?" he asks as he backs into the hall and quickly shuts the door behind him.  Everyone (except for his secretary, Hildy) laughs at the prank and goes back to business.  Peggy greets Don with news of the hijinks, "They paid an Oriental family to be in Mr. Campbell's office," which allows Don to retort, "Someone will finally be working in there." 

But Don isn't being funny so much as denigrating as we can tell from his sour demeanor in the office meeting with Paul, Ken and Sal to discuss the Secor Laxative account.  Sal suggests they use humor, a la the VW bug advertisement that Don was looking at on the train.  But Don hates the ad and hated their ad last year, "Think Small" - a half page ad on a full page.  So does Roger, but Pete likes the approach.  And even Don, who hates it, recognizes that they are talking about it and it must be having some effect. The meeting goes nowhere, after highlighting the divide between the old way of thinking about advertising and this new school that Pete and Sal seem to appreciate.  Kudos to Pete, in particular, for standing up for what he believes in.  A mid-level exec with his eyes on ascension is usually more of a sycophantic toady rather than an independent thinker.

I found the parallels between Pete's awkward reunion with Peggy and his with Don to be notable.  She is all smiles upon seeing Pete approach her desk, but he quickly lets her know that things have changed now that he's a married man.  She goes from beaming happiness at his return to quiet sadness in a matter of seconds.  She understands the rules, what happened between them never happened.  Conversely, when Pete is alone with Don, he's expecting a warm reception and leads the way, letting Don know that he missed him (oh how Peggy would have loved to hear that).  But Don cuts him down with a withering, "then it must not have been much of a honeymoon," before sensing Pete's hurt and offering Pete a sliver of the camaraderie he so dearly craves from Don. 

The girls of the office are tittering about Lady Chatterley's Lover, the then-scandalous D.H. Lawrence novel of love and sex between a taciturn working class married man and an upper class married woman.  Joan is returning the book, which she much enjoyed, but poo-poos the idea of letting Peggy the demure one read it, thinking it would be too shocking for her.  What with its tale of wild sexual escapades between a man and woman married to others, it's clearly not suited for someone as prim as Peggy Olson, according to Joan. Oh, Joan, aren't you familiar with the saying "Still waters run deep?" There's more to Peggy than meets the eye! 

Speaking of sexual attraction between an unmarried couple, the office meeting with Rachel Menken over recent research on her competitors is giving off a lot of heat between the client and Don, which does not go unnoticed by Pete. The pheromones sent out between them are so heavy it's surprising they didn't create their own weather pattern. The presentation seems to be going quite well, it's detailed and thorough.  Only...the suggestions made by the researcher, Mr. Pelham, reflect things her store already offers.  Turns out, none of the men in the meeting took the time to actually visit Menken's Department store, so busy were they in scoping out the competition.  Now, they didn't come straight out and admit that.  Ken and Harry tried to pretend they had been to her store, but Don quickly recognized that this approach was failing.  So he in effect admitted their mistake, apologized for the oversight and promised to correct it that afternoon.

Harry Crane also noticed the looks between Don and Rachel, but he's not as troubled by the flirting as Pete is. The way Harry looks at it, when you're married, there's nothing wrong with a little flirting.  Pete agrees that a married man can have fun in this limited way, but he always thought Don wouldn't take it any farther.  Watching the looks that passed between them in their brief moments together, he's now not so sure.  But newly-married Pete, like Harry, is still marveling at the wonders of married life, just the fact that there will be dinner waiting for him when he comes home.  It couldn't possibly get any better than that.  As he leaves for the evening, he readily turns down an invite to join the group after work.  Yet he takes the time to tell Peggy that she looks nice.  Well, Harry did say that there are some things that a married man can still do.

