In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description! Finished? Click here to close.
Peggy gets the idea that Abe is going to end their relationship, and goes to Joan in a panic, but Joan suggests he might be planning to propose instead. Peggy's so thrilled at the prospect that it's heartbreaking when Abe merely asks to move in with her, but when Joan gives her blessing and calls her brave, Peggy's happy again, if a little terrified. However, when her mother learns of this news, she tells her in no uncertain terms that Abe is only using her, which may well be true, but the fact that she also tells her to get a cat instead of a man suggests her advice isn't to be trusted.
Another episode, another meeting with Heinz. The good news is that Megan pitches an idea to Don about the past, present, and future of beans, and it's actually really great; the bad news is that at what's supposed to be a casual dinner, Megan gets wind from Mrs. Raymond that Heinz is firing them. So Megan, with some whispered words to Don, gets him to pitch Raymond on her idea right there, which saves the account, and after that, the two of them are closer than ever. On top of that, Peggy isn't jealous in the least and congratulates Megan, but Megan still seems reserved in her reaction to the success, which you'll want to bookmark for later.
Don is being honored by the American Cancer Society, and Megan's parents come for the ceremony. Her anti-capitalist professor father is as casually disapproving of Don as her mother is rather obviously attracted to him and also is JULIA ORMOND. Megan at least is aware that her mother is being demonstrative toward Don in return for her husband's cavalier attitude toward her, and it's hard not to feel bad for Megan, given the horror show she comes from. All seems well, especially when Roger and Sally literally declare that they're on a date, but things go severely pear-shaped: Don finds out from Ken's father-in-law, RAY WISE as you'll remember, that clients far and wide no longer trust him because of the stunt he pulled with the tobacco letter; Megan's father tells her that she's given up on her dreams, and from Megan's mixed reaction to her own success, we can see he's right; and Sally walks in on Roger getting some tête from Megan's mom. Unsurprisingly, there's an unhappy tableau to end the episode, but that unhappiness doesn't extend to the audience, as this was one of the most amazingly-written episodes in quite some time.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Before I start, I just wanted to share with you a link from a reader whose mother-in-law was born in a concentration camp. As Abe told Peggy last week, it happened.
This week, we begin at the supposedly fun kind of camp, which looks like it's housed at a boarding school, and a couple kids are making a lame attempt at practicing... something where they're using lacrosse sticks to bat a volleyball at each other. I'm aware of a little bit about useless white-assed sports, but this is beyond my knowledge. The pay phone on the wall rings, and the far skinnier of the two boys answers and then tells "Face" that it's his father. Face reveals himself to be Glen, but before we can wonder if his dad is calling with some last-minute character motivations, we learn that the caller is actually Sally, and Glen, whose voice has finally changed and who has lost some of his baby fat, gives her props for pulling off the call on a weeknight. He asks if that means "Mrs. Francis" is out, but Sally tells him she and Henry went to Michigan, taking Gene with them, "and left me here with Bluto." I'm assuming that's referring to she of the Ginsu burglar alarm, and confirming that supposition, Glen asks if "she still smell[s] like a toilet." I didn't know toilet cleaners back then had such high proofs, but no one said this show isn't educational. Speaking of new information, Glen apparently recently broke up with his girlfriend and is using that as an excuse not to study his trig (what is this, space camp?), and Sally rightly gives him some shit for his broken heart before wondering if he's not going back to the same camp the summer. Yes, but by then, my dear, the inevitable romance between you and Glen will have bloomed, and believe me when I say I have no idea how I'm going to get through recapping that. Their conversation is soon interrupted by Pauline yelling for Sally to set the table, and from her slurring to her swaying and lurching like she's the ship in The Perfect Storm, she'll have to forgive me for suggesting the meal should have come a little earlier. Sally, as any good teenager should, completely ignores the call, so Pauline shays she'll jusht eat by hershelf; unfortunately, between her and the kitchen is the phone cord, which thanks to Sally taking the phone into her room is stretched across the hall like a tripwire. Down Pauline goes, pulling the phone right out of Sally's hands, and from her anguished cries, however much of the bag Pauline is in is not enough to dull the pain from her ankle, which may well be broken. You'd think after that story about her dad kicking her, she's be a little more tuned in to things in her path. Sally dispatches Bobby to get Pauline some water (another errand that should have been carried out a little earlier) while she goes to call for help...
...while Don is leading an elderly gentleman to his apartment, and it's not hard to guess that this is Megan's father, given that he's being played by Ronald Guttman, who's in the Hey! It's That Guy foreign-accent division. Professor (yeah, we'll get to that) Calvet wonders why Don didn't let the doorman take the luggage, and this is a pretty deft way immediately to let us in on the idea that he's hyper-critical of Don, because of all things, right? Don, refusing to be baited, notes from the boxes in his hands that Professor Calvet brought work with him, and he admits he's taking the opportunity of coming to New York to try to get something published again. Don tries to tell him that Megan is excited about that, but Professor Calvet informs him that Megan only pretends to find the same things interesting as he does, "because she loves me." Oh, um...is that how it's supposed to work? Don opens up to reveal Megan and her mother, who is, as I all-cappedly noted in the recaplet, is played by JULIA ORMOND, and it's not like the casting on this show hasn't always been great, but I feel like this season they're really hitting their stride with actors for whom gay men go completely batshit. (If you ever have the chance to meet him in person, ask Joe R to flow-chart Ms. Ormond's career trajectory with color commentary.) Mrs. Calvet (actually we already know her given name is "Marie"), sitting in a chair sipping a drink, is managing to make a Jackie-esque ensemble simultaneously stylish and sexy, while Megan asks why Don is carrying the bags, wondering if the doorman is drunk again. Heh. In French, Marie asks her husband why he didn't help Don, and he answers in the same tongue that she should mind her own business. "Have a drink. Become nice again." The camera makes a point of showing Don's eyes go wide at that one, so even on first viewing I suspected he was picking up the language, although I daresay he hadn't heard that exact combination of words up to this point. Megan asks them to speak English, and the first words in that language that come out of Professor Calvet's mouth proclaim the apartment "exquisitely decadent," and I know we're not supposed to like this guy but you'll forgive me for backing his play here. Hilariously, Marie intones that "Emile's" "eyes and his politics are having a fight," and then Megan goes to pour her dad a drink while Marie accepts a light from Don so sexily that it's hardly surprising when he pulls out a cigarette as well. Marie is also flattered that Don apparently remembered she likes cognac, but Emile is right there to verbally hose them off: "I see she's convinced you that she's particular. I'm the proof she is not." You do have to admire when someone's committed enough to an insult to include himself as collateral damage. That's some good spite, there. Undaunted, Marie invites Don to sit and tell them about his "adventures" that day, but Megan interrupts with the news that Sally is on for Don...
