4 Years of College 4 Years of Television

I've said it before, television has had a profound impact on my life. And these college years have certainly not been different.


For some reason, every semester of my college experience seems clearly represented by one tv show tied closely to friends.
Freshman year, Fall 2005
Veronica Mars
It's all been said before, so I'll be brief. This show was instrumental in making friends who would, for better or for worse, change my life. I am in debt to Kristen Bell and Rob Thomas for this wonderful show.

Freshman year, Spring 2006
House
Much like what VM did for me in the Fall, House did for me in the Spring. Memories of 3N are forever filled with masses huddled around the glow of a computer screen. Remember hanging out with people like Dana, Alex, and Devon?

Sophomore year, Fall 2006
The Office
A Benihana Christmas debuted during my very first (and very favorite) secret santa party. Classic memory.

Sophomore year, Spring 2007
Heroes
I came back from winter break in love with superheroes all over again.

Summer 2007
Six Feet Under
I spent a lot of time alone in 3N that summer. I often spent entire days laying in bed watching this funeral home drama. It was a little depressing.

Junior year, Fall 2007
The West Wing
I may always be a sportsnight diehard, but this is when I started watching the greatest fictional president in the history of america. I am a little embarrassed to admit that Kyle and I watched episodes in our respective apartments at the same time, talking via AIM.

Junior year, Spring 2008
LOST
I started this blog, based on my love-hate relationship with lost this semester. I also made a lasagna and downed a bottle belvedere with friends while we tried to watch an episode once, to less than completely attentive results. Fun nonetheless

Senior year, Fall 2008
How I Met Your Mother
I guess this blends deeply into summer 2008 but I have fallen for this show, NPH's charisma (and illusions!), and the dream of having friends to always hang out in a bar with.

Senior year, Spring 2008
Battlestar Galactica
Kyle's favorite show has recently swept all of us up in it's dark storyline and engaging characters. And octogons. DVD is the greatest thing to happen to tv junkies like me since the vcr.

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Castle

If you're one of the zillions of people that have made shows like Bones or The Mentalist a success, watch Castle. You'll like it, it's just like getting another hour of your favorite that week. And how can you not like Nathan Fillion? While you're at it, check out Life, another show I'd like to see succeed to such proportions.

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Where to go from here?

2009 is now upon us and so approaches both the return of some old favorites like 24 and Lost and the chance to see some new shows debut in the mid season.


Television, like so many media forms, is still learning how to best deal with the emerging power of the internet as it usurps older roles with its better availability, flexibility, and portability. Major networks are warming to the idea, making full episodes of popular series available to stream online, releasing 'webisodes' and other internet exclusive material. Hulu is filling a hole pretty nicely, legally, that was left behind by the powerful tv-links (I like to imagine that the aftermath of tv-links is what should have happened in the wake of Napster).

So with easier access to the back catalog of episodes than ever before, why are we seeing the decline of serial television? I mean, sure The Mentalist is an entertaining show, but not necessarily enough to warrant being the most watched program in America (a freshman series has not made that distinction since Desperate Housewives, 4 years ago). Break it down to the components, it's just another episodic crime drama (with a character that more or less was taken from USA's Psych, to boot). Whereas more 'cutting edge' shows like Fringe are premiering and struggling to stay afloat (don't think I didn't consider a pun there).

Could it be that so many of the more tech savvy have already abandoned broadcast viewing and instead simply search the internet for the next Dr. Horrible? Why are viewers drawn to more of the same self-contained hours of tv that they have watched in countless reincarnations?

There's a certain comfort in them. When shows like Lost and Heroes first emerged a few years ago, audiences were not used to getting drawn into a complete and complex world that took episodes to explore (or with shows like Grey's Anatomy, character relations). It was novel and exciting. But a few years later, we're still left with a bunch of questions and a multitude of poorly executed characters and gimmicks to keep building the suspense. A majority of people grew tired of waiting for answers. Episodic tv like The Mentalist (or Law and Order, CSI, Bones, etc) have the advantage of drawing the viewer in with a mystery (a murder, etc) but finding a conclusion by the hour's end, saving just enough time to give the characters a bit of background and development (usually). I know I like getting answers anyways.