Don's visit to Menken's Department Store nets him a new set of cufflinks - medieval knights - and a tour of some of Rachel's favorite parts of the store, especially the rooftop where the security dogs are kept.  These dogs, and their younger incarnations, gave Rachel some of her happiest moments growing up and she wanted to share that with Don.  She tells him about her childhood and as she bares her soul to him, he kisses her.  But then he utters those two words that you really don't want to hear after your first kiss.  "I'm married."  Don doesn't wear a ring, so Rachel had hoped this meant he was single, but she never asked because she was worried about the answer.  And now she knows.  She doesn't want to be the other woman (little does she know she'd be the other, other woman) and so she leaves in a hurry and asks that someone else be put on the account.

Don looks upset as he sits on the train heading home.  But is he feeling guilty and, if so, over leading Rachel on, or because he wanted her to be okay with his being married?  Does he realize what a pathetic jerk he is?  He can't even be faithful to his mistress!

The next morning, it's all unicorns and rainbows as the Drapers get ready for little Sally's birthday party.  Don looks decidedly un-Draper-like, wearing just a t-shirt and khakis.  He's quite the hunky specimen, as Francine notes (love when she asks Don if he'd like company in the shower).  He's building Sally's playhouse, but seems to require a six-pack of beer to get through the job.

The party starts and Don could not possible look any more uncomfortable in his own house.  When Francine's husband, Carlton, asks rhetorically how "Mad Ave" is treating Don and remarks that they must be taking good care of him, marveling "We got it all," Don looks at him with thinly veiled disgust and responds, clearly mockingly, with "Yep, this is it." Yet Carlton is as clueless as the husbands were when one of them told the "who do you save, your lawyer or your wife" joke in front of all the not-amused wives.

This little piece of 1960 domestication is straight out of a time capsule, with the discussion of the polio vaccine and boys playing with BB guns.  So when Helen Bishop shows up in slacks (!), it's really noticeable how different she looks from the married ladies.  The husbands look at her like she's a rare steak and they haven't eaten for a week.  Betty gives Don his orders - get the cake, don't forget - like you always do - to take movies at the party. It seems that neither the husbands nor wives are happy with their respective partners, but they all play the game.

The men might be obsessed with the new divorcée and her sex life, but the women are just obsessed with her upsetting the apple cart of their domestic suburbia with her differences.  She goes for walks, "swinging her hips" it is noted, around the neighborhood.  It unnerves them, where is she walking to?  They don't understand her; she might as well be from Venus.

Don has his camera out and he shoots a cute moment of the kids running around, with Sally waving to her daddy.  He also catches the tail end of an awkward exchange between Helen Bishop and Carlton, when she takes his offer to help with her son Glenn as what it likely was, an invitation for an affair.  She's been down this path before and puts Carlton in his place very firmly.  Don also espies another couple, this one happy together, their tender, loving moment standing out in stark contrast to everyone else's lives of quiet desperation, and this gives him pause.  It's as if he's seeing what's could be real, but for him is just an act.  The whole day has felt like that.  Assemble the big present, welcome the guests, make small talk, take the movie, get the cake.  He's sleep walking through the role of husband, neighbor, father.

He drinks some more while in the backyard, listening to the kids playacting their version of married life.  It's not a pretty scene, the backbiting and sniping, the petty grievances.  This is the most depressing view of married life since Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.  Inside, the women are still cattily discussing Helen, though Betty tries to stick up for her, saying it must be hard working with two children. Outside, Don is briefly joined by Helen, who seems to feel a little of what Don's feeling, but soon Betty observes her husband outside with that woman, and whatever sympathy she felt for Helen disappears.  She quickly breaks up their chat, sniping at her husband to get the cake.  Let me step out of narration to mention what a bang up job Jon Hamm does in displaying Don's exhaustion and resignation in this moment.

Don has the cake in the passenger seat of his car and returns home, only he doesn't pull in to the driveway.  He slows down, then just drives off.  Yes, Don ditches his daughter's birthday party and takes the cake.  For someone who's already shown himself to be a serial philanderer, he has now sunk to a new low.  Helen rescues the party from total collapse with her frozen Sara Lee cake and those who are still at the party do their best to sing a jolly birthday wish for Sally (producers didn't spring for the cost of the official Happy Birthday song - Mad Men had a small budget first season!).

