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Sally steals five dollars from Gene, but after hearing Gene throw veiled accusations Carla's way for the theft, she conspires to return it. When she does, it seems like Gene suspected it was she all along, although he doesn't confront her. That's property destruction and now theft in a three-episode span, though. Can Juvie be far off?
At Patio casting, we learn Smith is still on staff and Harry is a sidelined horndog, only one of those things being a surprise. Ken and Pete then tell Creative that they have to work all weekend while they and Harry head out to Roger and Jane's Kentucky Derby garden party on Long Island. Don and Betty also attend, and it's all mint juleps and pleasantries and Roger in blackface, but Don, not feeling particularly festive or racist, seeks out a quiet corner of the place and bonds with an old coot over their lack of affinity for fancy-shmancy affairs and the people who attend them. Betty, for her part, gets some overly familiar attention from a man who works in the Governor's office, and then Pete and Trudy awesomely tear up the dance floor, doing, I believe, the Charleston. Before they leave, Betty and Don encounter a very drunken Jane, who makes reference to their period of separation, causing Betty to stare daggers at Don. In the aftermath, Roger basically insists on Don telling him off, so Don obliges, saying that everyone sees Roger as not happy but foolish for the whole Jane thing. Roger looks extremely wounded, and I don't think he and Don will be going out for drinks any time soon. Then again, old habits die hard.
Creative, left on their own for the weekend, bitches about Harry and their collective lot in life while drinking like writers should. Paul and Smith then get the idea to throw some drugs into the mix, and the dealer is an old friend of Paul's from Princeton, "Jeffrey Graves," a guy who looks to me a bit like a young Tom Cruise stole Peter Gallagher's eyebrows. Peggy, continuing her campaign to change how people perceive her, gets high with the boys, and then Jeffrey reveals to the others that Paul, despite his airs, is a Jersey boy and also can't sing, which leads to a Princeton duet and Peggy getting the line of the episode. She also saves their bacon while coming up with ideas even while stoned, and tells her new secretary that basically, she (Peggy) is going to be feminism personified. In a nice way, of course.
Finally, Joan and Greg are having a party of their own, a dinner affair for people from the hospital, at which she's chagrined to hear a warning that, doctor or no, Greg's finances are going to be tough for the foreseeable future, and this revelation is compounded by the news that Greg recently screwed up an operation, so his chances of becoming Chief Resident seem basically nil. Joan's mood about all this is not helped when she's basically forced to sing to entertain the partygoers, and the look on her face suggests that Greg is going to be very unpopular in his own home. Which will catch it up with the rest of the world, I'd say.
Want more? The full recap starts right below! Yay for the fourth-season pickup! Looks like AMC wised up.It's time to make that awful Patio concept a reality, and a redhead wearing what looks like a wedding cake with liberal amounts of pink frosting is detailing her acting experience for the Casting room, which includes Sal, Smith (since they were hired as a team, I'm taking this as an indication that Kurt survived the firings as well, which pleases me), Paul, Peggy, and Harry. The girl's trouble in coming up with the name "Molière" while going down her résumé is, I believe, the show's shorthand for "bimbo," but that doesn't stop Harry (why would it) from goofily grinning at her and asking her to do some Ann-Margret-esque move he refers to as "that twist" for them one more time. She obliges, and as soon as Peggy chokes back a bit of peptic acid, she dismisses the girl before informing Harry that he's not part of their process and should confine himself to being a spectator. "Don't forget it." I kind of hope he does forget it, Peggy, just so I can hear you tell him how it is again. Ken and Pete then enter, seeming more comfortable now with their shared-king status, and Ken informs the room that Bacardi is coming in on Tuesday to see if "'Daiquiri Beach' has legs," and this schedule means that Creative will have to churn out ideas over the weekend. Everyone protests, including Peggy, who says she has plans. Hilariously, everyone looks at her with the equivalent of a raised eyebrow, so she adds, "I really do!" Heh. Harry makes a possibly earned but still snotty comment Peggy's way about how he won't be working, given his spectator status, and then Ken tells the group that he and Pete won't be around either, as they'll be attending Jane and Roger's Kentucky Derby garden party out on Long Island. Harry: "Are any of you wearing seersucker? I don't want to look like a barbershop quartet." Well, that's an image I'm not going to get out of my head anytime soon. The only question is who will be their fourth, and I hope he'll forgive me but I nominate Bertram. It's not like he has much else to do these days. Harry does mention he wishes he weren't going, presumably foreshadowing his later social awkwardness but also giving Paul the opportunity to suggest, "Give me your glasses. I'll go as you." Heh. Nice one, Harry. When Accounts and Television are gone, Paul sighs that they all started at the same time. Sal: "I've been here six years longer than you." That sounds bad, but I'd at least guess that the pre-Paul years seemed shorter. Peggy notes, "They hate Creative," and gets no argument from anyone in or out of the room.