Part of the problem was the Writer's Strike. It put a severe cramp in every show last season, many having a hard time to draw viewers back after the extended break. This is how, I believe, the American Gladiator reincarnation was able to survive. Despite the fact that it is horrible and does not capture the essence of the old series (which, admittedly, is due to the fact that it was a cheesy 80s/90s show, complete with goofy clothes, hair, and lighting).

Fringe was really a lost opportunity, some calling it the disappointment of the year. I watched the first 3 episodes before I gave up. And I don't usually stop watching bad series (I have seen all of Drive and Raines, if you can believe it). But even Joshua Jackson's charisma could not save what I found to be a sterile and emotionless Anna Torv, who I just could not connect with. John Noble serves as some humor I suppose but I felt made every scene just that much more awkward. Sorry, I don't know why I took the time out to bash Fringe...but looking back, I hate it. I think all the talk of 'The new X-Files' really just got my hopes up to have them fall to the ground.

The situation comedy though, seems to be regaining momentum, largely thanks (once again) to NBC's Thursday Night lineup (famous for powerhouse shows Friends and Seinfeld). My Name is Earl, The Office, and 30 Rock seem to be leading the way for a sit-com in single camera style without a laugh track. And it seems to be working. I am eager to see the 'Office spinoff' when it airs. Granted they are all way below in ratings when compared to shows like CSI but the critical reception has only been growing (of course, as Arrested Development is aware, the two don't go hand in hand). So maybe I'm just getting a little overzealous.

Anyways, shows making a debut: Dollhouse, Castle, Lie to Me, Trust Me, An Untitled Amy Poehler Project, and The Philanthropist amongst others.

Dollhouse, Joss Whedon's latest project seems intriguing and I am glad Eliza Dushku is taking the lead. But I suspect FOX, who has already given it a Friday Night airslot, will be quick with the axe unless it outperforms expectations. FOX does not have the record of being a nurturing network. I obviously have high hopes for it and will watch even if it's a big turd.

Same goes for Castle, Nathan Fillion's latest vehicle. I have not heard much of anything but I like Nathon Fillion gosh darn it. ABC has proven to be a little more lenient than FOX (RIP Drive), case in point Dirty Sexy Money, though finally canceled, had three seasons. And never heard anyone talk about it. Ever. I'm sad to see Pushing Daisies go as it is probably a show I would've picked up eventually but I guess too little too late.

Lie to Me seems like an obvious choice for a strong tv show, a formulaic police procederal, based around using the powers of observation to catch lies. Wow. Well, I guess what ain't broke don't fix, right? I'll probably check it out because I am sucker for these shows just like everyone else (case in point: The Mentalist).

The creative force behind the office, Greg Daniels, has been designing a new project, reminiscent of The Office, as a vehicle for Amy Poehler. Though there's a tight lip on details, I would not be surprised if it made a nice addition to Thursday Night's Comedy Done Right.

The Philanthropist seems to be off to a rocky start after NBC and Tom Fontana (Homicide, Oz) had a falling out. It's on my radar, but just barely. Without some good buzz, I doubt I'll bother.

And Trust Me, the only cable original program I am interested in (on TNT). It stars Tom Cavanagh and Eric McCormack as an ad agency team or something. I loved Ed (moreso than most people it seems) and find Tom Cavanagh charismatic so I'm willing to bite. The fact that Mad Men has been so genius may work for or against the show, I'll decide after it premieres.

The only other show I have even heard of is Finnegan, a detective drama starring Teri Polo. I have no idea when it's supposed to air but Teri Polo is amazing and I more than willing to watch this show. Even if it's a big turd.

As for returning stars 24 and Lost; well Lost and I have the love-hate relationship going strong and I hope rousing bar parties make the absurdity even better. And while I found 24 falling apart last season, the tv movie reminded me why I started watching in the first place: Jack Bauer blows a bunch of shit up and kills bad guys. So there's that.

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if you like crime procedurals and/or mystery of the week shows, I recommend CBS's The Mentalist, Tuesdays at 9pm.

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We Spent Warm Summer Days Wishing They Would Never End

I must admit it has been hard finding the motivation to post here. It’s not for a lack of ideas but rather a lack of nurturing. My ideas wilt on the proverbial vine before coming to fruition. It’s been easier to let future Ryan deal with things.