...while Roger has wasted no time in going out with an absolutely gorgeous woman... OH SHIT, that's Mona! Good Lord, Talia Balsam looks amazing. Anyway, they're in some upscale piano lounge with a view, and they've apparently gotten together because Mona's uncle Arnold died. "No one went to the funeral, but I knew you always liked him." Yes, I can somehow see Roger providing a contrarian viewpoint when it comes to in-laws. Roger good-naturedly asks if Margaret has "stopped dancing on Jane's grave," and Mona's answering chuckle rather obviates her response of, "She hardly hid her feelings." Roger notes that Mona didn't give in to such a tempting response, but Mona does playfully admit it's a little unsatisfying that Roger is in such a good mood. "I always thought she'd leave you." No offense, Mona, but I can't say I ever wanted to look closely enough to form an opinion either way. I understand, though, that you had little choice in the matter. Roger tells his ex-wife (and actual one in real life, in case I've never mentioned that one before) that he now thinks maybe Jane was just an excuse to blow up his life, and Mona, rather delighted even though she surely came to that revelation like two seconds after he broke the news he was leaving, asks if he's been seeing a shrink. In response, Roger loudly sings the praises of LSD in an all-too-believably evangelical way, and his babbling about euphoria and insight and how he now understands how other people think is enough to get Mona to wonder if maybe she should try it too. And there's some jest in her tone, but I still have to tell you I would LOVE to see that. Roger then gets down to his real mission here, handing Mona a piece of paper with the names of four members of the American Cancer Society, an organization that just so happens to be honoring Don for his breakup letter to Lucky Strike. Mona asks what she's supposed to do with the names in a tone that suggests she already knows the answer, but Roger still verbalizes it, asking if she remembers the way she used to go to luncheons and come back with stories of all the powerful men he could meet. Roger then goes back to the acid and tortures a metaphor, the gist of which is that his vision of the Black Sox represented his own regret that everything he has was handed to him, and Mona, probably having heard this revelation many times without it being induced by psychedelic drugs, sighs that Roger shouldn't feel guilty about his advantages. "I, for one, am not going to let some dirty teenagers in the paper disrupt the order of things." It'll be a while, but I still can't wait to see what Mona will make of Amy Carter. Roger, however, says he's just trying to meet with Firestone, and he knows it's a huge favor, but he lost everything when Lucky Strike went away. Mona fixes him with a thoughtful look, and after a good pause, replies, "I thought you married Jane because I had gotten old. And then I realized it was because you had." May be tough to hear, Roger, but if you want the favor you're going to have to give her that one. To his credit, he simply smiles that he hasn't had a heart attack since, and Mona generously replies that she doesn't see what the harm could be. "You are still supporting all of us." Nice, but I wonder -- is she still married to her second husband? Of course she'd be getting money from Roger either way, but the use of the word "supporting" without qualification sends my right eyebrow skyward. Unless she means he's supporting the husband as well, and given Roger's offhand remark about his net worth dropping by half, that's not that farfetched. Either way, I appreciate Mona's practical attitude and so does Roger, as he encourages her to find out whatever she can by that Friday, which is, I assume, when the honor will be bestowed. Mona favors him with a fond smile and a "You'd be surprised," and that's it, if she is single, I want these two back together, even if she has to hold him on a leash so short it's completely invisible.
Chez Draper, as the French people eat, Emile is making insulting comments about how much money Megan and Don obviously have, ignoring the reproaches of his wife. Don then arrives home with Sally and Bobby in tow, and Megan warmly greets the kids as her parents look on with winsome smiles. [Note: Clearly no one in the room has watched Desperate Housewives, otherwise they would be far less pleased to see that Bobby has grown up to be little M.J. Delfino, terrible child actor extraordinaire. -- Rachel.] Don breaks the news that Pauline broke her ankle, but proudly says it could have been a lot worse and prompts Sally to tell them what happened. Sally: "She tripped over one of Gene's toys." HA! This girl, I swear. No wonder she takes a shine to Roger. Don's like, no, not the part where you just lied through your teeth, and tells everyone that Sally called the police before getting her to take up the story again and explain that she elevated the ankle, put ice on it and kept Pauline calm until the police came. She doesn't mention whether she called Henry and Betty, but my view of human nature isn't so dim that I think they left Pauline in some Rye hospital all by herself. Although with the right combination of drugs, she probably wouldn't mind so much. In response to the likely stench that's in the air, Bobby tells Megan that Sally doesn't like fish, but Megan brightly replies that she made spaghetti as a reward. As she goes to get it, Marie recalls that she always made Megan spaghetti, as it was her favorite when she was a child. Don then starts to discuss the sleeping arrangements, but he's barely started before Marie suddenly appears pretty close to Pauline territory. At least she has the sense to excuse herself and look where she's going on the way to the bedroom. Bobby then asks Emile if he gives a lot of shots, and given what we just witnessed, I'll give Emile a point for refraining from making a crack at his wife's expense. Instead, he explains that he's a professor, and Don clarifies that when you have a high degree, you get to be called "Doctor." "It's from the Middle Ages." Emile: "That's right." Hee. Megan heads off to make sure Marie settled in okay, and the look on her face before she goes makes Don's eyebrows go north again. I can't imagine this is the first time he's met her parents -- the line about the cognac alone -- but I could see this being the first time he's gotten a good look at their true selves. And Don, you still want to learn their language?
