"I'm drinking RUM!"

Okay, fine, FINE, I will totally, 100% concede... I'm back on Team Draper. You did, Mad Men. Here we are... one big, happy family again. (Sorta.) And with that, I launch into the theme of this week's episode "The Strategy" and its theme: family.

In gearing up for the big Burger Chef pitch, Peggy delivers a grand slam hit in rehearsal - pitching the idea of comforting moms who feed their family Burger Chef. Winning quote of the night:

"Who can best validate moms?"
"Dads!"

Peggy feels great about this strategy, until Pete insists that Don be the one to pitch. (And I just don't see his point on squaring them off with emotion vs authority.) Peggy delivers the news to Don, insisting that it was her idea which Don sees through immediately. He's not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and is privately overjoyed that he's really back in the saddle. (Two horse metaphors. Sorry.) But now Peggy's original, brilliant idea is tainted.

Megan pays Don a visit in New York and the two have an odd and seemingly unfulfilling weekend, (at least from Megan's point of view). Don is overjoyed to have her back, supplying her with sneak attack hugs, compliments and surprise shopping trips while Megan could clearly care less. We see Megan riffling through her closet on a mission to find her fondue pot to bring back to LA. Don offers to bring it with him during his next visit and Megan suggests that they meet somewhere neutral. A kiss of death if I've ever seen one. I guess it was enough to send Don back to the office to sit with Peggy while she tries to come up with a better idea to top her winning pitch.

The two brainstorm, (in Lou's office) drink and like any good session, one of them breaks down in tears in the end. I very often forget the differences in time periods when I'm reminded that turning 30, for a single woman in 1969, was the equivalent of menopause. Peggy is not only overwhelmed by her need to be at the top of her game and surpass her ex-boss, but she's single, "childless" and sad. What does she know about the voice of mothers for this upcoming Burger Chef pitch? Yet the two, (rather, Peggy) gets to a good place and discovers their new angle: family. And their creative session ends with one of the more touching moments in the past few seasons for me with Peggy and Don sharing a dance to Sinatra's "My Way." Peggy rests her head on his chest, a loving yet vulnerable move that I feel like really showed her cards. Don is her professional equal, her old mentor, her father, her teacher and now her friend. The two have shared so much in the past and I'm so relieved that they've "kissed and made up." (Cue Katie being back on Team Draper.)

Welcome back, Bob Benson! I've missed your pleasing face. While we've suspected Bob's sexual orientation in last year's season, there is no mistaking it in this one. He's back in New York for a very informative trip. While bailing out his client after a sexually permissive run-in with an undercover cop, Bob learns that SCP may have lost the the Chevy business, something better is coming up. It's with this and this alone that he decides to finally pop the question to Joan, his good friend whom he could easily carry on this charade with for the rest of his life, giving her a chance to have a family and giving him a chance to hide in plain sight. Joan doesn't take the bait and insists that she'd rather die hoping that love happens to her instead of making some kind of arrangement. She really is a classy lady.

And Pete Campbell and his insecure, outrageously upsetting way of demonstrating his own deranged vision of family... He comes back into town to pay his "yearly visit" to Tammy, his daughter. Trudy conveniently leaves for the day to avoid Pete but in Pete's mind, it's clearly her "debutante" tactic into inciting jealousy. Meanwhile, he brought his girlfriend along with him to New York, because who says Pete can't have his cake and eat it too? (PUN INTENDED!) Because in true Pete Campbell fashion, he slams his beer down into the middle of Trudy's newly-frosted cake and leaves the room. (Sort of reminiscent of setting his empty tumbler down onto his secretary's chair before leaving for the day. What a dickworm.)

But the episode ends very over-the-top metaphorically and very beautifully. Peggy, Don and Pete meet at Burger Chef for dinner and to discuss their next steps in winning their business. They are a family, demented as it may be. Don, the proud father, is in total support of Peggy, the talented daughter. Pete, the smarmy brother, has been left high and dry by his girlfriend and begrudgingly yet happily joins his family for dinner. The three share a TV-free meal together, just like Peggy envisioned.