In the main area, Joan's heading out, presumably to lunch, with a couple of girls when she sees Jane approaching. After inwardly smiling about the fact that she just got a manicure, she catches Jane's eye, who gives her a smile as wide as it is fake before saying, referring to Joan's plans to leave SC, that she didn't expect to see her. Joan, twice as fakely, says she'll be there for just a little while longer, and then one of her minions tosses out that it's good to see Jane..."I mean, Mrs. Sterling." That one hangs in the air for a good long moment before Joan dismisses her underlings, and Jane tells her she's just stopping by after having her rings resized. "I keep losing weight." Other than the affirmation of her newfound status, that's surely meant as a dig at Joan's full figure, but bragging about how she doesn't eat is going to come back to haunt her before the episode's end. Putting her bitch drive up into third, she asks where Joan is living, and Joan tells her they're in the same place, but are looking at getting a house with a yard up in Riverdale. Jane hits the open road by saying she gets a nosebleed anywhere above 86th Street before giving Joan some instructions having to do with her chauffeur, and when she's gone, Joan takes a long moment to swallow what she just had to endure from her replacement. Not that I necessarily think that Joan really wanted to be married to Roger, in the end, but I think they both told themselves and each other that they knew that wasn't a possibility, so it has to hurt Joan, at least a little, to have seen him dump his wife for another, even younger, office girl, not to mention that it takes away from Joan's apparent victory at being the one to find true love. Add in the fact that this episode is all about social status, and you see how truly significant this little exchange is. Of course, if Joan were really married to a wonderful guy, she'd forget about all this by the time she reaches the elevator, but...well, I don't want to get too ahead of myself. (But in case you want a preview: Greg, on top of everything else, is a loser.)
Peggy tells her new secretary, a buttoned-up matron-aged woman named "Olive," that there's no further need to include Harry in Casting notices. Heh. After acknowledging that, Olive shows her willingness to serve by holding out two cups and offering Peggy her choice of tea or coffee, saying she'll drink whichever one Peggy doesn't want. Peggy chooses coffee, pointing out that it's what she normally drinks, but Olive clarifies that she's offering the choice because Lola said a second cup makes Peggy edgy. Peggy: "I want you to forget everything Lola told you." She's already on fire this episode, which makes her later pot-fueled lines no surprise. But I was thinking, given that Lola would have interfered with the image of Peggy's ascendancy this episode is pushing on us hard, that maybe it was a little convenient that the anti-Peggy Lola disappeared, but then I realized that she's probably working for the also-thankfully-absent Hooker, who as you'll remember was offered his choice of girls to do his typing. Not that I miss her, but I love that the show has an actual reason for giving me what I wanted.
When Don arrives home, Betty tells him she went out for an hour to pick up some nylons, presumably for the garden party, and came back to find, as she shows Don, an entire pot full of peeled potatoes. "Carla said [Gene] thought he was on KP duty." I bet Carla would be a lot happier with him if he'd cleaned the latrines for her instead. Don takes this as a reason to suggest not attending, his ulterior motive being that he is not thrilled about hanging with Roger and Jane, but Betty says she wants to go, and she even bought a dress for the occasion. By the way, Don's pouring himself a drink here, and while it's a nice touch that he's not keeping the liquor on a high shelf, after last week I would have thought he'd go one step further and put the stuff under lock and key. Betty continues to subtly display her newfound ability to assert herself in the partnership as she takes the drink Don just poured for himself, and there's another reason Don's going to seek out an unpopulated bar later on.
Sally's reading to Gene from The Decline And Fall Of The Roman Empire, and that may not be the most subtle way to foreshadow all the coming upheaval this season, but she is just a kid. But while I'm at it, I think I see better what this season is about now; it's not merely looking at people's attitude toward change but at their ability to say goodbye and to move on from great loss, the most cataclysmic example coming (I don't think I'm spoiling anything here, since they pointed to it so dramatically last episode) with the JFK assassination at, I'm guessing, the end of the season. Anyway, Sally is at least reading, if not learning, an awful lot of SAT words, but Don interrupts the vocabulary session (and description of Antioch being a hedonistic and shallow society) to inform Sally that it's time for bed. Gene, after implying that Don's vain and focused on pleasure by asking him how Babylon is, dismisses her with an admonition to "wash [her] tee
th," and I'm not sure whether that's a regionalism, a dated expression, or another example of the fact that Gene ain't quite right anymore. If he'd only added a reminder for her to brush her face, I'd know it was the last. Regardless, Sally hands him the book; referring to what's coming in the story, presumably, he tells her "all hell's gonna break loose." Well, it is a historical text. That's a pretty good bet.