Night comes and Don is still in his car, alone, in front of the train tracks, staring as a train passes in front of him.  Back at home, Betty is cleaning up - and her hands are back to shaking - when at last Don makes his return.  We hear a dog bark and Sally squeal in delight.  Daddy is home and he brought her a doggy and as excited as Sally is, that's just how angry Betty is. Not only did he neglect his responsibility, go AWOL for the afternoon, and leave her to deal with the repercussions, but he comes back the hero with a dog they didn't even talk about ahead of time. 

OBSERVATIONS: 

When we first saw Don, he was looking at a full page ad for a fairly new product, the VW bug.

It was a bold ad for a bold innovation in cars.  Not just for the small size and unique styling, but for the fact that we'd just wrapped up a war against Nazi Germany not 15 years earlier, and now they wanted to sell us cars built in a Wolfsburg plant originally built by the Nazis.  It was a new approach for advertising, using humor and the product's apparent weaknesses and turning them into strengths.  The Bernbach that Roger refers to was William Bernbach, the creative mind behind this ad. He also came up with the "We Try Harder" slogan for Avis and the "Mikey" commercials for Life cereal.

Francine's anti-Semitic comments about feeling "uncomfortable" during Spring Break in Boca Raton harkens back to Don's "not on my watch" comment about whether they've ever hired a Jew.  Francine did not feel comfortable around those people, and Roger noted to Don that they didn't have any Jewish admen because they felt more comfortable working with other Jews.  Kudos to Betty for chastising, if only mildly, Francine for her "big nose" comment.  

Was anyone else surprised to learn that Betty graduated from Bryn Mawr, one of the prestigious and rigorous Seven Sisters Colleges?  And that she traveled abroad, circa 1954 (around the time of the movie Three Coins in a Fountain).  Neither of those things were common at all for young women in the 50s and gives us a little insight into Betty, that there may be more to her than the nervous Suzy Homemaker we've met. 

QUOTES:

Paul: Here comes Romeo without his roe.  Like a dried herring.

Roger: I want the Chinamen out of the building by lunch.
Don: I'm still waiting on my shirts.

Peggy: I understand.  It never happened.

Don:  I was raised that men don't wear jewelry. 

Roger:  I'll tell you what brilliance in advertising is - 99 cents.  Somebody thought of that. 

Pete:  I missed you. 

Don: Then it must not've been much of a honeymoon.  

Rachel:  it's hard to get caught in a lie. Don: It wasn't a lie.  It was ineptitude with insufficient cover.

Harry:  Draper?  Who knows anything about that guy.  No one's ever lifted that rock.  He could be Batman for all we know.

Don: Don't try to convince me that you were ever unloved.

Rachel:  What do you do, just kiss women all the time? Women you aren't married to?

WHORE COUNT: 0 (2 total)
Though Peggy is warned not to read LCL on the train, lest men get the wrong idea.

SUICIDE COUNT: 0 (1 total)

THIS NEVER HAPPENED COUNT: 1

Lack of subtlety: Pregnant Francine drinking mint juleps.
Lack of subtlety runner up:  Father smacking someone else's kid in the face.

Oh, things were so quaint back then:  Betty only made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the kids because everyone eats that.  These days, we're so fearful of allergies, no one would think of having peanut butter within five miles of a kids' birthday party.   Lady Chatterley's Lover was scandalous, to be passed around in secret.  These days you see 50 Shades of Gray in nearly every woman's hands.

 

**********************************************

Spoiler-y observations (don't read unless you're caught up)

Carlton says to Don, we've got it all and Don replies, yep, this is it.  But both men are lying.  They're not satisfied and are cheating on their wives, looking for that something more that will make their lives better. 

First introduction to Glen Bishop who stays connected to the Draper family for years. Also first time we see Allison who later becomes Don's secretary until Ep. 4.04. 

Rachel tells Don the family store originally sold hosiery.  In Season 7 when the agency is coming up with new ideas for selling Topaz pantyhose, he thinks of reaching out to Menken's Department store.  He dreams about Rachel and then finds out that she recently died. 