In a very Graduate-like shot from the side of the bed, as Megan opens the door, we see Marie's limp hand in the foreground, a lit cigarette between two fingers. Megan, sadly looking like she expected this, removes the cigarette, folds Marie's hand safely over her, and turns off the light before exiting. And I doubt you need me to provide commentary on that, which is good because I'm not going to.
The day, at SCDP, Abe is hanging out and eating with Peggy, Stan and Ginzo, so I guess he no longer needs to pretend to be a delivery guy to gain access to the place. I bet he and Peggy still play that game on his birthday, though. Ginzo is asking Peggy about Raymond ("Mr. Heinz," he calls him), and Peggy sighs that he's boring, adding that he's got a daughter, with her slightly sardonic edge hilariously letting us know that she's probably all the guy talks about. Stan adds that she's likely the source of all his shitty ideas, and then talk turns to brassiere-sales philosophy. Although Ginzo tries to pull Abe in on his side, Abe says he has to take off; whether he's uncomfortable with a conversation topic that gets so close to his girlfriend's rack is unclear, but he says he's on deadline and needs to head home, which isn't completely unimportant if you think about it. When he's gone, Stan singsongs, "He's too good-looking for you." But Peggy just smiles, because even if it were true, which it's not, who cares?
In bed, Megan lightly teases Don for reading a James Bond book, and then Don starts to lay out all the free babysitting Megan's parents are going to have to do now that the kids are staying with them. When Don gets to the cancer dinner, though, Megan balks, as she claims her parents came down to see him get the award. A brief discussion leads Don to put his arm around her and opine that nothing is going to make Emile like him, and Megan doesn't bother disagreeing, instead explaining it's because she's his favorite. "Why do you think my mother's so competitive?" Oh, man, but Megan isn't done, as she goes on that that's why Marie was so flirtatious with Don. Don legit doesn't know what to say to that...
...but surprisingly, the day, his enthusiasm for learning French hasn't waned, as he's got a Berlitz book in hand as he lies on his office couch. Megan then enters and nervously asks Don if she can pitch him an idea, and Don, noting that she's established "a firm bed of insecurity" (heh), sits up to listen. It's a sign of how good the idea is that she's only five seconds into it before you can not only envision where she's going but wonder how no one thought of it before, but here it is: The talk about how her mother cooked spaghetti for her made her think of her mother becoming her via a movie dissolve, and that gave her the idea of going all the way back to cavemen, and then showing the tradition being handed down from mother to daughter throughout time, not just to the present but to the future, with a moon colony. Don rather stupidly points out that SCDP doesn't sell spaghetti, and the only explanation I can think of for him being so slow on the uptake is that he's still thinking in French, so Megan has to tell him the idea is for Heinz. Once he's caught up to the rest of the class, he's thrilled, and quickly orders the unseen Dawn to have Stan and Ginzo join him. Megan's worried they're going to hate her for this eleventh-hour change-up, but given that the words used to describe the pitch they were originally going to do were "human" and "cannonball," I can only imagine they're going to thank her from the bottom of their hearts. While they're waiting, Megan even one-ups Don on the slogan, and then Stan and Ginzo turn up, hear the news that they're changing Heinz, and look about as thrilled as Pauline hearing she's already used up her quota of morphine for the day.
Peggy gets a call from Abe ("Drexler" is his surname, in case we didn't know that), who asks her to join him at the Minetta Tavern for dinner. Peggy says she's swamped, and asks him just to come to the office, but Abe claims he can't talk to her there, and it's important. Stiffening, Peggy offers to meet him if she can come back, and Abe tells her seven o'clock before unceremoniously hanging up. Unsurprisingly, Stan and Ginzo then ride in on a wave of bitchery, with Ginzo asking if Megan "couldn't have been struck by lightning a week ago," and Stan suggesting it wasn't even her idea. But despite Stan crumpling up his Human Cannonball posterboard in frustration, he has to admit that the new idea is better than what they had, and Peggy, already checked out of this conversation, merely offers a mild "Good for her" before heading out...
...to see, of course, Joan. Peggy pussyfoots around for a bit, and Joan has little time for it, but when Peggy intensely asks for a cigarette, it's clear this is advice territory, so Joan invites Peggy to close the door. Peggy tells Joan that she has this terrible feeling that Abe is going to dump her, but when she lays out the facts -- they just saw each other, and he knew she was busy but he wouldn't take no for an answer -- Joan smiles to herself and offers that in her experience, when a man insists on a meal, he's got something important to say, and it's usually a proposal. Yup, that's what I was thinking, but Peggy thinks that's just for Joan, so Joan has to set her straight: "Men don't take the time to end things. They ignore you until you insist on a declaration of hate." Also what I was thinking, although not in nearly such Joan-like language. Peggy honestly can't believe that Joan's ever been dumped, leading Joan, not without some impatience, to tell her she's just like everybody else. And we all know that's not true, but I can appreciate where the words are coming from. Joan counsels Peggy to have her answer ready if a proposal is indeed coming, "especially if it's no," but from the look of unbridled joy on Peggy's face, that's not what she's thinking. Now I'm really hoping he's not going to dump her. Peggy wonders if she should go home and change, and Joan, with a subtle look that signals her mental calculations of what's in Peggy's closet, brightly replies, "Or better yet, go shopping!" I'm so glad she's back in the office.