The day, at SC, Smith and Paul are playing some makeshift golf in, I think, Paul's office, while Peggy rests her head on a desk like she can't believe who she's stuck with here. And while it's true it would be a better party with some gays, closeted or not, in fairness things are going to pick up pretty soon. (I'm assuming Sal and, hopefully, Kurt, aren't around because they're not at the artwork stage yet.) Smith asks what Paul's secret to doing so well in the game is, and Paul grandly announces, "I use Harry Crane's paddle. And I pretend that's his fat head." Heh. The three of them sip some Bacardi, for inspiration on more than one level, but the best they can come up with is "Bacardi-licious" and "Bacardi-lightful," and no offense, but I don't think their clients are paying for plays on words quite that lame. On the other hand, if I'm wrong, maybe I can explore a new career path. Paul wistfully speculates that the partygoers are drinking mint juleps, but Smith dismissively says booze just puts him to sleep, and he'll "take grass any hour of the day." That gives him an idea, and Paul is with him, pompously saying when he wrote his senior thesis at Princeton, "Mary Jane was [his] muse." Peggy interjects another gem: "Paul helps me sleep." Funny, but true, and I wish you hadn't reminded me, because now I need more coffee. Holding up some fruit, his face suddenly looking inspired, Paul asks Peggy to get a blender so they can turn their drinks into frappés. It's true he's got an angle here, as he's trying to get in the beach spirit of the campaign, but Peggy still doesn't want to be ordered around: "You get it." He replies that he's eating, though, and rather than argue further, she gives in and leaves the room. I'd be disappointed in her backing down, but she does get to leave his presence for a while, so there's that.
In the break room, Peggy is surprised to find Olive, who says that if Peggy's working, she's working. Wow. Just on the basis of that statement alone, she's shown herself to be more valuable than Roger. Peggy tells her it's really all right, but as she gives the plants some water Olive says she already canceled her plans, so Peggy grabs the blender...
...as Paul's asking Smith if he doesn't seem as important as Ken. Wisely not waiting for an answer, he goes on that he at least gets it with Pete being promoted, but Smith is not interested in hearing Paul's suspect worldview, instead asking him if he wants to get high. Okay, true, Paul's ruminations will probably double in frequency and length under the influence of "grass," but I think it's fair to guess that Smith will be much better able to deal with them if he's altered himself. Smith tells Paul that his contact got married, and asks, "Who's your friend?" Michael Gladis does some nice business there as he hesitates, no doubt thinking of the mixed feelings he has toward the guy, but snaps out of it and digs into his wallet for the number. Happy fun times, here we come, and I'm talking just as much about the viewing audience.
Betty calls for Sally to help her with her dress, and when Sally zips her up and tells her she looks pretty, Betty replies, "I look like an open umbrella." But a small one. I mean, not golf-sized. Sally goes on that Gene told her Betty and Don are going to a soirée, and Betty orders her not to bother him while they're away. Good advice, considering she could get conscripted into chopping up a thousand onions if she isn't careful. When Sally's gone, Betty obsesses some more about how her pregnancy is affecting her looks...
...so she's not around to see Sally go into Gene's room. He calls to her from the bathroom that he's indisposed, and she wastes no time in grabbing the money clip lying on his desk and pocketing a fiver. In fairness, she doesn't get an allowance.
As Greg vacuums, Joan sets the table, as they're having a little get-together of their own. When he's finished, he yanks the plug out from the wall, prompting Joan to chide him that he could break it. Well, his rough manner can hardly be a surprise. And honestly, it's difficult to watch their interactions, for all the obvious reasons but also because the show hasn't given us any indication of how Joan now feels about what happened the last episode they were on screen together. I'm not necessarily complaining about the storyline; I just hope to know more about how the incident has affected Joan, if at all. Greg then takes issue with the way Joan has set the table, saying the Chief of Surgery (Dr. Ettinger) has to sit at the head, but Joan informs him that it's his home, so he needs to take that position, as Emily Post and everyone with good manners knows. Greg, however, says he and "Rick Stolich" will be expected to be Ettinger's "footstools." Joan, however, does not want to give the impression she doesn't know how to set a table, prompting Greg's voice to rise as he says he doesn't want to have a fight right now. Joan: "Then stop talking!" There's our girl. He gets himself under control, and in response she offers a compromise: A buffet, which will be a bit more casual and won't be governed by seating etiquette. Greg agrees, and heads off to take a bath, but she calls him back for a kiss. Ick.