Mad Men Season 1, Episode 2: Ladies Room

Season 1, Episode 2, "Ladies Room" raises the question the show wants us to be asking, "Who is Don Draper?"  From the dinner with the Sterlings, to the late night questioning by Betty, we are clobbered over the head by the fact that Don does not talk about his past. And we realize that Betty has not pushed the issue as she went through an engagement, a wedding, and two children without needing to get any details on Don's side of the family.  Was it her passivity, and perhaps fear of learning hard truths, that caused her to be so content not to know?  "Who is in there," she asks as he sleeps.  He's her husband, the father of her children, and she doesn't know the answer to that simple question.  That says more about her than it does Don.

But the title of this episode is "Ladies Room" and it is in those rooms we learn about the women of Mad Men.  Roger Sterling's wife, Mona, marvels at Betty's beauty which she believes will keep Don faithful, as if men only cheat on or leave their wives because of some physical failing on the wives' part.  Betty, so poised and charming at dinner, is a huge ball of nerves in the bathroom, fumbling with her lipstick and still misty over her mother's recent death.  Yet she gets no comfort, just help reapplying her makeup and a request to move along.  At the office ladies' room, Peggy sees one of the other secretaries in tears and while she starts to offer help, Joan signals to leave the poor girl alone.  You may go into the ladies room to cry or break down or try and pull yourself together, but you won't find any solace there.

Outside of the literal ladies room, we see the spectrum of issues facing women in 1960. There's Peggy receiving unwanted attention from Ken Cosgrove, while Joan trades on their sexuality to get their lunches bought for them.  Paul Kinsey flirts in a more restrained way and even suggests that Peggy look at the work he's submitting to Don (and mentions that there are women copywriters). His comments are the first hints that women have an option of becoming anything other than someone's wife or have anything to offer beyond their looks.  Back in the suburbs, Betty and her friend Francine are gossiping about the new neighbor, Helen Bishop - a divorcee no less! - and they shudder to think what it must be like to be a single mother.  But rather than feeling sorry for Helen, they seem almost offended - how dare she be divorced with two young children.  There goes the neighborhood!

Betty passes by the new neighbor during her move in, driving with the kids (mostly) in the backseat and suddenly she loses control and crashes the car (albeit at a leisurely 25 MPH).  What has her so riled that she's losing feeling in her hands, can't concentrate enough to maneuver down her own street?  What was so unsettling about what she saw?  Betty is a wreck, but how can this be?  Her life is perfect.

And what is her loving husband doing while this is going on?  Visiting his girlfriend Midge for a little afternoon romp.  Their fun is interrupted when Don starts grilling her about the new TV in her apartment, accusing her both of hypocrisy and alluding to her getting it in trade.  She doesn't take to his accusatory tone and quickly launches the set out the window, without even checking to see if anyone is lingering on the street below.  The set goes crash, you hear a woman scream in outrage (though, thankfully, not in pain), Midge chuckles and Don says that is better.  It's very disconcerting scene - these hedonistic, bourgeois dilettantes who don't care about whether they hurt anyone else by their actions. The TV out the window is just a metaphor for what Don is doing to his marriage, after all.

Don comes home to an idyllic scene, his beautiful wife and children around the kitchen table.  He makes up some story about why he couldn't be reached about the car accident (he attributed it to a besotted Freddy Rumsen, our first mention of that character). He looks a bit chagrined; while an agile liar he at least seems somewhat troubled by it (the nervous cough).  The conversation turns back to Betty's hands and her anxiousness and she says the doctor suggested she see a psychiatrist.  During the earlier dinner with the Sterlings, Roger mentioned his daughter was the last girl in her group to go to a shrink, so we know that's become more socially acceptable.  Yet Don doesn't understand why she should need it.  How can she not be happy?  She's beautiful, married, has a nice home, two children. 

The next day, in the brainstorming session on the new aerosol Right Guard, Don may not realize that Betty's unhappiness is on his mind.  Yet he asks, what do women want?  He's given it some thought.  We think they want the cowboy, bringing the cattle home safely.  But "what if they want something else?" he asks.  Inside, perhaps, "some mysterious wish that we're ignoring."  Yes, Don, just imagine that.  Do you know what Betty's wish is (other than a husband who comes home every night)?

