"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. 

"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."

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.