Fleeting passion also seemed shared with my coauthors, though I have not explicitly talked to them about it. Perhaps naïve enthusiasm was just finally overwhelmed by the reality of the project(s).

It’s not to say that I will abandon this endeavor; yet, it’s not exactly true that I promise to work harder at it. Rather, I, at least, need to retool and reapproach what I want out of this exercise. And who knows what my partners will (or will not) do as the fall season approaches.

That said, let’s look at the new shows strolling out this fall. Or maybe not. The endless promotion of shows My Own Worst Enemy, Kath and Kim, Raising the Bar, or 90210 has gotten more than a little annoying. Perhaps I’ll give Fringe the benefit of a viewing simply because my roommate seems quite set on watching Joshua Jackson again (and JJ Abrams can make good television).

Of course, looking back on things, I don’t typically get swept up in shows when they premiere. And I cannot remember the last time I had expectations of premieres from prebuzz. Typically, I have waited a few weeks (perhaps as long as the midseason break) and then catch up and get caught up in some new series. This is how I started watching Heroes, Studio 60, Life, Reaper, 30 Rock and Chuck amongst others. Other times, I start watching shows at the great urging of friends, like with Veronica Mars, The Office, House, or Lost. Or I just finally get around to watching beloved series way after the fact, like The West Wing, Six Feet Under, Arrested Development, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

So perhaps come Thanksgiving I’ll be raving about the genius of Steven Bochco or the wonderful adaptation of an Australian favorite. Time will tell. Until then, I don’t have much to say.

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Robbing the Cradle

In the tenth episode of Mad Men, "Long Weekend," everyone takes advantage of Memorial Day by making bad decisions: Sterling rides a twenty-year old like a horse (literally), Joan lets an old, ugly guy change her bedroom light bulb, and Don finds solace in Rachel Menken.


So I've obviously failed in my goal to recap all of the first season of Mad Men before the second season started (the first episode aired on July 27th, and the second aired yesterday, the 3rd). And I seriously considered just giving this project up for dead, since it's so time-consuming to write these recaps and there are few rewards. But then I decided that one of the rewards is being able to look at every minute of this brilliant show in great detail, and having that deeper understanding of the plot, characters, and its themes. And also, I really want to recap "Nixon vs. Kennedy," because that episode is incredible and hilarious, but if I do episode 12 I might was well do episodes 11 and 13. I probably won't do full recaps for season two, at least for the time being, but maybe in the future I'll go back and continue to hone my recapping skills. Anyway, on with the recap.

Mad Men episode 10
Previously on Mad Men: Joan and Sterling had a hot affair, Pete punched Ken for calling Peggy a “lobster,” everyone was talking about Kennedy, and Betty had issues about her dead mom.

Don comes down the stairs at the Draper home and learns, from Sally, that Grandpa and “Aunt Gloria” are there. In the kitchen, Betty is getting the luggage together for the family, sans Don, to go to Cape May, and trying to convince her father not to eat so much sugar. Don enters and greets his father-in-law and his new girlfriend. The two (Gene and Gloria) joke about how she lives to serve, and Betty is obviously very unpleased. She drags Don away to help with a suitcase, aka, to bitch. Upstairs, she says it’s unseemly how fast her father found someone new: “Was she waiting at the funeral, unbuttoning her top button like some Sadie Hawkin’s dance?” Heh, I like Betty when she’s bitchy. Don says that she seems nice, but Betty’s convinced she’s a “vulture. Her husband was a failure. When he died they found out he cheated on his income taxes. And her kids! Louise never married, two more years and she’ll be hanging out at funerals too!” Betty is indignant and judgey, a vast improvement from when she’s weak and passive. Don points out that her dad was married for 40 years, and is basically incapable of taking care of himself, and even if he got a housekeeper, she’d go home at night. Betty doesn’t want to hear about her dad’s sexual needs, but Don tries to convince her to relax and enjoy the weekend away. Betty asks Don to come with them today, instead of joining them tomorrow, but he insists he has to go to work.