Don and Megan are going over details for Heinz, the most notable being that the same actors would play the mother and child throughout the different time periods. Roger then busts in and notes that they're actually working, and it's not as awkward as "Megan, could you get us some ice?" but, typically where Roger's concerned, it's not great either. Megan heads out, and as Roger makes a beeline for Don's bar, he tells Don he's been working too. Don: "You finished yours, and now you're moving on to mine?" Heh. Roger, however, says he's been doing research on the ACS guys, and while Don doesn't think the atmosphere is going to be appropriate for drumming up new business, Roger demurs, asking if he remembers why he wrote that letter. Don counters by asking of Roger remembers saying it would kill their business, so Roger wonders if that means Don really thinks that people who sell cigarettes are bad, but Don tells him that's irrelevant -- the ACS people think that he was telling truth to power. "It doesn't matter why I wrote it." Roger sees his point, and muses that no one really knows why people throughout history have done good things. "For all we know, Jesus was trying to get the loaves and fishes account." Forget any emotion or depth he brings -- Jon Hamm should win an Emmy every year just for not breaking every time John Slattery delivers a line like that. Don says he'll do what he can, but he's not going to go overboard, especially not in front of Megan's Communist father, who hates him and all the capitalism he stands for. Roger, however, thinks that maybe Don's misinterpreting things, and dispenses the "sage" advice that lots of times, you think people are looking at you, but they're actually not. Don: "Lots of people that haven't taken LSD already know that, Roger." HA! I love that Roger has already babbled so much about his acid trip that people are preemptively cutting him off from bringing it up. Roger, unfazed, exhorts Don one more time before draining his drink and heading out...
...while Peggy, in a new dress (and double-stranded pearls, even!) turns up to the restaurant all aglow, which knowing this show has got to spell trouble. Abe gallantly pulls out Peggy's chair before telling her that the service there is great, but he asked the wait staff to leave them alone for a bit. Peggy first wants a drink, but thinks better of it, and instead gives Abe a big goofy smile. Aw. Abe nervously gets to what he came for -- they like being with each other, and it's getting to suck when they have to go to their separate corners, so he thinks they should... move in together. Oh, dear. Peggy at first thinks he might just be playing the proposal coy, and asks how on Earth they would ever do that, but Abe straightforwardly tells her it could work however she wanted, although her place would probably be better. It's awful to see her flinch now, and even though he goes on that he loves the idea of waking up to her, of sharing the same space and exchanging a look while they work, of grocery shopping together, it's not what she thought was coming. Mistaking the look on her face for being overwhelmed by the decision on its own merits, Abe tells her she doesn't have to answer right away, but after a few moments, she takes his hand with a yes, and he wells up as he kisses her hand and tells her she's making him so happy. He then asks if she wants to eat, and she positively bites off her response: "I do." HA HA HA! The writing in this episode is absolutely razor-sharp, as is the look with which she fixes him when he regards his menu. Man.
It's time for the Heinz dinner; in attendance are Raymond his wife Alice, Don and Megan, and Ken and... Cynthia! Cynthia (I wish I could still call her Mulva) is saying how her dad is on the board of the ACS and told her the voting was unanimous for Don, and Raymond says that's great, but they're going to have to miss the shindig, as they're heading back to Pittsburgh "the minute I leave your office smiling." A quiet alarm goes off in the back of Don's mind, and when he tells Raymond that Ken got the Raymonds tickets to the new Edward Albee play, Raymond's response that they saw it the night before makes the alarm more insistent. Before things get any more awkward, though, the women head off to the ladies' to freshen up...
...wherein Alice tells Megan that she really likes her, and she wanted to tell her that because Raymond is putting on such a good show out there. We'll agree to disagree, Alice, but the point is that she was prepared not to like Megan, but she sees how good she is for Don, and she hopes they can continue to be friends. Whether she thought Megan already knew about this and is now merely missing her look of shock, or she's giving her a chance to save the account and as such is willfully ignoring said look, is for you to decide...
...but Megan has the good sense, upon returning to the table, to put her arm around Don in a convincing display of affection while whispering in his ear, "We're getting fired." Don only betrays his own shock for a couple of moments, which is all he has to work with, because Raymond turns down the oblivious Ken's offer of a nightcap and says they're going to turn in. Don tries to hold him with talk about how he's saving him and Megan from kids and in-laws, but he's getting nowhere until Megan puts on a sunny smile and says that Don may joke about having a house full of people, but he loves it, then going full-on Samantha in Bewitched as she prompts, "Don?" Don gapes at her like the Darrin he's suddenly become, but when Megan's like, you know, tell them about last night, he pulls his eyes out of the headlights and animatedly starts talking about the three generations of women they had in the room, completely lying that beans were served instead of spaghetti. Megan, with the perfect amount of breathless wonder, says that she thought she'd done something wrong because Don was staring at them so carefully, and isn't it just deliciously ironic that this moment is showing off Megan's acting abilities so well? She goes on that it was because she'd given Don this idea, and Don turns his smile up to eleven as he acknowledges that; hilariously, Ken's still on Planet Clueless and asks if Don really wants to talk about this now, and Don's answering "Shut up, Spock, we're rescuing you" look is quite the thing to behold. Raymond shows signs of life in telling Ken to let Don talk, and Don, emboldened, gives the impression that well, this is just off the top of his head, but how about starting with a mother and daughter in prehistoric caves, then moving on through the ages. Raymond and Alice sit spellbound, and Raymond, like a kid hearing a story he likes, asks if it would all be the same mother and child, and Don and Megan exchange a total "I coulda had a V-8!" look as Don, dripping faux-wonder, says they hadn't even thought of that. Awesome. Don gets on to the moon, adding that "that part" was Megan's, and Megan wraps it up by saying that we're all so busy, and that probably will always be true, "but a mother and child? That'll never change." Just at this moment, Cynthia asks a passing waiter for more coffee, and Ken, now within the sphere of influence of the pitch, loudly shushes her, to her chagrin. Heh. Raymond says he'd like to see the artwork and think about it, but even Alice is like, "Oh, come ON!" at this point, opining that it's exactly what he was looking for, which is impossible to dispute. Ken suggests they get in the elevator, go down eleven floors (Raymond did mention that he thought only Time-Life people were allowed to eat there, so they're in the Hemisphere Club), and look at the work right now, but Raymond's response makes it sound like that won't even be necessary: "It's the future. That's all I ever wanted." It's true, and Conrad Hilton would be proud that Don finally got an ad campaign on the moon. Ken suggests they get some champagne, Raymond agrees, and if Alice is at all taken aback by this development of events, she doesn't show it, and good for her. Don and Megan are happy...