Don's listening to a radio broadcast concerning an investigation into the State Liquor Authority, which I believe would interest him on general principles, when Betty enters, calling for Carla. Don compliments her appearance; pleased, she responds that while she looks good for her condition, "I'm still in my condition." Translation: This baby better not come late or I am never going to let her hear the end of it. Gene then enters angrily, Carla in tow, and reports his missing five bucks, but of course Betty thinks he's just being forgetful. She gets Don to offer him a replacement fiver, but Gene refuses, and seethes that "you people" think money's the answer to every problem. Don replies, "No, just this particular problem," and if January Jones didn't break character in at least one take off that line, she is an even better actress than I thought. Betty apologizes but says she doesn't know what Gene wants, and when he snits that what he wants is his five dollars, Jon Hamm brings the hilarity again with a look at the bill in his hand followed by a frustrated eye-roll. Hee. The parents leave, and then Carla takes the kids out to play in the yard, but not before Sally looks back and gives her grandfather an "I did it! Ask me how!" glance. You can't blame him for being slow on the uptake, kiddo, but he'll figure you out eventually.
Paul opens his office door, and the douchebag I described in the recaplet as a young Tom Cruise with Peter Gallagher's eyebrows enters. (Judge for yourself on the looks, but the voice and mannerisms are freakishly Cruise-like.) Anyway, the guy is a classmate of Paul's from Princeton (looking and acting the part rather well) who also happens to be versed in the fine art of selling drugs. When "Jeffrey Graves" tells Smith that he's looking at the "two great coxmen of Princeton '55," Smith hilariously replies, "Oh, the times you must have had!" Being part of a team with Kurt, I can't imagine he wasn't throwing some innuendo out there, but veiled accusations of High Ivy homosexuality quickly give way to the business at hand: Buying weed. As he talks price and gets out a jay (already rolled for maximum customer satisfaction) he mildly notes that Paul never calls him these days, which is either a sensitive, halting attempt to identify and repair whatever's broken in their relationship, or an inquiry as to whether Paul's been using another dealer. Smith then thoughtfully uses Paul's sweater to block the smoke from sifting out under the door, and since they were just on the subject he's the one that should have been the coxswain -- Michael Gladis slouching is still significantly taller than Patrick Cavanaugh. Smith eagerly asks for a toke, but Jeffrey tells him to relax, and then turns to regard the view: "You ever look out this window?" He's not facing Paul, but if he were, he might read his facial expression as, "This is why I never call you, dickhead."
As a peppy brass version of "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" plays, after a long pan past a table set up with enough silver mint julep cups to bourbonize the entire actual Kentucky Derby, we see Betty and Don have arrived. Once under the enormous tent, they have a look around, and it's not long before Pete, Trudy, Ken, Harry, and Jennifer have made their way over for a greeting. Pete and Trudy, unsurprisingly given their upbringing, are the most comfortable of the lot in the highbrow situation, but Harry looks like he'd rather be anywhere but there, while Ken is wishing he'd tried harder to get a date. Jennifer, who at least seems at better ease than her husband, eagerly asks when Betty is due, and Betty favors her with an answering smile: "Any minute. Can't you tell?" Heh. Trudy then suggests they tour the place, and takes Betty by the arm and leads her away, significantly not pulling Jennifer along for the ride. As Don lights a smoke, Pete points out a couple of high-powered guests they might want to target for business, but Don merely pats his arm as he walks away: "Don't hand out your card." Probably good advice, but I'd keep an eye on Ken to make sure he's playing fair as well.
Carla is tearing up the house looking for the missing money, and when Gene opines she's being ridiculous, she somewhat hotly tells him she's not the thief. He tells "Viola" to stop it, and after she tartly correct him, he asks, "You know Viola?" Carla says she doesn't, but she'd be happy to call her and get her up to Ossining so they can take turns kicking his ass. Some of that wasn't explicitly stated, but the meaning was plain. Sally then emerges from another room, and Gene accusingly asks her if she's already done looking. Sally gives an "Oh, shit" nod...and then heads back into the room. Heh.
Peggy wakes up from a nap on her couch. Cut to outside her office, where she picks up the sandwich Olive got for her as she asks her if the boys are still there, which I guess means she never actually got that blender to them. Good for her, although the frappés did sound delicious. Olive then disapproving says she knows what they're doing in there, and since they obviously don't want to work, she should just go home. But Peggy, intrigued as you or I would be, heads off to see what all the fuss is about, and it's so perfectly Peggy that she's never even tried weed and yet she's going in with ammunition against the munchies she's sure to have quite soon.