At Sterling Cooper, the men are in the conference room watching an ad for Kennedy. They both make fun of and admire its catchy jingle and slick production. Harry says that “it’s catchy like it gets in your head and makes you want to blow your brains out.” Pete adds, “President as a product. Don’t forget that.” Next, they watch an ad from Nixon that features him sitting on a desk and talking in monotone about taxes. Paul jokes that they should give Nixon a jingle that goes, “Ethel, go get the icepick. That Nixon guy is on TV again.” Catchy! Sterling enters, and Pete wonders what sort of dirt they have on JFK. Sterling says that he’s a womanizer, but it doesn’t really matter. They all agree that they never should have been this close in the polls. Don says, “Why do we need to attack when there’s a story to tell?” He describes Kennedy as a spoiled rich boy, while “Nixon is from nothing. Self-made man, Abe Lincoln of California, who was vice president six years after getting out of the Navy. Kennedy, I see a silver spoon. Nixon, I see myself.” Presidential campaign as narrative is a good tactic, but Sterling goes back to talking about mud-slinging. He wants to make an ad that “aims a Howitzer at Kennedy’s balls.” I’d like to aim my Howitzer at Kennedy’s balls. Sterling says he wants to hear ideas after the long weekend. Pete says, “I agree. Let’s go down swinging.” Both Don and Sterling look annoyed at Pete’s need to have the last word, and Sterling changes the topic to Menken’s. Rachel and her father, Abe, are coming in this morning, and Sterling wants Don to “go in and ride bareback over Paul here.” It would be way too easy to make a dirty joke here; I want to keep things classy, like my Howitzer joke. As everyone leaves, Sterling leans in and tells Don to be on his best behavior, because he knows how Rachel bothers him. Don’s look says, “Yeah… not exactly.”

Sterling walks out of the conference room and over to Joan, and asks for a word. As they walk, he spouts vague business-y phrases while she remains silent. His shtick is obviously getting old, and she purposely leaves his office door open. Sterling tells her that his family is out of town for the weekend, along with everyone his wife knows, so the two of them can go anywhere they want without fear of people seeing. Joan suggests seeing “The Apartment” (did they already screen that in Bryant Park? I know it’s part of their summer movie series), but Sterling already saw it. He wasn’t impressed: “A white elevator operator? And a girl at that. I want to work at that place.” Joan humorlessly replies, “Oh, I bet you do. The way those men treated that poor girl, handing her around like a tray of canapés. She tried to commit suicide.” Sterling surmises that she’s seen it, and tells her that movies are crude, and that’s not how it is with them. He charms her into a smile by telling a story about his wife, who was once mad at him for a whole day after dreaming that he hit the dog with his car. “We don’t even have a dog!” he finishes. She says that she’ll call him later, but it’s pretty obvious she’s not going to follow through.

Paul is presenting his remodeling plans to the Menkens, which include a restaurant on the ground floor. Abe is unhappy to give up so much retail space, and to close his store during renovations. Don assures him that they’ll be building anticipation during that time, like a movie premiere. Abe tells Don, “My daughter’s presence here should tell you that I’m not against change,” but he doesn’t understand why he can’t just build on what he already has. Don tells him bluntly, “You don’t have anything. Your customer’s can’t be depended on anymore.” As they’ve gotten richer, they’ve developed new tastes: “They’re like your daughter.” Rachel, by the way, looks ridiculously fierce in her chignon and multi-strand pearl necklace. Don continues that Rachel and his customers are “educated, sophisticated. They know full well what they deserve, and they’re willing to pay for it.” Rachel has this look on her face like, “Dammit, Don Draper, why must you make it so hard for me to resist screwing you right here on this conference table? In front of my father?”

Abe wants to know why he would want to run a store he wouldn’t want to shop in, and Don brings up the original Menken’s, a hosiery store on Seventh Avenue (yuck). “And that’s a story you’ll be proud to tell your grandchildren, there’s only one problem: They won’t care. As much as Grandpa likes that marble palace, I can promise you, they won’t. They’ll look at it and they’ll say, ‘Grandpa, it must have been hard, back in the olden days.” Abe laughs that it was hard, and Rachel interrupts that this isn’t some cute story, but her father’s life work. “My father started with nothing, and he made it into everything we’re talking about. Who here can say that?” Don apologizes for any disrespect, and Abe says it’s fine. He agrees with Rachel, “It does seem very well thought out.” “It is,” Pete says. Everyone exchanges, “Why is he so useless?” looks. The Menkens get up to leave, and Don comments to Rachel that he thinks Abe likes him. Rachel says, “I guarantee you, there is nothing about you he likes.” “What about you?” Don asks, and the seduction in his voice is practically palpable. She doesn’t respond, and heads with her father to the elevators. As they leave, Abe comments that Sterling Cooper reminds him of a “Tsarist ministry: no matter what the decision, you don’t feel it was yours.” He comments on Don, who is “a little dashing” for Abe’s taste.