...and then positively jubilant as they get in a cab and start making out. Don bestows all kinds of admiration on her, saying that she knew what to do at every moment to save the account, while he was "just going to scream in his stupid face." Well, it would have been a waste without Peggy there to see it. He breathes that he wants her, but laments the fact that they won't be able to get it on comfortably at home. Megan brightly suggests they go back to the office, and it's a good thing it's a week off for Teyonah Parris, because she does not want to be on that couch tonight.
Whatever unspeakable acts it may have been forced to witness the night, in the morning, the SCDP offices are still standing, and Peggy, in her My Grandmother car coat and hat, marches into the break room to get some coffee. Unfortunately, she doesn't even have time to take a sip and spin her speech before Joan enters and tells her there's champagne in the conference room, as "Don and Megan" sold Heinz. All Peggy can do is nod, though, and between her face and the lack of a ring on her finger, Joan guesses that maybe she's not in the most festive mood. But while I can't think of many things more depressing that drinking champagne when you're sad, Peggy gives faking it the old college try, saying that what happened was actually better than a proposal (in your business, hon, you should stay away from overselling), and they're moving in together. However, when Joan raises a surprised (and at least partially impressed) eyebrow at Peggy's "shacking up," Peggy's act threatens to collapse. But Joan won't let it, and you can see it's tough ground for her to cover, but she tells Peggy that it sounds like Abe wants to be with her no matter what. Peggy smiles in relief, and not that we didn't know this already but it's nice to be reminded of, despite their sometime adversarial relationship, how highly she sets store by Joan's opinion; she admits she thought Joan was going to be disappointed for her, but Joan sincerely tells her she thinks Abe's idea is very romantic, and by the way, a marriage certificate didn't exactly make her husband value her more than his career. Peggy expresses sympathy, but Joan seems a bit more philosophical about the whole thing now, opines that Peggy is brave, and pulls her in for a sincere embrace. If Joan's on the market for more than a few months, the men of fictional 1966 New York need to WAKE UP.
Hey, how about that champagne? In the conference room, Ken is telling the boys the war story from the night before, with Harry predictably interrupting to finish the story, resulting in Ken irritatedly snapping, "You weren't even there!" Even this joke is ground we've covered with Harry; it's exhausting. Stan takes the time to congratulate both Don and Megan warmly, and when Megan claims beginner's luck, Stan gives her a "Girl, please" look before heading back toward the champers. Megan then takes off to share the news with Peggy while Ken asks Pete if he'd like the pleasure of telling Lane, but Pete says he earned it; besides, they're still about fifteen grand out of pocket on the account, the implication being that Lane's excitement is likely to be tempered. I thought the "besides" was going to be followed by something like "my face still hurts when I look at him," so I guess it's nice that the reason Pete's declining to visit him is a bit more mundane.
Megan, looking decidedly less thrilled than she did the night before, exits the conference room and runs right into Peggy, who congratulates her warmly and without a trace of equivocation. Then seeing that Megan's not out of her head with joy, she encourages her to celebrate, saying she doesn't know what the Canadian equivalent of baseball is, but she just hit a home run. Megan: "We have baseball." I know Daniel is shaking his head in empathy right now. Peggy, her enthusiasm undiminished, tells Megan she knows what she did, and it's huge, and when she did it, "they" acted like it happens all the time, but it doesn't. She goes on that she herself obviously failed to get it done with Heinz, and by rights she should be jealous, but she's just really proud of Megan in a girl-power way ("It's a good day for me," she hilariously adds), and she should enjoy what she's done. "And believe me, this is as good as this job gets." I love how one of Peggy's consistent character traits is the ability to think she's helping while making something worse, although at least she's defined the problem for Megan sharply here. Megan looks at least like she appreciates the effort, and the dynamic is rather poignantly ironic given how she laid into Peggy for being so cynical a few episodes ago. Then again, I'm inclined to cut anyone a break for their behavior when their parents are staying with them.
Presumably the day, Don emerges in his robe to find Bobby in his pajamas and Emile fully dressed. When he asks where everyone is, Emile absently tells him that "the girls" went out, and Bobby is helping him fill his fountain pen. Don looks at his son and sees black ink everywhere, and not just on the newspaper laid between the pen and the carpet. Don's delivery of "Thanks, Emile," is sublime, but still: White carpet, Don. You were well aware you were asking for this. The women enter, all six arms full of bags and boxes, but Don doesn't even have time to start computing the damage before Megan prompts Sally to ask "Papa" if she can come to the awards thingy. Don's amused by her French pronunciation, and Sally presses her advantage, saying she got a dress. However, when Marie offers, "Every daughter should get to see her father as a success," Emile angrily pounds the table in front of him with his fist and yells in French, "You won't be happy until I'm dead!" Megan winces, but Marie, unbowed, shoots back in the same language, "Who will cry? Your girlfriend?" Yikes, but it's probably good for Sally's emotional development to be aware that the ugliness she witnessed between her own parents is hardly unique. Don't worry, I'm not going to defend some of the other forms of education she receives in this episode. Marie follows the stomping Emile into the bedroom, and after the door slams, Don, surely to ease the tension as much as anything else, gives Sally leave to join them. She's thrilled, and asks if she can show Don her dress, but the sounds of muffled shouting in French cause Don and Megan to exchange a worried look, and Don tells the kids to put the TV on before he and Megan head into the back...