Like the pilot, I am surprised to see a fairly emasculated Don Draper, at least in the office.  He can't push around senior partner Bertram Cooper the way he can the mid- and lower-level execs at the office and his opinion is completely ignored when he tries to weigh in on Bert's desire to go after the Nixon campaign.  When he finally agrees - as if there were another choice - Cooper dismisses him with a patronizing "Goodie" and then lopes off, shoeless, back to his office.  Did Don catch Cooper's message?  Cooper says that he knows better than the client what the client wants - a theme repeated in the show whether it's the number of times pitches are made contrary to what the client asked for or, more potently, by someone sexually asserting themselves despite resistance or objection.  Why ask what a woman (or anyone) wants - you know best.

 
Meanwhile, Paul Kinsey tries again with Peggy and this time he's successful at getting a lunch date.  She gets a sandwich with him then he shows her around the office, describing what each department does.  He even mentions to Peggy that there are women copywriters, which she seems surprised to hear. Paul is nouveau-hip - he says "dig" and talks about another agency where everyone smokes "Mary Jane." You get the impression that he's more evolved than some of the other guys in the office (like Don who refers to Peggy as "Honey").

Don is still hounded by the "what do women want" question, enough to ask Roger.  His response?  A Sterling-esque, "who cares?"  Roger dodges the question about his daughter seeing a psychiatrist - that conversation never happened, mind you - but does give Don some advice - "I think it behooves any man to toss all female troubles into the hands of a stranger."  Don doesn't think much of shrinks; the one he knew in the army was a gossip, he says.  Roger sees them as necessary, but Don questions why anyone would be unhappy with all they have.  Don, are you happy?  Is that why you drink so much and sleep around on your wife?

Don actually comes home after work this time.  He's a bit pickled, having started drinking with Roger.  He has a surprise for Betty, a new white gold watch.  Now she has everything - more happiness!  Only...she's still upset about the accident and how much worse it could have been and she's just really out of sorts.  She still wants to see someone, she's not happy and she doesn't know what's wrong with  her.  But she needs Don's blessing.  He seems to waver.  The next day, he agrees to take her into the city to see a psychiatrist.  What a good husband.

While Betty's with the doctor, Don goes to see Midge.  He mentions his wife, and she asks him not to - it makes her feel cruel.  But it doesn't seem to bother Don at all.  There's a compartment over here for the girlfriend, a compartment over there for the wife.  Simple.  He tries, unsuccessfully, to figure Midge out.  Is she happy?  Does she have everything?  She says, "nothing is everything."  They're perfect for each other.  It's one thing to lie to other people, but to be able to lie to yourself that well.  That's a special kind of skill.

By the end of the episode, we discover that Paul is really no different than Ken or any of the other boorish guys at the office - Paul just hid it behind the aura of hipness.  He takes Peggy's agreeing to have lunch as a sign, as she later puts it to Joan, that she is the dessert.  She rebuffs Paul (and how telling is it that he won't accept that she's saying no unless there's another man), then Peggy gets an earful from Joan about how her work is suffering.  Peggy is tired of being treated like a piece of meat and complains to Joan who is so sympathetic.  "You're the new girl, and you're not much, so you might as well enjoy it while it lasts."  But Peggy did enjoy some of it, because in her desk we see the postcard that Pete sent to Ken from his honeymoon.  She runs to cry in the ladies' room, but seeing another broken-hearted secretary stops her in her tracks.  She's not going to be like that girl.  Peggy composes herself and walks back out, determined.

Betty is on the couch, talking with her psychiatrist.  She's nervous, anxious, she has trouble sleeping.  At first she's reluctant to talk, but soon she's mentioning her mother's recent death.  She's mentioned it to Mona and now to the doctor, and when she brings it up she acknowledges that she's already talked about it.  It's so obvious that this has unhinged something inside her, yet no one asks her about it.  It's sad.  Whatever you think of Betty, she's clearly hurting and she's being fairly open about what's bothering her, yet no one seems to hear her.  So she shuts down, takes off the watch that Don just gave her and lights up a cigarette, offering randomly that "we're all so lucky to be here." 