Joan is in the break room when her roommate, Carol, comes rushing in. Joan leans in and says, “Don’t tell me you’re late again. Do you need to see Doctor Emerson?” I can totally imagine a Joan and Carol spin-off called “Sex and the Sixties,” with lots of back-alley abortions and sugar daddies. Carol says no, it’s about her crappy job reading the “slush pile” – unsolicited manuscripts—at a publishing company. She got fired after covering for her boss, and now she’ll have to ask her dad “for more money, again.” Joan gets her feminism on: “These men. We’re constantly building them up, and for what? Dinner? Jewelry? Who cares? We need to go out and shake all this gloominess.” Aw, Joan’s a pretty good friend. She suggest they go and find some men to spend money on them (um, wasn’t that what she was just railing against?). Carol says that she hates Manhattan sometimes, and Joan sounds wounded as she tells Carol not to say that: “This city is everything.”

Don is working in his office when Pete enters, with the bad news that they lost the Dr. Scholl’s account. Pete says they were unhappy with the creative, which could not possibly be worse than the “Are you gelling? I’m gelling like Magellen” ads from a few years ago. It was the first account Pete’s ever lost, and there was nothing he could do to change their minds. Don tells him, “The day you sign a client is the day you start losing them.” Not much of a pep talk. Pete wonders if he should tell Sterling, and Don says that he’ll do it. As soon as Pete walks out, Don shows his anger by knocking half of his office supplies off his desk. Drama queen! Peggy comes in, wondering what happened, and goes to clean up Don’s mess. He tells her to leave it, and asks if she wears Dr. Scholl’s inserts. “I thought we all had to,” she says. I love the idea that someone is waiting by the elevator to check every employee’s shoes for insoles in the morning. Don tells her to take them out, and then he rips a file folder in half and tells her to trash it. Don Draper: so manly he can rip a folder full of paper without rumpling his shirt!

Don visits Sterling’s office to deliver the bad news. Sterling is getting a haircut. In his office. I am so jealous. Don adds, “Campbell enjoyed telling me it was something to do with creative.” The barber trims Sterling’s nose hair (sexy!) as Don says that sales were steady, so he wasn’t the one who dropped the ball. Sterling repeats Don’s line to Pete, about starting to lose a client the day you sign them. Don asks, “You don’t really believe that?” Sterling compares a client relationship to marriage: “Sometimes you get into it for the wrong reasons and eventually they hit you in the face.” Sterling brushes off the business talk for vacation talk: “Between now and Monday we have to fall in love half a dozen times.” Don claims he has to go meet Betty at the shore tomorrow, and Don insists that they work so hard so they afford to send their families to great weekend homes and “live it up here.” I bet Sterling makes the “Take my wife. No, really, please take my wife!” joke a lot. He tells Don, “Give me tonight. You owe me that. I can use you as bait.” Aw, Sterling loves his wingman so dearly. He suggests they go down to a casting call for double-sided aluminum, because there’ll probably be twins to hit on. Sterling says, “Remember Don, when God closes a door, he opens a dress.”