I really, really enjoyed this episode and will be very sad to see next week's mid-season finale come to an end. 

"I'm not stupid, you know. I speak Italian!"

After every Mad Men episode, I try to think of one word, one theme that best defines the plot as a whole. This week? Oddly enough, the best word I could use to sum it all up is "loyalty." It seems like every character, hell, every person, is a slave to the groove in some form or another. This theme plays out in this week's episode of "The Runaways" through marriage, brands, father figures, patriotism and comically, (read: tragically) through mental instability.

Stephanie, the niece of Anna Draper calls up Don looking for help. She's pregnant and alone in LA and needs some cash to get her to Oakland where she'll be with friends and people who can help her through her fast-approaching labor. Don is delighted to hear from her and relishes the fact that he can play the role of a gracious Uncle to a family member whom he actually loves. Stephanie is probably the most stable family member he has and loves him despite his secrets. After all, she knows him as Dick Whitman, the loving companion of her favorite and beloved aunt.

Don sends Stephanie to Megan's place to a shockingly warm and welcoming Megan. Stephanie is dirt-covered, yet radiant and all smiles. The two proceed to awkwardly comment on each other's magnetic beauty and share a hug. Megan seems totally okay with Stephanie taking a shower, wearing her robe and making her whatever she'd like to eat. They even chat about Anna Draper, Don's secret first wife and Megan remains the ever-calm presence. But when Stephanie jokingly mentions that she knows all of Don's secrets, (which, c'mon... Megan knows the exact same secrets!) Megan reacts very coldly, completely changing the temperature of the conversation. She scolds Stephanie for her "disorganized plans" and Stephanie graciously takes it on the chin. Megan writes her a large check and sends her on her way.

Meanwhile at the office, Michael Ginsberg is quickly unraveling over the presence of the looming computer, claiming that not only has the radio stopped working because of it but the computer has the ability to turn people "homo." No one seems to notice but Peggy who is understandably concerned and worried for him. Stan and company are having a field day with the discovery of Lou's off-hours hobby - the creation of "Scout's Honor," a humorous political cartoon about a monkey serving for the war effort. Lou finds out that he's become the butt of everyone's joke and takes it out on his staff, making them work late and giving them a speech about patriotism and idealistic dreams.

Don is rightfully upset when he shows up in California the next morning and discovers that Stephanie has already left. While he doesn't know what exactly happened, and Megan isn't telling him, he's upset that Megan didn't call him earlier to let him know Stephanie was leaving or even get a chance to talk to her. Before leaving for the market with her dopey red headed friend Amy, ("Hi, we met on the phone!") she tells Amy not to worry about what to pick up on their errand saying, "I know what he likes." It's just such an odd little moment of Megan claiming her rightful place as leading lady in Don's life.

That night at Megan's party, Don is the odd man out, serving as the dud in the dinner jacket as his wife dances freely with her fellow misanthropic free-spirited friends. Ironically his saving grace is the arrival of Harry and the two escape to a bar to talk shop. Don learns that SCP is secretly advancing towards winning the business of General, the cigarette company, which would mean that Don would find himself without a job. We learn later that this would in fact be the case after his very public temper tantrum written in letter-form and published in the New York Times. With this knowledge, he grumpily returns home after the party has ended and most of the guests have gone home. "You know what would make you feel better?... Drugs!" offers Megan's dopey new shadow. (Was it strange that we first see her painting Megan's toenails and answering her phone? It feels like she's Megan's lapdog, answering to every beck and call. "Paint my nails! Answer my phone! Leave the room! Sleep with my husband!") Megan sends Amy to "tuck Don in" and the three warily engage in a threesome. While it was an incredibly risque move on AMC's part, how awkward was it that this was least sexy threesome ever portrayed on TV? I felt downright sorry for all of them.

In the morning, Megan clearly didn't win at her attempt to keep her husband interested, as he is delighted when Stephanie calls letting him know that she made it to Oakland. Megan childishly bangs around the kitchen, angry and jealous. (Why?!) Don needs to return to New York to deal with the cigarette business and quickly kisses Megan goodbye. Megan sadly stands in the kitchen alone, hungover and wearing the same robe that Stephanie was seen wearing the day before. How did she think that a threesome would keep Don interested or bring them closer? Maybe it wasn't her intention, but I felt like it was all a play in her inability to be "as important" to Don as Stephanie maybe is? I don't know. And did anyone else feel like Stephanie was the one Megan really wanted in this inner bedtime circle?