Inside the office, stoner-speak is happening when there's a knock at the door, and Jeffrey grumbles, "Is it that old lady again?" Heh. Her "I know what they're doing in there" is close enough to "I know. What's going. On." that I wonder if she then went full-on Frances McDormand and was like, "Don't do drugs!" Anyway, it's of course Peggy, and the boys let her in; after Jeffrey smarmily introduces himself, some babbling from Paul gives way to Jeffrey asking Peggy her name. Peggy looks around proudly: "I'm Peggy Olson, and I want to smoke some marijuana." Seconded! Paul gruffs that she won't like it, but she points out that he has no idea what she'll like; her opinion is only asked in matters of "brassieres and body odor and makeup." God, even she's taller than poor Smitty. Jeffrey smooves that he'd like to know her opinion about a lot of things, and height issues or no, Smitty's response of "Jesus, give it a rest" makes me realize he's stealthily becoming one of my favorite characters. Anyway, Paul, being marginally in charge of the weed, finally nods his assent, and Smitty, who needed no convincing to begin with, lights a joint for Peggy while asking Paul if he can believe it. Paul, warming to the situation, smiles as Peggy tokes away...
...and we cut to Roger singing "My Old Kentucky Home" in blackface. And although it's not like blackface was gone in this time, I think this might be meant to underscore the idea that Roger does not have the best judgment. I know this comes as a shock. However, most people seem to be enjoying the show, although Pete looks mildly disapproving of the racist humor, while Don can't stomach it from both the narrower angle of seeing Roger make an ass out of himself yet again, and from the broader one that's about to be explored with an old geezer in an empty bar. He asks Betty if they can go, but she, having been raised to believe she was a princess and taught that "conversation is an art," is far more in her element than he, and wants to stay. He starts to head away, but she calls to him not to disappear, as she wants to dance. Roger is still singing, though, so Don vacates the area...
...and heads inside the clubhouse, apparently, in which he finds a bar with a solitary older man behind it. Mistaking him for a bartender (his white jacket adding to the confusion), Don asks for an Old Fashioned, but the guy isn't working -- he just came to raid the place and get away from people, but he can't find any bourbon. Well, with the ten thousand mint juleps already drunk, a third of them by Roger, it's no surprise. Taking matters into his own hands, Don hops over the bar, finds some rye, and makes two Old Fashioneds himself as the old coot introduces himself as "Connie" and asks who Don's escaping from. Don sighs that he's "at work disguised as a party," and Connie tells him he's in the same boat with a wedding. Connie goes on to reminisce about his childhood, and since his speech isn't all that rife with significant moments I'm going to just tell you that the guy started from modest upbringings, and then skip ahead to the part where he asks Don if he's seen "A Midsummer Dream, with Mickey Rooney." Don corrects him on the title, to which Connie responds, "God, you're prickly!" Your point, Old-eron? Oh, it's that he feels out of place at these things even though he's rich, and Don in turn relays a story of how he used to park cars for rich people at a roadhouse, and he wasn't allowed to use the bathroom they used, so when he needed to piss, he'd do it in one of their trunks. Better than in the gas tank, I suppose. Connie chuckles, and then asks Don where he comes from; Don answers Pennsylvania by way of Illinois, as they lost their farm
and ended in coal country. And then just like that, the meeting is over, and Connie heads back to his affair while Don just leans back against the bar and sighs.
At S(toner) C(entral), Paul's munching on chips while Peggy notes that she's hungry, but it's not worth moving. Oh, yeah. Smitty comes up with "Bacar D. Eisenhower," which gets some giggles, and then Paul ribs Jeffrey for being a "drug pusher." Jeffrey responds by calling Paul out for his hoity-toity and very fake accent, saying Paul used to be a total Jersey boy. "I guess that's why they have scholarships." Paul, not enamored of being called out by this trust-fund trash, stands and tells Jeffrey to get out as Peggy hits another stoner mark perfectly by looking hilariously over-interested in the impending drama. Jeffrey stands and ups the stakes: Not only is Paul arrogant, but he can't sing. Hilariously, Paul literally tells him to take it back, but Jeffrey rubs it in that Paul got kicked out of the Tigertones (one of Princeton's many, many, many singing groups), and it's probably best I didn't get stoned for this scene as I think I would have giggled myself to death by now. Paul opens the door for Jeffrey, but before he can get to the "I. Said. Good. DAY!" that's undoubtedly coming, he huffily informs Jeffrey that he left the Tigertones because he had mono. Jeffrey challenges him to sing a little for the crowd, which Paul clearly wasn't expecting, but he rises to the challenge, very passably singing the first verse of "Hello My Baby." Peggy and Smitty applaud while Jeffrey sulks, but Paul turns the scene by holding out a hand Jeffrey's way and starting the second verse, and after hesitating for a moment, he joins Paul in a duet, with the two of them putting a reconciliatory arm around each other. A glassy- and wide-eyed Peggy: "I am so high." Olive's not laughing, but she's the only one.