Pete’s strolling through the office and falls in step with Peggy. She’s ready to ignore him, but he asks about the folder she’s carrying—it’s stuff for the Belle Jolie campaign. Pete grabs her arm, unhappy with the amount of attention she’s paying to his lame single entendres. Peggy tells him, “If you want to see the proofs, you’ll have to check with Mr. Cosgrove. It’s his account.” Pete thinks it’s funny how formal Peggy is, and asks if Don talked to Sterling yet. “You’ll have to ask him,” she replies, obviously having learned something from the days she let Pete steal research out of Don’s trashcan. Peggy goes to leave again, and Pete asks what’s wrong with her. “Excuse me? I’m just trying to do my job and you’re making it very difficult.” Peggy is being so mature that Pete feels compelled to talk to her like a three-year-old: “Peggy dear, I think I understand what this is about. But you’re not being professional right now.” Peggy’s face says, “I cannot believe I slept with you. Twice,” and her mouth says, “I cannot believe I am in this conversation.” Pete hotly says, “You think this is easy for me,” and Peggy replies that she has no idea. “I don’t know if you like me, or if you don’t like me. I’m just trying to get along here. And every time I walk by, I wonder, are you going to be nice to me? Or cruel?” Pete’s already gotten a leg up on his high horse, and reminds her that he’s married. Peggy says she knows, and he told her how confusing that can be. “Maybe you need me to lie on your couch to clear that up for you again.” Oh, snap! Pete, as usual, goes as low as possible: “That’s some imagination you got. Good thing you’re a writer now. What do you need me for?” Man, Joan would never put up with Pete’s crap like this.

Outside the casting department, there’s five or six sets of sisters (I expected identical twins, but each woman look noticeably different from her pair). Salvatore raves over one woman’s bone structure, and Ken tells another that he once saw a cow give birth to two calves that were attached at the back, and after they were cut apart they always wanted to be together. “Is that what happened to you two?” Ken thinks he’s being so smooth, but… not so much. Paul asks another whether she likes Ukrainian food—the same thing he asked Peggy in the second episode. I guess he only has one line, which I somehow doubt is very effective. Sterling and Don enter and send the Mad Boys back to work. Sterling looks at the women like he’s shopping for the best apples. He picks probably the youngest, yet also least attractive sisters, and says that he’s using his authority to send all the other girls home. He convinces Eleanor and Mirabelle to come upstairs for a celebratory drink, and they accept.

Sterling and Mirabelle have cozied up quickly, while Don is trying not to encourage Eleanor. Don asks Mirabelle about her hobbies, and she says that she’s a horseback rider. Sterling admires her skin and asks if he can touch it, because he’s a creepy old man. He strokes her leg, and says, “You gotta feel this.” He clarifies that he’s talking to Eleanor, and she comes and sits on the other side of Sterling. Then he turns the Creep-o-Meter up to full capacity and starts prodding her to give her sister a kiss. Don looks disgusted, and the girls look uncomfortable. Mirabelle sadly wonders why everyone always wants them to do that. Don tries to excuse himself, but the girls aren’t interested in staying with just Sterling. Getting the fact that he won’t be engaging in a threesome, Sterling orders everyone to stay. Eleanor asks Don to dance to the soft record that’s playing, and he reluctantly agrees.

Elsewhere, Joan and Carol and primping for their night out. Joan’s unhappy with her look, and says, “What a rut. 1960, I am so over you.” Carol goes to zip up Joan’s dress, and leans in to smell Joan’s neck. Joan tells her not to get depressed, because tears will ruin her makeup. Carol laughs that she’s happy right now, because she loves spending time with Joan. She gets serious, and really awkward, and says, “Joan. I love you.” Joan busies herself with her lipstick, and Carol launches into a monologue about how she’s been obsessed with Joan since the first week of college, then followed her to New York. “You needed a roommate, I moved in. Just to be near you. I did everything I could to be near you. All with the hope that one day, you would notice me.” Carol is so sad, and yet, she’s almost so pathetic that I don’t feel as sorry for her as I do for our other closeted sadsack, Salvatore. I mean, if Carol missed her chance to push Joan into a lesbianism experimentation phase during college, she should be smart enough to give up at this point. Carol leans in to Joan and says, “Just think of me as a boy.” Joan is speechless for a few long minutes, then tells Carol that she’s had a hard day, and they need to go out now so she can forget about it. For a second, Carol looks like she’s going to protest Joan’s abrupt shutdown of Carol’s romantic overtures, but then agrees to go out.

Back at the office, Eleanor has her legs strewn over Don’s lap, but he’s very carefully not touching her. Sterling and Mirabelle are laughing in the other room, possibly braiding each other’s hair or having tea with their stuffed animals. Eleanor leans in for a totally passionless kiss with Don, then pulls back and brightly asks if he has any gum. He does not, robbing him of the chance to make many Doublemint jokes. He tries to excuse himself again, and out comes Sterling, riding on poor Mirabelle’s back like a horse. Creepy! Not sexy! Don and Eleanor look rather unimpressed, and head out towards the elevator. Don offers to call her a car, but she insists on waiting for her sister. She says that she’s been around the block a few times, but Mirabelle hasn’t. “Now all you’re thinking about is going around the block, huh?” she says. “I don’t think I could even get out of the driveway,” he laughs. She seriously asks him again to wait with her.