...whereupon Megan pulls him out of earshot of the door and whispers that Emile went to his publisher that morning "and was back within the hour," whereupon he proceeded to call up "Claudette," his "latest grad student," and cry to her when Marie walked in. I seem to recall something -- remember Megan's offhand remark about her college roommate liking her father a little too much? Serial cheater, this one, not that it doesn't happen all the time with professors. Don misses the point entirely, shrugging that Emile has a lot wrapped up in the book, and once again I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for his cluelessness, as this has been a lot to take in pre-coffee. Megan corrects him without acrimony, pointing out that Emile should be crying to Marie if he's going to cry to anyone, and Don sees her point. He asks what this means for that night, but Megan only sighs, "They do this all the time." Don the wordsmith has no response to that...
...so let's jump to a scene that, I'm sure, is going to go sooooooo much better. You see, Peggy and Abe are bustling around getting dinner ready, and the nervous care they're putting into it can only mean that Peggy's mother Katherine is coming to dinner. Abe insists on a solidarity kiss before they open the door, and then Peggy removes her apron and opens up. Katherine, pink cake box in hand, greets "Peaches" and "Abraham" warmly enough, although she does tell Peggy to leave the dessert in the box, as "it's very delicate." You may not be enamored of her manners, but you have to admire her foresight. Katherine accepts Abe's offer of sherry as he helps her with her coat, and then she offers that it smells nice. Abe tells her Peggy made a ham, which is his favorite, and there is an absolutely delicious pause as Katherine runs through everything she knows about Jewish people before she replies, "Really!" I'm not doing it justice, but in a really excellent episode it's one of my favorite little moments.
Elsewhere, the Draper family is dressed and ready when the doorbell rings, and it's Roger, dressed in a tux with his bowtie undone. Bobby asks him if he's babysitting, which is a plotline idea that will tragically go unexplored, as Roger tells him no before greeting the Calvets and asking if anyone knows how to tie his tie. Marie helps him out in spite of a knowingly disapproving look from Emile, and the fact that Marie tells Roger he looks like he was born in a bowtie probably doesn't help matters. Sally then appears, and everyone draws a breath, as she looks quite lovely in a silver sleeveless top with matching purse, off-white skirt, and white boots; she's a little young for the outfit, but that doesn't stop Don from gazing in wonder. Emile tells him there's nothing he can do: "No matter what, one day your little girl will spread her legs and fly away." In! Appropriate! Of course, Roger, guffaws at that one while Megan corrects him that it's "wings," while Don, trying to keep Sally's wings and legs on the ground for a bit longer, orders her to remove the makeup and the boots, or she can stay home. Sally reluctantly agrees...
...and then the group of them are walking into the ballroom, with Sally disappointedly noting that there's no staircase. With this group, the insurance probably wouldn't cover it. As Pete approaches, Roger makes a joke at his expense to Sally, and then Pete tells her she looks lovely before he whisks Don off to meet "Ed Baxter," Ken's father-in-law, who you'll remember is RAY WISE. Don takes Megan along with him to greet Ed, whom he thanks, but Ed tells him he had to recuse himself from the voting, although Don does write "some stirring copy." Don informs Ed that Megan's quite a copywriter too, and Ed's voice drops conspiratorially as he says he should pretend otherwise, but Cynthia told him all about the Heinz dinner. Megan smiles graciously but then casts a nervous look over at her parents...
...while Roger is telling Sally about Ed being at Dow Corning. "They make beautiful dishes, glassware... napalm." Hee. Roger points out some other bigwigs before putting his arm around Sally's chair and telling her she's going to be his date; as such, she needs to put all the business cards he collects in her purse and exhort him with a "Go get 'em, tiger." Aw. Meanwhile, Emile is pointedly and skeptically asking Pete what it is he actually does. In response, Pete asks if Emile isn't a scholar, and when he gets an acknowledgement of that, says that he's actually heard Emile's a bit of a trailblazer. Emile responds favorably to the flattery, and I enjoyed this even more seeing where it was going; Pete adds that the world would be better off if it knew about the work Emile is doing. Emile sincerely tells Pete he's very kind, and Pete pauses theatrically before intoning, "That, Emile, is what I do every day." HA! Won't get tired of that one soon. To his credit, Emile chuckles heartily once he gets the joke, while across the table, Roger sees the entrées coming out and dashes off to try to talk to some people before they start eating. When he's gone, Marie laughs to Sally that her date is very resourceful, and in case that's not enough of a clue where the evening is headed, Sally looks down at her entrée and sees that it's a big old cod. She tries a bite of the rice underneath it and looks like she's going to gag, and given what's to come there are about fifteen different jokes that come to mind, all of which are beneath me to make. Much like Marie is about to be beneath... DAMMIT.