Betty's standing by the bathroom when some gray-around-the-temples guy tells her he wishes she were waiting for him. Something tells me we just met Jeffrey Graves's father. In the past, of course, Betty would have firmly discouraged such an advance as inappropriate and rude, but it seems her dip into adultery combined with her insecurity over her pregnancy look has altered her attitude as she merely smiles. After turning the conversation to her pregnancy, he asks, blaming in advance the martinis he's had, if he can touch her stomach, and after a moment of consideration, she nods assent. He holds his touch rather longer than seems necessary, not pulling away until she notes that the baby isn't moving around at the moment. I'm going to chalk that up to the baby's good taste rather than worry that that's foreshadowing, so let's move on to where Betty asks who the guy is with, and he confesses he brought a date, as "you can't show up to these things stag. But then you run into people." Don't know if Ken would agree with either statement. Betty clearly catches his meaning, as amazingly subtle as it is, but makes no further encouragement, and then Trudy emerges from the washroom and awesomely doesn't even notice the guy as she spirits Betty away, saying she's in the mood to dance. She's not kidding, as we'll find out.
Joan serves a tray of martinis (bad sign, after the last scene) to her guests, who are doing the buffet thing, seated casually in low chairs or on the floor. Mrs. Stolich, who's about Joan's age and looks like she's carrying, offers to cut the cheese, which gets a round of giggles from the men; after the ladies roll their eyes at their immature mates, Mrs. Stolich says they have all kinds of private jokes, such as the "Code Pink," which is the signal that there's an attractive unconscious female on the floor. A joke about Greg here seems too easy, so let's move on to where Ettinger confesses he never heard that one, and Greg ass-kisses his wife and boss both by saying he hasn't either. Joan sighs that it sounds like where she works, and then the ladies repair to the kitchen to check on the roast. Well, to be more precise, Joan checks the roast while the two others discuss how little residents make, and Mrs. Ettinger tells them that when she first married her husband, she was teaching kindergarten and earning three times what he did. "We lived in a pit." Joan, perhaps taking a colder view of her and Greg's joint finances than before, looks wary, and gets more so when Mrs. Ettinger cautions her not to get pregnant during this time of financial hardship. Mrs. Stolich winces, given her situation, and Mrs. Ettinger confesses that she gave her the same advice, but "she doesn't listen. She's a nurse." Their relationship seems a little familiar, even for people who have known each other for a while, but let's ignore that to focus on the part where Mrs. Stolich counsels Joan to do what she wants, offering that if Greg gets made Chief Resident things will be easier, and Mrs. Ettinger sighs that knowing Greg could land a woman like Joan makes her feel good about his future. Translation: Your husband's on a one-way trip to Nowheresville, honey. Get out while you still can.
Carla calls Bobby and Sally for dinner, and then puts a plate in front of Gene and tells him he needs to eat something. He balefully bites that she can't tell him what to do, prompting this response: "You either eat, or you don't eat. But there'll be no more of that." Ladies and gentlemen, Carla has Had Enough. Gene brings up the money again, and nearby, Sally is sitting under the dining room table trying to figure a way out of this mess. I was sure, after last week's little issue with the melba toast, Carla was going to end up getting canned, by the way, but I'm happy they didn't go that route. Anyway, Sally comes to a decision and takes the purloined bill out of her sock, then gets up and peers in on the people in the kitchen. Satisfied they haven't noticed her, she tosses the bill onto the kitchen floor, waits a few seconds, and then pops out all, "Grandpa! Is this your money?" Heh. Kids. Gene orders her to bring the bill to him, which she does while acting like she's on a death march, just in case they had bought her transparent scheme up until now, and after Gene stares at her for a million years while acknowledging it's the one, the poor girl literally looks like she might implode from stress, so I'm happy when Carla, who clearly knows exactly what happened, chooses to let her off the hook by making a loud show about what a relief it is that the money reappeared. Gene, however, keeps looking at her like a hungry troll, which is just another reason he really needs to eat his dinner.