Sterling is lying on Mirabelle’s lap, stroking her bare legs (she lost her dress somewhere during the night). She giggles, and Sterling says he hasn’t heard his daughter, Margaret, laugh since she was seven. He asks Mirabelle why Margaret is so angry, and Mirabelle soothingly tells him not to be sad. He looks up at her and obsesses over her skin again. “I want to eat it. I want to suck your blood like Dracula.” If Mirabelle had been around the block a few more times, she might have enough sense to run. Instead, she leans over to kiss him.

Joan and Carol are returning from their night out, with two men in tow. These guys are, to be blunt, not cute. They’re old, but not silver foxes like Slattery. They’re sort of chubby and pretty nebbish, like unsuccessful encyclopedia salesmen. Joan can obviously do better—maybe the casting is trying to suggest that she lowered her standards in order to find a man with a friend for Carol. Joan asks Franklin, the older of the two, about his interest in language. He says it’s a hobby, and the other guy adds that his hobby is carpentry, and he’s building a dry sink. Joan rightly ignores this, and says that she loves language. Franklin tells a story about the Polish janitor at his office who described his bride as “not speaking real good English,” and they all laugh. Joan seductively asks Franklin to come help her change the light bulb in her room. Real subtle. The pair go into her room and shut the door. Carol is left alone with the other one, who immediately jumps on her face. She stops him, but then says, “Whatever you want.” Sad, sad.

Don is still at the office, and admits to Eleanor that he’s married. She says that he kisses like a married man, “your own way, no talking you out of it.” She assures him that’s a good thing, and then says that she’ll do whatever he tells her to. Don nicely tells her, “Maybe it’s this office, but you’re selling too hard.” From the other room, Mirabelle calls for help. As Don walks up, she says, “Something’s wrong. I knew I shouldn’t have asked him to do it a second time.” Sterling is on the floor, clutching his chest, obviously having a heart attack. Don tells the girls to call an ambulance and then leave. Later, the paramedics are wheeling out Sterling, who is woozily calling for Mirabelle. Don stops the gurney, and firmly slaps Sterling across the face. “Mona. Your wife’s name is Mona,” he says, very gruff and serious.

At the hospital, Don checks on Sterling, who’s looking extremely grey in his hospital bed. He says, “All these years, I thought it would be the ulcer. I did everything they told me to: drank the cream, ate the butter. I get hit with a coronary.” Don tells him it’s good that he’s talking, but Sterling doesn’t want to be reassured. He asks Don if he believes in energy, like a soul. Don asks, “What do you want to hear?” Sterling says that he’s been living the last twenty years like he’s been on shore leave, and “What the hell is that about?” Don reassures him that it’s living, but Sterling is fully into his crisis of conscience. Mona enters, and Sterling begins crying about how much he loves her. And he looks so weak, and sad, that you almost forget how he was molesting a twenty year old an hour ago. Mona says that Margaret is outside, and he needs to pull it together for her. Margaret comes in and hugs her dad, and there are tears all around. Don watches from the doorway, deep in thought.

Joan and Franklin enter the abandoned Sterling Cooper offices that same night, and find Cooper sitting alone in the dark. He called her so they could send telegrams to their clients, assuring them that business will continue despite Sterling’s heart attack. He dictates addresses as she types, trying not to cry.

Don calls Betty from a hospital pay phone. He tells her about Sterling, and that he won’t be able to come tomorrow. Betty says she wishes she could come home, and she can’t stand watching her dad treat Gloria like he treated her mother. She starts waxing philosophical about life moving on, and he tells her to stop thinking about that. She tells him to remember to eat something, and they hang up.

Pete has come to the hospital (who called him?), and Don tells him that they don’t really know how Sterling is. They hear the TV from the other room, and move to watch a commercial claiming that Nixon didn’t make any mjajor decisions as vice president. Yay, mud-slinging!