And how, oh how, am I just mentioning the great Betty Francis debacle? Betty is psyched to be the first stop in a neighborhood mixer party and excitedly gives homework duties to the maid as she prepares the silver and plans the menu. She is over the moon to be the wife of an important public figure and relishes every chance she gets to show off how important they are. (Like walking in to the conversation about the streetlights, "And you want Henry to fix them?" Listen, Sweet Valley High! How bout you let other people finish their sentences!) But Henry and Betty butt heads after they realize they're on the other side of the fence over the issue of the Vietnam War. Betty remains a loyal patriot, supportive of the current war that she knows nothing about, while her husband believes the war needs to end. While the Vietnam War was clearly the most unfounded war to date, (*coughcough* present war(s) excluded), I was a little miffed for her that Henry threw out, "Leave the thinking to me!" later that night. The next day, Betty throws a temper tantrum in the kitchen after Henry returns from helping Sally get her poor almost-broken nose fixed. Let's all say it together, now: "I'M NOT STUPID, YOU KNOW! I SPEAK ITALIAN!" Oh, Betty. Oh, Betty Francis, I can't help it, you are truly my favorite.

And then of course, we come back to Ginsberg and the scene that's left me tightly crossing my arms since I re-watched this episode. After stopping by Peggy's house over the weekend and claiming with certainty that the computer is to blame for the bizarre sexual feelings that he's having for her, Peggy is rightfully relieved with a seemingly normal Ginsberg walks into her office on Monday morning. He said he'd found the valve to release all of these negative waves that he's receiving from the computer and hands her box, a token of his gratitude. Or what Peggy quickly learns is, "the valve" that Ginsberg speaks of. It is his nipple. He cut off his fucking nipple and put it in a box for her. What's even more horrifying, is that I was eating Pepperoni Pizza while watching this and have remained emotionally scarred since. We see Michael being wheeled away on a gurney as a crying Peggy looks on, taking one last turn to the massive computer and giving it the stink eye.

And Don, as we suspected, shows up uninvited to the secret cigarette meeting clearly trying to keep his foot in the swinging door that was once his company. Don states that he knows how to beat the opposition and raises fair points in why General should consider him to be part of their team. The men ask him how loyal he is if he's selling out his own friends. Don replies that he wasn't trying to sell out anybody, he was fighting for his own business.

Everyone in this episode remains loyal to something, if not blindly so. Don is happy that a family member could turn to him in a time of need and wants to dutifully play out the role of Uncle while vying for his position of power in a company that wants to kick him to the curb. Betty remains loyal to her country and the image of power from being the politician's wife yet turns a blind eye to the love and attention that her children deserve. Lou insists that all these "flag-burners" could learn a thing or two about patriotism and loyalty from his beloved cartoon character. And Megan Draper remains loyal to herself. This has to be the most attention I've ever paid to a Mad Men episode and even after a second viewing, I can't stop thinking about all the ways I want to keep talking about it.

"Honey, These People Are on Drugs and They All Have Venereal Diseases."

It's been three weeks since Don has been accepted back into the arms-length-arms of SCP and as we all expected, he hasn't left his office yet. Based on his fast acceptance of their strict terms of employment at the end of the last episode, I sort of thought Don would've been a little more amiable to his coworkers and superiors. But it looks like Don has never been more frustrated or willing to throw his own private temper tantrum.

For the fair price of $100 more a week, Peggy gets the unlucky job of overseeing Don in a new business pitch. While she's hesitant to accept this "reward," she does get a bit of satisfaction in knowing that Don has to answer to her. But Don being Don, he's not going to answer to anyone. Instead he shirks his responsibility to write tags for Peggy and openly stays in his office playing solitaire and chain smoking.