Don and Betty have a lovely dinner and they're gorgeous and perfect and Betty has regained control of her hands - one agilely squeezing a lemon, the other holding Don's.  It's all so sweet, if you didn't remember that Don just came from seeing his mistress or if you skip the scene afterward where Don calls Betty's therapist.  He gets the lowdown on what Betty talked to her psychiatrist about.  Don's betrayal of his wife know no bounds.

Season 1, Episode 2 
QUOTES:

Don: I can't tell you about my childhood.  It would ruin the first half of my novel.

Don:  Just think of me as Moses.  I was a baby in a basket.

Betty: When you're with strangers you know exactly what you want.

Don: Well, I'd like to think I always know what I want. 

Don: I was raised to see it as a sin of pride to go on like that about yourself.

Joan (to Peggy): You'd never know you were the very bottom of the food chain. 

Bert Cooper: I always thought it was Sterling who was responsible for the Navy attitude around this place.

Bert: So much yarn, so little time.

Don (to Betty):  I always thought people saw psychiatrists when they were unhappy. But I look at you and this, and them, and that and I think, are you unhappy?

Don: whar do women want?  ...  What if they want something else? Inside, some mysterious wish that we're ignoring.

Paul:  Creative is just window dressing.

Paul: I mean, you can always tell when a woman's writing copy, but sometimes she just might be the right man for the job, you know?

Paul:  Account management. Where prep schoolers skip arm-in-arm, "Wizard of Oz" style, joined together by their lack of skill and their love of mirrors.

Roger (to Don):  I can never get used to the fact that most of the time it looks like you're doing nothing. 

Don: What do women want?
Roger: Who cares?

Roger: I think it behooves any man to toss all female troubles into the hands of a stranger.

Don:  Who could not be happy with all this. 

Roger: Psychiatry is just this year's candy-pink stove.  It's just more happiness.

Don: I can't decide if you have everything or nothing.

Joan: You're the new girl and you're not much so you might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Betty: My mother always told me that it wasn't polite to talk about yourself. 

Don: What do women want?
Midge:  Well, one of the things has to be not being asked something like that.

Psychiatrist: I had a very interesting hour with your wife this afternoon. She's a very anxious young woman.  I think you're doing the right thing.

OBSERVATIONS:

We don't know how long has been working at Sterling Cooper but it seems that he's well respected and important.  Paul tells Peggy that he's the Creative Director.  Still, even with this title, he makes the quip that dinner at Toots Shorr means Roger likes him, Four Seasons means he trusts him. 

After just one session with the psychiatrist Betty has the manual dexterity to squeeze a lemon wedge one handed. He's a miracle worker. 

Roger's wife Mona is played by his real-life wife Talia Balsam (daughter of a wonderful character actor Martin Balsam and ex-wife of George Clooney)

After Betty mentions her mother's recent death, Mona says nothing but we hear what she should have said, "Sorry."  Only the sorry comes from one of the attendants who is asking the ladies to move along so others can use the mirror.

This is our first introduction to Bert "the sock man" Cooper.  He's an odd duck, but smart.  He knows that what's best for Wall Street is what's best for his company on Madison Avenue and so he's backing the Republican candidate for president, Richard Nixon.  The only problem is Nixon doesn't want to hire an ad agency for his campaign, though the Ted Rogers they refer to was not only a former TV producer, but had worked in an ad agency.  The disastrous debate between Nixon and Kennedy was, actually, in large part due to Rogers being kept from Nixon before the debate and not due to his lack of understanding about how politics and TV could work together.    