Dinner at the Judeo-Christian Household Of Sin has finished, and when Abe takes some plates to the kitchen, Katherine leans in and tells Peggy that she wasn't going to leave before dessert, but "this is taking a little longer than I thought." Which brings up one of two key mistakes Peggy made -- she shouldn't have made her mother come into the city, as it was bound to put her in a bad mood. The other mistake is not having Anita along as a buffer, although I expect after this she's going to be the first phone call for both Peggy and Katherine. Anyway, having surely heard that it's time to get on with it, Abe returns, and he and Peggy clasp hands as she tells Katherine they have news. Katherine does her best to respond positively, which signals to me that she was going to meet the engagement news she thought was coming her way as favorably as she could. However, when Peggy tells her she and Abe are going to live together, her voice drops an octave, and even though Abe assures her that he's going to take very good care of Peggy, that's all Katherine needs to start heading for the exit, asking for the cake for good measure; when Peggy asks why, she replies, "Because I'm not givin' you a cake to celebrate youse livin' in sin." And please mark your cards, those of you who had "living in sin" in this game of Catholic Bingo. Peggy asks if Katherine would rather she not have told her, and Katherine snaps that yes, that's exactly right. "Just lie. You think you're the first ones ever to do this?" She has a point, given that her reaction isn't exactly unexpected. Of course, lying's a sin too, and I'm pretty sure God also frowns on showing up with baked goods and taking them home with you, so no one is exactly covering herself in glory here. Peggy, a little steamed now, grabs her mother before she can get out the door, but Katherine honestly asks what Peggy wants from her, at which point Abe does the smart thing by heading downstairs to get Katherine a cab. Peggy tells her that she invited her there as an adult, but Katherine shoots back that if she's so grown up, she shouldn't care what Katherine thinks. Peggy spits that she thought Katherine would be relieved that "she wasn't marrying the Jew," but Katherine, I think honestly, tells her it has nothing to do with that. She bitterly goes on that after Peggy's father died, there was no one to set Peggy straight, but he would feel the same way she does -- Peggy is selling herself short. "This boy, he will use you for practice, until he decides to get married and have a family. And he will, believe me." These words are like freezing truth -- I'm shivering here -- and all Peggy can manage against them is to ask dully if Katherine wants her to be alone, but Katherine's too much of an old pro not to finish what she started: "You know what your aunt used to say? You're lonely? Get a cat. They live thirteen years, then you get another one, and another one after that. Then you're done." Of all the cutting, pointed, absolutely sugar-free dialogue this show has ever offered, I'm not sure that this speech, delivered barely above a whisper, isn't the most hellacious of them all. Whatever you may think of the sentiment, you have to tip your hat to the execution. Katherine makes for points in Kings County, leaving her daughter barely able to stand, so crushed is her enthusiasm.
Don's up at the podium waiting for one of the ACS board members to finish jabbering about him; Roger whispers that there's baked Alaska for dessert, but they won't light it on fire yet so as not to wreck the speeches. Sally: "You're wrecking the speeches." Hee. Roger retorts that she's a mean drunk, eliciting a melodious laugh from Marie, which Roger certainly can't help but notice. Don finally gets his award from three people whose combined age looks to be about 847, and Roger opines that he should be by Don's side. Sally: "Go get 'em, tiger." Hee, but the last person we see looking Roger's way is Marie...
...and then we fade to a bit later, with Don and Megan returning to the table. Sally examines the award, which Don offers to her with some words about how lovely she is and how he's looking forward to her growing up. Roger then returns with a Shirley Temple for Sally ("It's time to start tapering off"), and then tells Don he promised "Frank from Ford" that he'd come over and say hello. But Roger, for his part, casts a glance at Marie, who's up from the table chatting with some random old woman, and the thing you know, they're bellying up to the bar and Marie is telling him how she's been watching him all night, and he's so full of life and ambition. This is Accounts-level flattery to a man like Roger, so he listens, rapt, as Marie goes on that when she was younger, she was always up for trying everything, and I have to deem it rather unfortunate that she refers to this tendency with the expression "get a taste." They flirt some more, with Marie correctly telling Roger that there's a little boy inside him, and then they both agree that they should never stop trying, and should have everything they want. And this is one of the big themes of the episode, but I'm just wondering when these two are going to start talking logistics.
Well, we don't hear that part, but when Sally excuses herself to go to the ladies' room, it's fairly noticeable that Megan and Emile are the only ones left at the table. Megan slides over and tells her father she's happy he came, but for all his faults, Emile's tuned in to what his daughter's feeling, and asks why, then, she looks so sad. He brings up the "big bean success" (heh) and asks if all this is really Megan's passion; trying to deflect the line of inquiry, Megan asks in French why he's speaking English to her, but he won't be swayed: "Because you have changed. I always thought that you were very single-minded about your dreams, and that that would help you through life. But now I see that you skipped the struggle and went right to the end." Megan defensively tells him she's only at the beginning, but Emile tells her all this wealth that someone dropped into her lap is bad for her soul, like Marx thought. He tells her not to let her love for Don stop her from doing what she wants to do, and you can see these words hitting her right in that huge apartment where she lives, but she begs him in French not to do this tonight, and, finally switching to their native tongue as well, he relents. It's interesting -- Peggy's taking an unconventional path, and her mother's punishing her for it, while Megan's choice -- finding a rich husband -- is certainly more common for a woman back then, but she's also being condemned for it. The common thread is that they're both being told by a parent, who despite a fraught relationship should know them quite well, that the path they've chosen is going to make them unhappy. Whether that will prove to be true, we can only wait and see, but it's worth keeping an eye on...
...but for the moment, our eyes are going to be quite busy, as Sally, probably already having used the bathroom and now looking for Roger, opens a door and finds him, back to her in a chair and legs wide open, getting serviced by one Mrs. Calvet. And if one of Roger's lifelong dreams was to get an Earth-shaking blowjob, I'm pretty sure he can cross that off his list. I have to give props to Ms. Ormond, both in effort and execution here; that neck is looking positively boneless as she goes to town. Sally, however, is not quite old enough to appreciate such nuances, and beats a hasty, shocked retreat. Hopefully this is the last time she walks in on someone giving her date head, but I wouldn't count on it.