And can we blame him? Well, yes, actually. Don's a dickworm who needed a kick in the pants. He's lived in a world where he was on top, in charge and could do no wrong for too long. Now at the bottom of the totem pole, Don still thinks he can rest on his laurels and expect that the company will be thankful and overjoyed that Don's charming presence has graced the halls of SCP once more. But alas, it is just Roger who is happily checking up on him to see if he's doing his job, (really, just showing up to work on time). But in the end, Don, to everyone's delight, is still working out of a dead man's office with the door closed.

Meanwhile, Mona and Roger must deal with the heartbreaking news that any parent in the tender year of 1969 dreads getting: "My daughter's in a commune?!" Roger reluctantly gets involved and the two drive upstate in an attempt to talk some sense into their daughter Margaret. A very different Margaret steps out of the dilapidated farm house and a dirty, poncho-wearing yet oddly attractive 'Marigold' descends the stairs towards her well-dressed, sophisticated parents.

Mona immediately reminds Marigold of her responsibilities as a Mother and insists that she stop being selfish and not abandon her family. Marigold, clearly discovering that life is pretty sweet when you reject traditional society, tosses back some hefty insults at Mona and sweetly hand slaps her for how well she did her own job. Mona quickly resigns to the fact that Marigold will never listen to common sense and flees the scene while Roger, no stranger to the exotic call of the bohemian lifestyle, decides to stay and see what Marigold's new life is all about.

Roger gets a taste of reality after a night on the farm. Sure, he got to smoke some grass, peel some potatoes and sleep in a loft with his spiritually enlightened daughter and be "the cool dad" but things went South quickly after Marigold slinks off into the night to have sex. Come morning, Roger tries and fails at literally carrying Marigold out of this situation. Some heated words are tossed at Roger and he quickly realizes maybe he wasn't the father of the year, walking, (presumably) towards the train, covered in mud with his tail between his legs. What's interesting about Roger, is that he himself shares a bed with multiple partners of varying ages and disciplines, expands his mind on Acid and still shows up to work in a suit and tie. Seeing him on a farm, quick to jump in to the fun and play the roll, is still wearing an expensive suit at the end of day. Connected, but not all the way there to the two worlds he has his feet in.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be called out, but I really found it interesting how the men and women were portrayed in this episode both in and out of the office. Peggy gets a raise and is put in a powerful position overseeing her former boss, only to have to cater to his whims and be patient until he comes around on his own. Marigold and her other free-loving female friends are the ones shown doing the work, peeling the potatoes and raising the children while the men, (the 'man') rolls joints and shrugs his shoulders at the mention of gathering firewood. The same man who wakes up Marigold next to her sleeping father to go have a roll in his own hay. I don't know, maybe it wasn't meant to be pointed out, but I thought this juxtaposition between the two sexes was very interesting.

The subject of man vs. technology was a huge theme during 'The Monolith.' The new, looming presence of the office computer seemed to both delight and unnerve people in different ways. (By the way, I LOVED seeing how a computer needed to be installed and take days to do so!) Don's quick friendship with Lloyd, the "LeaseTech" representative who sought advertising advice over a smoke, proved to be unlucky in that it only furthered Don's inability to feel like he's really "at work" again.

Frustrated, Don does what Don does best: proceeds to secretly binge drink in his office, breaking one of the biggest rules that will keep him employed. Valiant Freddy Rumsen comes to the rescue and brings him home to both sober him up and give him a dose of real talk. "Do the work," he says. Don says he doesn't need to hear this right now, to which Freddy says, "You're hungover, this is the best time to hear this." The talk seemed to do the trick and Don gets to work early to finish up on those tags for Peggy. For all the things we can blame Don for, being good at his job isn't one of them. I was so glad to see him back at his typewriter, clean shaven, humbled and ready to truly do the work. But as I said at the end of last week's episode: "We'll see."

"I know how I want you to see me."

This week's Mad Men episode "Field Trip" may have truly made me, (sllliiiigggghtly) more empathetic with Don's plight. While I'm not quite ready to get back on the Don Draper train to Pityville, I will say that I at least stretched my legs at the SorryCharlie Depot.