Betty imagines the worst after her car accident - not that she could have killed the kids, but that Sally might have had a scar that would have left her miserable and lonely for the rest of her life.  Betty was raised that a woman should be beautiful so she can find a husband and live happily ever after.  Only, she did that and she's decidedly unhappy.  That is a huge theme for the show - how you can conceivably have "everything" and yet not be happy; that happiness comes not from material possessions but from something else, whether family, or fulfillment, or making a contribution.  Betty, the pretty prized possession, is not happy despite seemingly having it all.

This theme continues with Don's mistress, about whom he wonders whether she has everything or nothing.  "What do women want?" is the consistent question, but no one knows the answer.  Don thinks Betty must be happy with her perfect face, her handsome husband, her big house, her cute kids.  When Roger throws out the line "We live in troubling times," Don responds, "We do?  Who could not be happy with all this?"  It confounds him that Betty could "have it all" and not be happy.

Don tries to placate her with more "things" - baubles, bright and shiny to scare away the bad feelings.  But Betty has troubles that even a new watch can't solve and he finally gives in to letting her go to a psychiatrist (and let's think about that sentence in today's world when a husband would not be asked his permission for something like that!).  

Lack of subtlety: Pregnant Francine smoking
Lack of subtlety runner up: Sally being scolded for wearing a plastic bag over her head...because the clothes that came in the bag may be wrinkled.

Oh, life was so quaint back then: Most restaurants wouldn't serve your raw eggs these days as they'd worry about the lawsuits if someone suffered salmonella poisoning.  The aerosol revolution, now just an ozone layer-puncturing memory.

WHORE COUNT: (2 for the series)
Paul: "My favorite aging whore, radio."

"There's even a third option, paying you."

SUICIDE COUNT:
Paul is late because someone threw themselves in front of a train.
He later says he'd kill himself if CBS cancelled the Twilight Zone.

 ********************************************************************************
SPOILER-Y OBSERVATIONS (READ ONLY IF YOU'VE WATCHED THE WHOLE SERIES)

First mention of Freddy Rumsen - Don mentions him, and his alcohol problem, by using him as an excuse for why he was unreachable when Betty and the kids went to the hospital.  Freddy is finally of real help to Don in Season 7, when he gives him a symbolic kick in the ass with the instruction to "Do the work."

Don was very judgmental about this Bohemian girlfriend having a TV.  Years later, he surprised his wife (who was trying to live a Bohemian lifestyle in the hills of California) with a brand new color TV.

Fans were surprised by Bert Cooper's somewhat hostile turn in Season 7, but you can see in his first scene that he wants things his way and has little patience with his underlings.  Same with Joan.  She could be quite bitchy with Peggy and was set up early to be someone not to be crossed.

Paul Kinsey talks about another agency that is much cooler than theirs - "all they do is smoke Mary Jane and play darts, and honestly, I think they're the best store on the street."  He doesn't stick around to the late-60's when that's pretty much the same atmosphere at Sterling Cooper, with their own, even more dangerous, form of darts.

In Season 7, Sally busts her nose and and Betty still freaks out how she could potentially ruin her whole life by risking her looks.  Yet, there is part of Betty that thinks she may have an idea that sitting around being pretty isn't all there is to life and she in later seasons wants to be heard, not just seen.

When Midge sees Don at her doorway at 11:00 am, she asks if he'd been fired.  That's probably too random to be foreshadowing, but what the heck.   

They hammer home that Betty knows nothing about the man she married and had two kids with and he uses a line he uses again in Ep. 4.1 - how he was taught not to go on about himself.  We realize now that's a lie, that Don was intentionally mysterious lest anyone discover the truth about him. 

Peggy complains to Joan about all the unwanted looks and advances she gets from the men at the office and Joan is not exactly sympathetic. In Ep. 7.8 Joan complains to Peggy about the sexist treatment by the men at their workplace and this time it's Peggy who lacks sympathy, blaming how Joan dresses for her problems. 

There are two mentions of divorce in this episode - Betty mentioning that the food and drink from the dinner with the Sterlings (currently fighting in her stomach) should get a divorce and the mention of a divorcee moving into a house down the street. Foreshadowing to their divorce?

Don that about the sin of pride.  We later learn he was raised by a very stern, religious woman who had strong opinions about sin.