In other disappointments, Don is chatting with Ed, who's sufficiently lubricated to tell Don he should get off his business entirely. Don doesn't grasp Ed's meaning, saying that clients like his work, but while Ed agrees wholeheartedly, he laughs that they don't like him. Don's face falls, but Ed's tongue is still far ahead of his brain, and he goes on that "this crowd" will give him awards and all, but they'll never work with him after the letter. "I mean, how could they trust you, after the way you bit their hand?" Oh, shit, I admit this little unpleasant truth, I did not see coming, and Don didn't either, and when Ed finally digests the look on Don's face, his expression collapses as well, making me think he was telling Don all this at least partially in the spirit of commiseration rather than vindictiveness. He asks if Don wants another drink, and all Don can really do is weakly accept...
...and then he, Marie, and Sally drift back to join Megan and Emile in rounding out The Saddest Awards Table In The World. Given what just happened, you can understand why they didn't include Roger. The waiter asks Sally if she's done with her Shirley Temple, and from her response, it sounds like she's off them for life...
...and then, with everyone else in the apartment asleep, she's calling Glen, apologizing for waking him. He asks why she's whispering, and she tells him about "Bluto" breaking her foot and her being in Manhattan. He asks how the city is, and she takes a moment to consider: "Dirty." Kind of the flipside of the hellish view of the suburbs we got a couple episodes, no? See you time.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, "The Trouble With Bliss," starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in Philadelphia, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.
...but for the moment, our eyes are going to be quite busy, as Sally, probably already having used the bathroom and now looking for Roger, opens a door and finds him, back to her in a chair and legs wide open, getting serviced by one Mrs. Calvet. And if one of Roger's lifelong dreams was to get an Earth-shaking blowjob, I'm pretty sure he can cross that off his list. I have to give props to Ms. Ormond, both in effort and execution here; that neck is looking positively boneless as she goes to town. Sally, however, is not quite old enough to appreciate such nuances, and beats a hasty, shocked retreat. Hopefully this is the last time she walks in on someone giving her date head, but I wouldn't count on it.
In other disappointments, Don is chatting with Ed, who's sufficiently lubricated to tell Don he should get off his business entirely. Don doesn't grasp Ed's meaning, saying that clients like his work, but while Ed agrees wholeheartedly, he laughs that they don't like him. Don's face falls, but Ed's tongue is still far ahead of his brain, and he goes on that "this crowd" will give him awards and all, but they'll never work with him after the letter. "I mean, how could they trust you, after the way you bit their hand?" Oh, shit, I admit this little unpleasant truth, I did not see coming, and Don didn't either, and when Ed finally digests the look on Don's face, his expression collapses as well, making me think he was telling Don all this at least partially in the spirit of commiseration rather than vindictiveness. He asks if Don wants another drink, and all Don can really do is weakly accept...
...and then he, Marie, and Sally drift back to join Megan and Emile in rounding out The Saddest Awards Table In The World. Given what just happened, you can understand why they didn't include Roger. The waiter asks Sally if she's done with her Shirley Temple, and from her response, it sounds like she's off them for life...
...and then, with everyone else in the apartment asleep, she's calling Glen, apologizing for waking him. He asks why she's whispering, and she tells him about "Bluto" breaking her foot and her being in Manhattan. He asks how the city is, and she takes a moment to consider: "Dirty." Kind of the flipside of the hellish view of the suburbs we got a couple episodes, no? See you time.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, "The Trouble With Bliss," starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in Philadelphia, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.
...but for the moment, our eyes are going to be quite busy, as Sally, probably already having used the bathroom and now looking for Roger, opens a door and finds him, back to her in a chair and legs wide open, getting serviced by one Mrs. Calvet. And if one of Roger's lifelong dreams was to get an Earth-shaking blowjob, I'm pretty sure he can cross that off his list. I have to give props to Ms. Ormond, both in effort and execution here; that neck is looking positively boneless as she goes to town. Sally, however, is not quite old enough to appreciate such nuances, and beats a hasty, shocked retreat. Hopefully this is the last time she walks in on someone giving her date head, but I wouldn't count on it.
In other disappointments, Don is chatting with Ed, who's sufficiently lubricated to tell Don he should get off his business entirely. Don doesn't grasp Ed's meaning, saying that clients like his work, but while Ed agrees wholeheartedly, he laughs that they don't like him. Don's face falls, but Ed's tongue is still far ahead of his brain, and he goes on that "this crowd" will give him awards and all, but they'll never work with him after the letter. "I mean, how could they trust you, after the way you bit their hand?" Oh, shit, I admit this little unpleasant truth, I did not see coming, and Don didn't either, and when Ed finally digests the look on Don's face, his expression collapses as well, making me think he was telling Don all this at least partially in the spirit of commiseration rather than vindictiveness. He asks if Don wants another drink, and all Don can really do is weakly accept...
...and then he, Marie, and Sally drift back to join Megan and Emile in rounding out The Saddest Awards Table In The World. Given what just happened, you can understand why they didn't include Roger. The waiter asks Sally if she's done with her Shirley Temple, and from her response, it sounds like she's off them for life...
...and then, with everyone else in the apartment asleep, she's calling Glen, apologizing for waking him. He asks why she's whispering, and she tells him about "Bluto" breaking her foot and her being in Manhattan. He asks how the city is, and she takes a moment to consider: "Dirty." Kind of the flipside of the hellish view of the suburbs we got a couple episodes, no? See you time.
John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. His current film, "The Trouble With Bliss," starring Michael C. Hall, Lucy Liu, Brie Larson, and Peter Fonda, can be seen this coming week in theaters in Philadelphia, as well as on iTunes and other digital platforms and cable VOD everywhere. (Facebook and Twitter here.) You can email him at couchbaron@gmail.com, follow him on Twitter at https://twitter.com/couchbaron, or check out his blog, "Pull Up A Chair," which he'd just love for you to stop by.