Poor Don can't get the attention he feels he deserves from his reliable and trusting secretary Dawn. What with her new responsibilities as head of Personnel, her phone is ringing off the hook and Don is no longer at the top of pile of priorities for someone with her schedule to deal with. And speaking as someone who used to be an assistant for a number of years, how infuriated did you get at watching Don pitch a fit for having to dial a number... BY HIMSELF?!

After Don discovered that his wife Megan may possibly be making the wrong impression out in LA and trying a little too hard to nail certain auditions, Don jumps on a plane to go "surprise her." Moments after a post-coital cuddle on the couch with a throughly surprised Megan, the two immediately get into a fight about the real reason why he's out there: to reprimand her for her actions. (And aren't post-coital fights the absolute worst time in the history of time to have a fight? ::zip::)

Megan quickly finds out that Don has been lying to her for several months about his job. He doesn't "not have a job" but is simply collecting a paycheck. (Oh, how Don enjoys at least the appearance of things.) But don't worry, he tells her, there's no one else and he hasn't even been drinking that much. Megan then delivers the best line in the show: "So with a clear head, you got up every day and decided that you didn't want to be with me." BURN. Don, incapable of truly understanding anyone else's reactions to his ridiculous actions, doesn't seem to get the fact that the only reason Megan is out there in the first place is because of him. He was the one who changed his mind in starting over again in LA, leaving her stranded. Once again, he remains the solitary planet in the universe that all objects must gravitate around.

Meanwhile in McMartyrland, my favorite neighbor Francine returns to have lunch with Betty. They discuss Francine's new part time job at a Travel Agency and how challenging yet truly rewarding hard work can be. Betty offers, "I thought children were supposed to be the reward." While it's a lovely sentiment, we all know Betty has already won "Worst Mother of the Year" ten times over. She returns home to find her housekeeper helping Bobby with his homework and quickly agrees to chaperone his field trip to a local farm. (Though quickly cutting off Bobby's excitement over this fact.)

The field trip started out so nicely... Betty and Bobby had a "conversation" on the bus, Betty poisoned Bobby's opinion of his teacher, Betty and another mother poisoned the air with their cigarette smoke and other haughty remarks about the teacher's braless appearance. Betty even took a swig from the bucket to taste the sweet, warm, barfy milk fresh from the cow's teat! Things all went south quickly, when Bobby traded Betty's sandwich for a bag of gum drops. Betty lights up a cigarette and reverts to her icy self, even making Bobby eat the gum drops as a punishment. How ironic was it that Bobby must be throughly confused at seeing his mom actually want to eat lunch after so many years of being overweight, and now he's been punished by being forced to eat his mistake. Oof. "I wish it was yesterday," poor Bobby said later of the field trip. Betty is the worst mother on the planet, yet still takes time out of her day for punishing her children and those around her, for not praising her for being the opposite.

Meanwhile, Don quickly returns to New York to, (finally) try and get his job back. He goes to get an offer at another firm before stopping by Roger's apartment, (pre-BLT/LSD) to shove the offer envelopment in his face. Roger tells him to return on Monday, but fails to let the rest of his partners know that. Whether or not it's just Don being Don, he truly believes that they were going to be seemingly happy to see him return to the office. And of course, they are not.

After a day of waiting around in the creative office, flipping through magazines and pretending that Dawn is still the person responsible for getting his coffee, (did I mention that I used to be an assistant?), he's finally called in to a meeting of the partners to find out what the final verdict is. They'll have him back to work, but under certain rules. #1 No private meetings with clients. #2 No drinking at the office unless it's for client entertainment, and #3 He must report directly to Lou. (Side note: how is Lou still there? With a two year contract, no less!) As much as everyone would be okay with letting Don quietly fade into oblivion, I suppose they realized that he is still under contract and it would be much too expensive to buy him out as a partner. Without so much as a whimper, a hint of ego or dissent, Don simply says, "OK."

FADE TO BLACK.

It will certainly be interesting to see how Don's assimilation back into SCP goes from here. He has quite a few relationships to patch up and quite a few changes to make in his own life. Do I think he can do it? On one hand, I could care less. On the other, well, only time will tell.