It's now night under the tent, and Don brings some wine over for Betty and Trudy. After the latter thanks him, she sees Pete smile at her, and affably tells Betty he's pretending they didn't have a fight on the way over. Betty: "He seems amenable right now." Heh. Turns out Trudy warned him that with "this set," there was a good chance one of her exes might appear, and he's now in a better mood because that didn't happen. At another table, Harry complains to Jennifer that he's got nothing to talk about besides work, but she pooh-poohs his discomfort and leads him over to the other four, where...they're met with silence. Heh. It's only momentary, though, as after Harry uncomfortably swears they're having a great time, Jennifer brightly notes she hasn't seen Don and Betty on the dance floor. Betty jokes that she doesn't move that well at the moment, and then lets us know she's changed her mind from before -- she doesn't feel like dancing, which she thinks is disappointing Don. He doesn't respond that the only disappointing thing to him is that they're not home already, settling instead for rubbing her arm, and then Roger appears: "Your asses are going to wear out those chairs." With Roger and Jane are Bertram, some woman, and the guy who had his hands all over Betty's stomach. Bertram, who I think could have been given the episode off at his age, introduces the ha
ndsy guy as "Henry Francis," from the Governor's office; when he shakes hands with Betty, they exchange A Look of significance. Roger gossips that "Hank" just came from Governor Rockefeller's marriage to "Happy" (his second wife, Margaretta Murphy). Betty's scandalized, as Happy only officially got divorced a month earlier and has four children, and Bertram points out that that's the first thing people say, which is why the move is political suicide for Rockefeller. Jane, who I see on second viewing is already teetering a bit, asks why, then, he married her, and Hank tells her they're in love, to which she's like, "Aww!" Before everyone gets to be all "look at the drunk hostess," though, some peppy music starts up, and Pete and Trudy get out on the dance floor and proceed to kick the party's ass by doing a full-on, full-length Charleston, and all I can say is you go, Alison Brie and Vincent Kartheiser. I've never used this expression unironically, but that was good clean fun. Plus, Kartheiser looks as flexible as Gumby up there. To her dismay, Harry pulls Jennifer off the floor to give them more room, and then, watching them go, Ken, who for all we've seen of him has probably been trying his hand at being a proto-Wedding Crasher, says he has got to bring a date time, while Jennifer, seemingly bummed at being reminded of her and her husband's misfit status, stomps off. Shut up, Jennifer. Pete and Trudy finish up and get the applause they deserve...
...and we cut to Paul intoning (from The Hollow Men), "This is the way the world ends." Heh. He's lying on the floor boring Smitty and Peggy with his stuffiness, and after the latter two laugh about the Tigertones again, Smitty offers that he went to UMich. Peggy: "I went to Miss Deever's [sp?] secretarial school." God, she did, didn't she? That seems like a million years ago. Paul then manages to link rum to the fact that they all almost died, which leads to Peggy suggesting the Daiquiri Beach campaign be something about life. Smitty suggests they go up on the roof, causing Peggy to get more ideas, and when Smitty's brain finally catches up and asks if she's working, she dreamily says she is. Getting to her feet, she tells them they're free to go. "I'm in a very good place right now." She exits, and Smitty looks bummed he didn't get any action. I'm coming around to your side, kid, but to get Peggy it's going to take a lot more than that.
Olive is still there (I love that you're not Lola, honey, but go home already) when Peggy returns, and Olive's still all disapproving about the whole pot thing, but there's a new element -- she's worried that Peggy isn't thinking about her future. What she doesn't know, though, is that Peggy has always thought about her future, and now's no exception, as, with a beatific smile, she points out that she has a job and her own office and secretary. "And I am not scared of any of this." I take that to mean that she feels like she's becoming socially equal to the men, and is embracing that development, but just in case it sounds like she's cutting Olive down, her face turns stoner-sympathetic as she realizes Olive is scared -- for her. "Don't worry about me. I am going to get to do everything you want for me. I am going to be fine, Olive. I really am." Mollified by Peggy's intense sincerity, Olive seems to relax, and then brings it back to a normal interaction by telling Peggy her expense reports are ready for her review. Peggy heads into her office, but after dropping something inside, reemerges with a Dictaphone, or at least the pieces of one, in her hands, saying that after Olive sets it up and gets her a glass of water, she can go. Well, she also has to stand uncomfortably while Peggy gets momentarily hypnotized by a piece of jewelry she's wearing, but you're probably not surprised to hear that.
Back above 86th Street, Joan is asking Mrs. Stolich when she's due, and she tells her early December. After some talk about clothes, Joan tells her the name of a friend of hers at Lord and Taylor who could help her out, prompting Mrs. Ettinger to marvel that Joan really knows everything. Well, not everything about her husband, but we'll get to that quite soon. Yes, after Ettinger compliments Stolich's surgical prowess (and it sounds like Stolich is planning to head to Texas the year), it comes up that Greg recently got a "bad result" on a pneumonectomy, something he didn't share with Joan because he "doesn't like to worry Joanie about those kinds of things." The look on Joan's face says the damage, and a great deal of it, is done, even as Mrs. Ettinger suggests they steer the conversation away from shop talk. Sensing that his guests' affinity for his wife is the best weapon at his disposal, Greg suggests Joan play for them, and even though she clearly doesn't want to, soon she's up there fingering the accordion (I understand that's actually Christina Hendricks playing, which is awesome) and singing the Dario Moreno "C'est Magnifique." She puts on a good show, but when she looks Greg's way, her eyes look like that of a trapped animal (or a caged bird, if you will). On the other hand, the fact that divorce was mentioned so prominently in this episode gives me hope.
