Mad Men: When in Rome, Or While the Wife's Away

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. –Leo Tolstoy.

In this week’s “Mad Men,” we had mostly sad men—and women.
First the good news: Joan Holloway is still on the show. The bad news is that she’s working in retail. She runs into Pete Campbell, who is returning a dress at Bonwit Teller. Efficient as always, Joan takes care of Pete’s problem, unlike the other shop girls. And when he asks, she says she’s fine, but you could see the sadness she’s no longer at Sterling Cooper.
Pete, seen earlier reading Ebony, was at Bonwit’s because his wife was out of town summer vacationing, and while Trudy’s away . . .
But poor Pete can’t manage to have a simple affair. His season one hookup with Peggy Olson resulted in a baby. Now he tries to ingratiate himself with a neighbor’s au pair by getting a stained dress exchanged. She’s grateful but she has a boyfriend. Nevertheless, Pete forces himself on her.
Soon the neighbor stops by with some sensible advice: “There are plenty of nannies in this neighborhood. Be smart and stay out of this building. Enjoy the rest of your summer.”
When Trudy comes home she tries to, uh, reacquaint herself with her husband, but he pulls back.  She can tell from Pete’s guilty expression that something’s up. Especially when she, Pete, the au pair and the kids she’s watching wind up uncomfortably in an elevator together.
“You always get a guilty look when you’re around little children,” she says, blaming herself. Then she figures it his fault, not hers.
Later, at the beginning of a frosty dinner, he tells his wife, “I don’t want you to go away without me any more.” She replies “Good. I won’t,” and he goes on to tell her about his latest bit of office mischief.
Meanwhile at the Drapers, Betty beholds the power of her new friend, Henry Francis, who arrives at the city council meeting bearing a letter from the governor that stalls the water tower she and the Junior League have been campaigning against.
After the meeting, he moves in for his quid pro quo from Betty. Betty resists, he kisses her anyway.
It doesn’t sit well with Betty. When Don comes home, she tells him about her temporary victory at City Hall. They embrace awkwardly. She asks Don to take her to Rome, where he’s heading to check out Conrad Hilton’s hotel there. Ah the good old days: Don says they’ll simply buy an extra ticket at the airport.
They arrive in Rome, where the smell is bad but the American dollar is still good.
Betty makes herself a beauty appointment and emerges looking like Grace Kelley.
She stops for drinks at the hotel’s café and two Italian men compete to pick her up with classy lines like “if I was that cigarette in your mouth, I would die of happiness.”
Don sits at the next table shows he knows how to seduce women while on the road. He’s heckled by the locals, who call him old and ugly in Italian.
“Do you think I’m ugly,” he asks. “Do you think because of the way I’m dressed I’m shallow,” she replies. “I was hoping you were easy,” says Don, closing the deal.
Connie shows up, and is introduced to Betty. “By golly, you are an indecently lucky man,” But Betty knows he’s even more impressed with Don himself.
Back in their hotel room, she observes: “By golly, he’s nutty. He adores you.”
Both of their passions are stirred. Don kisses her neck, her ears and pulls down her dress. She melts into the bed.
But things cool when they get back home. Betty learns that Sally’s been smooching with little Ernie Hanson—Betty’s “friend” in a prior season–and beating up her brother.
First she makes Sally apologize to Bobby. Then she sits her on the couch for a rare mother-daughter talk.
“You don’t kiss boys. Boys kiss you,” she explains. And the first kiss is special. You go from being strangers to knowing someone.
“You’re going to have a lot of first kisses,” she says knowingly. And more tragically, “you’re going to want it to be special. Every kiss after is a shadow of that first kiss.”
With that in mind, Betty pulls back from her Junior League work, and from her friend Francine Hanson, who has been smirking about Betty’s budding relationship with Mr. Francis, the governor’s aide.
When Don comes home, Betty snaps.
“I hate this place, I had our friends, I hate this town,” she tells Don.
Don has a gift for her: a charm of the Coliseum. “I’ll have it put on your bracelet,” he says.
That’s not nearly enough for Betty, who ruefully comments, “I’ll have something to look at when I tell the story about going to Rome.”
So there you have it: the unhappy Drapers, the prototypical nuclear family for the nuclear age and The Campbells, unburdened but unhappy as well.
No wonder everyone drinks so much.