A Day's Work

This week's appropriately titled Mad Men episode 'A Day's Work' was successful in illuminating just how difficult it is for our cast to complete a full day's work. How could they, what with bouquets of card-less flowers causing confusion and secretaries who are incapable of being in ten places at once! Even if it wasn't Valentine's Day, it's a wonder anyone gets anything done!

Let's talk about Peggy. Poor, poor, poor Peggy. She's been treated like she's on of the boys for so long that she forgets how girlish she really can be. What started as a normal day in the office, quickly turns after one elevator ride with the guys who tease her about her single and sad status. She exits the elevator, realizing it's Valentine's Day and immediately assumes a card-less bouquet of flowers sitting on her secretary's desk is for her. Not only that, she assumes they're from Ted.

In what should have been a quick answer to the identity of the flowers, Shirley, Peggy's secretary, lets her believe they're for Peggy and goes off to sulk. Throughout the day, Peggy's frustration with the possibility that they really are from Ted gets the best of her. She returns the flowers to Shirley's desk claiming that she doesn't want them in her office anymore only later to come out insisting that they should be thrown away. Only then does Shirley confess that they're actually from Shirley's fiancee. Peggy explodes, claiming that everyone knows Shirley is engaged, why does she need to rub it in everyone's faces with flowers and embarrass Peggy like that. It was mortifying to watch and I was thankful when it was over.

And across the office, another battle of boss vs. secretary brews. Sally Draper, after ditching a funeral in the city for shopping, quickly loses her purse and finds her way to her father's office for help. Only she discovers the despicable Lou sitting in her Dad's office. Confused, she makes her way to her Dad's apartment to wait for him. Dawn returns to her desk from buying perfume for Lou's wife only to get an earful from Lou about how this is all her fault. My favorite scene follows in which Dawn and Joan are called into Lou's office with a request that Dawn be taken off of his desk. I really like the way that Mad Men is handling this issue of race in the workplace because we actually get to see Dawn scream, rather justifiably, at her wretched boss. Joan lets this happen because it's the right thing to do. I guess I enjoyed this scene so much because after so many years of seeing race being handled in the way that, well, race was handled in the 60s during this show, it was refreshing to see this issue changing in the way that it presumably did during this time.

Dawn is moved to reception only for Cooper to wander out and see her, making claims to Joan later that we can't have a "person of color" sitting as the face of their company. "People can see her from the elevator." Maybe it's just me, I never would've pictured Cooper's character saying this. So in an effort to quell the furies of unrelenting bosses, Joan does what any good head of personnel would do: she gives her title and position to Dawn, removing her from reception and rewarding her with a much better job. Joan then takes up Jim's suggestion and rewards herself with a better office, leaving her personnel responsibilities to someone else. I loved how that all played out.

But now to the matter at hand, (ugh), Don Draper. Last week I was frustrated over the fact that I couldn't decide whose story this was anymore. This week I'm going to say that I hope this turns into Sally Draper's story. She has completed her metamorphosis into a full-blown teenager and is walking and talking beyond her years. Realizing that her father has been lying to her about temporarily losing his job, he drives her back to school trying to engage in conversation with her. Sally has become one of the only voices of reason in Don's life, challenging him when he's caught in a lie and forcing him to tell the truth, or at least a version of it. Don has a lot of apologizing to do with Sally and Sally certainly isn't waiting around for her father to magically become a father. But they're trying. The car fight was one of the best father-daughter spats I've seen in some time.

And when Sally finally exits the car at her school, she pauses at the door and says, "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you." Seeing Don's face absorb what just happened as the door closed was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. His daughter has barely expressed anything to him in the past few years and he certainly hasn't earned it. To see his daughter not only tell him that he loved her, but to mean it must have blindsided Don like nothing else could. While I still have ice running through my veins at the mention of Don Draper's name, Sally was able to melt away a few paths with that last line.

And let us sing.

Whose Story is This?

I've started in on Season 7 of Mad Men with one major thought in mind: I'm no longer going to pay any attention to Don Draper's character anymore. It just feels so over, like it's no longer his story anymore. But whose story is it?

