SADLY, NO GOOD JOG BRAS IN 1963: So no one, really, had a good day on last night's Mad Men. As always, our friend Alan Sepinwall presents the blow-by-blow (or, in this case, the blow-by-retrospectively-ill-advised-non-blow). But just in case you had spent any time over the last 2 1/2 seasons thinking that you should have been born somewhere around NYC in the early '30s (if male) or the early-mid '40s (if female), then let last's night's episode serve as an assurance to you that life can pretty much suck no matter who or when you are. (Unless you're Ken Cosgrove, who thus far seems to lead a charmed life.)
I just did a quick wiki search of Conrad Hilton to see whether the common zeitgeist has yet determined how accurate of a portrayal Mad Men's Connie actually is. The only noteworthy tidbit as yet revealed there is that by the time Connie meets Don, he's already been married to and divorced from Zsa Zsa Gabor. I have no opinion as to whether or not this contributed to his desire to have a hotel on the moon.
As for the big plot points: Was anyone expecting that to be Don's reaction to Lee Garner Jr.'s ultimatum? Have we seen the last of Henry Francis? Can Hilton's feathers be smoothed, and by whom? And when will Miss Farrell show up with a boiling bunny?
And one smaller note: Sal's fabulous film auteur outfit was absolute perfection.
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