Back at the other party, Betty's at the buffet, telling Don she just needs to have a little more food and then they can go. Given her long-standing disinclination to eat, even while pregnant, I'm wondering if this is another subtle example of her asserting control over him. Jane then staggers up, plate in hand, and after she slurs something about the family always being the last to eat, she drops her food, and soon Betty and Don are hauling her to her feet and into a chair. They take it all in good enough humor until Jane tells Betty she knew she and Don would get back together. Betty looks disbelievingly at Don, who assures her he'll take care of Jane. She stalks off (although on second viewing, after the initial shock, she doesn't seem quite as angry as I thought; I'm guessing she remembered that Jane was Don's secretary at the time) leaving a confused Jane to pleadingly opine that Don doesn't like her and say she's really a nice person. I don't know that the show's history really bears that out, but it's not like Don's really being unkind to her here either. Nevertheless, Roger's voice suddenly cuts in and asks what's going on, and Jane, suddenly seeming to grasp what happened, worriedly says she should have eaten something. Don, not really having much more he can do, walks away, but Roger, after loudly asking for a glass of milk to be brought to his wife, asks Don if they can talk, so Don unwillingly pauses. Roger asks what that was, and Don tries to tell him Jane's drunk and leave it at that, but Roger wonders what he did to "get under [Don's] skin." Don tries once again to escape, his stance loudly proclaiming that Roger's deluding himself if he thinks he actually wants to hear what Don has to say, but Roger asks for it once more, saying his mother was right -- she said you shouldn't be conspicuously happy, because some people don't like it. Don finally obliges Roger with his usual economy of words: "No one thinks you're happy. They think you're foolish." Roger nods, but he's hurt more than you might think, and he leaves with a comment about being able to choose your guests that suggests this is the last garden party to which Don will be invited for a while. And while that may not seem like the way to hit Don where it hurts, Don looks regretful as he stands there in the wake of the confrontation. Perhaps it's because this question popped into his mind: Despite all his faults, without Roger, what kind of fun would SC be for Don?
Dressed for bed, Sally tentatively wishes Gene good night, but he barks at her to get in there. She does her death march again (the actress is killing me this episode) but he merely has her sit and read to him again, this time about a prince whose "rustic manner" made him a misfit with the "delicacy" of his subjects. I wonder if he pissed in the back of their chariots.
Back at the party, Don, having retrieved Betty's coat and purse, observes Roger lovingly holding Jane up on the dance floor, they being the only two still out there. He then takes a long walk across the grounds to where Betty is standing, facing away from him. He puts his arms around her, and they exchange a long kiss that gets more and more passionate...until we cut to black.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think that the women of Mad Men have it pretty good on TV is the Answer.
Dressed for bed, Sally tentatively wishes Gene good night, but he barks at her to get in there. She does her death march again (the actress is killing me this episode) but he merely has her sit and read to him again, this time about a prince whose "rustic manner" made him a misfit with the "delicacy" of his subjects. I wonder if he pissed in the back of their chariots.
Back at the party, Don, having retrieved Betty's coat and purse, observes Roger lovingly holding Jane up on the dance floor, they being the only two still out there. He then takes a long walk across the grounds to where Betty is standing, facing away from him. He puts his arms around her, and they exchange a long kiss that gets more and more passionate...until we cut to black.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think that the women of Mad Men have it pretty good on TV is the Answer.
Dressed for bed, Sally tentatively wishes Gene good night, but he barks at her to get in there. She does her death march again (the actress is killing me this episode) but he merely has her sit and read to him again, this time about a prince whose "rustic manner" made him a misfit with the "delicacy" of his subjects. I wonder if he pissed in the back of their chariots.
Back at the party, Don, having retrieved Betty's coat and purse, observes Roger lovingly holding Jane up on the dance floor, they being the only two still out there. He then takes a long walk across the grounds to where Betty is standing, facing away from him. He puts his arms around her, and they exchange a long kiss that gets more and more passionate...until we cut to black.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think that the women of Mad Men have it pretty good on TV is the Answer.
Dressed for bed, Sally tentatively wishes Gene good night, but he barks at her to get in there. She does her death march again (the actress is killing me this episode) but he merely has her sit and read to him again, this time about a prince whose "rustic manner" made him a misfit with the "delicacy" of his subjects. I wonder if he pissed in the back of their chariots.
Back at the party, Don, having retrieved Betty's coat and purse, observes Roger lovingly holding Jane up on the dance floor, they being the only two still out there. He then takes a long walk across the grounds to where Betty is standing, facing away from him. He puts his arms around her, and they exchange a long kiss that gets more and more passionate...until we cut to black.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. You can reach him at couchbaron@gmail.com.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see why vloggers Val and Beth think that the women of Mad Men have it pretty good on TV is the Answer.