The show's premiere, appropriately named 'Time Zones,' was perfect for drawing the comparisons and differences between the East and West coast and our cast of characters strung in between. It's a few months from where we left off after Don was suspended from work, Megan has moved to California along with Ted and Pete Campbell. (PETE! More in a minute on that...) From the time Megan so stylishly steps out of her convertible to pick up her decidedly-the-same handsome husband, my brain switched off and I no longer wanted to pay attention to his side.

You know who I did want to take notice of? PETE CAMPBELL! Oooooh, Pete, how I've missed you so! He came back with flying colors, (speaking of color - that tan! That sweater!). We follow Megan and Don's short-lived trip together as they try and squeeze in a normal husband/wife visit, except it's anything but. (How 'bout Megan's agent? I loved him. "I will not!" (Except, can we talk about Megan's "fixing your teeth" comment from her agent? Eesh.)

Megan is seemingly at home in her newly decorated, newly acquired apartment with a view of the canyon. With coyotes howling in the background, I couldn't help but imagine what will happen later this year for the cast out in LA. It being 1969, I'm assuming they're going to cover the Charles Manson/Sharon Tate murders, conveniently located within close proximity of where I'm imagining Megan is living.

One glaringly uncomfortable blip in Megan and Don's storyline was the fact that Don has Megan convinced that he still has a job. And later, during the meeting with Freddy Rumsen, we learn that Don still truly believes he has his job because he's still getting paid. Don takes the red eye back to New York "to work" and is conveniently sitting next to a charmingly disturbed widow played by Neve Campbell. The two share a dramatic and emotionally bonding experience on this overnight flight, yet he turns down a chance at another fling. Has he changed? Absolutely not. And you know what? I couldn't be less interested.

Back in New York, our East Coasters aren't doing all that well either. Roger, (oh, Roger, I've missed you too) wakes up in a pool of naked bodies after a night of enlightenment. ("I feel like we really got somewhere last night.") Sharing a bed with whomever is welcome and throwing himself down the rabbit hole has his daughter taking notice. Over brunch we see her "forgiving" her father for his transgressions. We get the feeling that she's joined some sort of new age group, (cult?) and provides yet another example of the general storytelling/smattering of what it was like in the year of 1969.

Peggy, nowhere near where I thought she'd be this season, is catering to a new stand-in boss. She's pushed herself into exhaustion and is finding herself overworked and alone, feeling like no one else wants to push themselves to do good work like she does. Seeing her breakdown in her empty apartment in one of the last scenes was truly heartbreaking, if not obvious. I think we're all just waiting for Peggy to take that next step into something truly scary: being okay with normalcy.

And in other news, Joan is still struggling with that last foothold before she really believes she's a part of the upper epsilon at, (what's this agency called again?). And Ken, poor Ken, is starting to sound more and more like the old, disgruntled Pete Campbell, (but with one less eyeball). I'm looking forward to seeing what the Francis family has been up to. What kid is playing Bobby now? And though a few months have passed in the storyline, Sally is what, 27 at this point?

While the premiere of Season 7 did not blow me away, it was nice to meet up with everyone again and see where they've gone. As the 60's draw closer to an end and certain moments have yet to be lived, (Manson! Woodstock! MAN ON THE MOON!), this episode merely served as a jumping off point for what I hope will continue this season: Don Draper being dragged away by wild coyotes.

"Your Face Looks Like a Bag of Walnuts"

After this week's episode of Mad Men, I'm left thoroughly convinced that Don Draper has officially become the least interesting character on television. When entire episodes become devoted to yet another peek into Don's former life as Dick Whitman, you know you're in for nothing substantial.

The more we learn about Don, the less interested I am in seeing him achieve anything - especially failing. In what was a twisted turn for the cast of Mad Men in Sunday night's drug induced episode, it became the most boring and ridiculous waste of a storyline.

In other news, have you seen this girl? Her name is Sally Draper and she's gone missing. Some say she ran away, some say her mother ate her, others are convinced her father abandoned her on a train filled with circus people. Whatever the case may be, please call the authorities if you have information. Do not, repeat, do not call her parents.