Don leaves, and Sterling’s brush with death and recommitment to his family inspires our hero to go to Rachel Menken’s. She says she got the telegram, and asks if Don’s ok. He invites himself in and asks for a drink, looking all sorts of disheveled. They talk about Sterling, and Don goes in to kiss her. She asks him if he thinks this is a solar eclipse, end of the world, do whatever you want sort of situation, and tells him to go to sleep. He sits down, and asks her to sit next to him. She has on this hugely voluminous teal robe, with some sort of sheer cape on the back. Gorgeous, needless to say. Don says, “I don’t like feeling like this,” and she assures him that no one does. Don tells her about the first time he was a pallbearer, when he was fifteen and his aunt died. He felt shocked at how close they let him get to the box, how they weren’t hiding death from him, and he saw the old people and thought, “I just moved up a notch.” She asks what he wants from her, and he says, “You know. I know you do. You know everything about me.” She protests that she doesn’t, but Don kisses her. She stops him and tells him to go to his wife, but Don won’t have it. “Jesus, Rachel, this is it. This is all there is and I feel like it’s slipping through my fingers like a handful of sand. This is it. This is all this is.” Rachel is desperately holding onto her morals, and tells Don that he’s just making excuses for bad behavior. He kisses her again, and she gives in. He lies her down on the couch, but stops and says, “No—unless you tell me you want this.” “Yes, please,” she says. And finally, after ten episodes, Rachel and Don get it on.

Back at the office, Cooper is walking Joan to the elevator and tells her, “Not that it’s any of my business, but you could do a lot better.” She thinks he’s talking about Franklin, but Cooper knows about her and Sterling. He advises her not to waste her youth on age, and Joan tries to maintain her calm face. As they get in the elevator, Cooper asks her to press the lobby button. I’m sure there’s a lot of great parallels I could make if I’d seen The Apartment, but alas.

Don and Rachel are post-coital, still on her white couch. Don decides it’s time to add another installment in the Don Draper Mystery Story Hour. He tells her that his mother died in childbirth, like Rachel’s did. “She was a prostitute. I don’t know if my father paid her, but when she died, they brought me to him and his wife. And when I was ten years old, he died. He was a drunk who got kicked in the face by a horse. She buried him and took up with some other man, and I was raised by those two sorry people.” She gently kisses him on the head.

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This gonna be LEGEN...wait for it...

...hope you're not lactose intolerant because the next word is...

DARY!

So I started watching CBS’s How I Met Your Mother recently, upon the advice of my roommate. After a marathon venture to clear through season 1 in one nice 9 hour sitting and follow up with the next two seasons in the rest of the week, I can say with certainty that I am a fan.

Clearly, HIMYM’s strongest point is Neil Patrick Harris’s Barney Stinson. I’m not sure if Barney gets the best lines because he is awesome or if Barney is awesome because he gets the best lines but it doesn’t really matter. It’s rare on television today to use catch phrases, and Barney executes so effectively. As Ted points out, Barney’s role in this show is not to get it where it’s going but to always leave it with an awesome story.

How can you not love Marshall and Lily, not only are they an amazingly cute couple but Jason Segel is hilarious and Alyson Hannigan is charming (I don’t find her voice annoying, in opposing opinion of a close friend of mine). Their

And at first I wasn’t a big fan of Ted but after a while he won me over. In all honesty, he’s a really good friend to everybody. If my life were more exciting, I could see myself aspiring to be more like Ted. You know, if I were also like five years older.

I wouldn’t have said this when I first started watching but I think the weak leak is Robin. Normally, I don’t shy away from the attractive female love interest of the show but whenever her plotlines rely solely on the strength of her character, I find it sags a bit. She’s a strong supporting role though, and I don’t think anyone can take away her former Canadian teen idol days away from her.

Strangely, HIMYM has an amazing soundtrack. I’ve heard Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Death Cab for Cutie, The Decemberists, and more great music. Plus all of the songs Marshall sings when he’s doing whatever.

But why do I find HIMYM so appealing? Part of it is because I love watching telelvision. Part of it is because I wish, once again, my life would start to resemble something like it. Part of it is because I’m kind of a sucker for these shows. And the writing doesn’t hurt either.

So in conclusion, How I Met Your Mother is pretty good. It makes me want to hang out in the bar downstairs, play laser tag, and wear suits all the time. True Story.

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