Kennedy's dead, and I don't feel so good myself: Mad Men ep 12

WHOOPS! SPOILER IN TITLE. But fuck, if you didn't see this coming, maybe you didn't realize that Sam and Diane were going to get together on "Cheers" and you deserve whatever ugliness life has in store for you.

You know a show has got your attention when the Kennedy assassination is only the SECOND biggest thing that's happened this season. I thought they handled it perfectly. We first find out when Pete is talking to the TV Guy with Glasses Whose Name Escapes Me and BAM it's going on in the background and they don't even notice it. But the coolest scene in the whole show was Don standing in the office and all the phones are going off because everyone's gathered around the TV and Don's all "WTF? Is it Celebrity Jeopardy again?"

Incidentally, I guess the Aqua Net ad with the 4 people in the convertible and one of them with her hair blown backwards isn't going to fly any more.

Peggy, you are a dirty, dirty girl! Sneaking around with Duck this whole time. Even her rommate (who I thought got the racquet for a while) is all "Hey hobag, how's about you and Gramps take your action back to the Old Folks Home instead of over here because his English Leather is starting to bug me." Anyway, Pegs sets up a nooner with the Oldster (incidentally, Duck is so smooth - "Come on, creative. Be creative.") and she goes over to his hotel room and he's unplugging the TV and basically like whistling and going "Nothing to see here!" Time for another go around. Ew.

Time for Roger's daughter's wedding. WHOOPS, SHOULD HAVE PLANNED THAT FOR A DIFFERENT DAY, like after one of the days when Kennedy didn't get shot. No biggie, though - we can have the prime rib AND the filet of sole! Sweet. Jane's going to help out and drink all the extra wine. Oh, Jane.

Isn't it good to see Roger get so much screen time? He gives a kickass speech, then carries Spring Break Jane into the bedroom and tosses her on the bed and who does he call? JOANIE, THAT'S RIGHT. He's all "What's up?" and she's all "LOL U R MARRIED. Oh, hang on, this motherfucker's waking up again and I'm almost out of vases." But you know those two are going to start fooling around again and THANK GOD I say because they were awesome.

Everybody is talking Don and Betty to death and I don't have a lot to add except blah blah blah I'm kind of sick of the whole thing and I sort of wanted something punchier after the Big Reveal last week. Like, she should totally blackmail him or something! I would be like "So, Dick - oops, I mean Don" ALL THE TIME just to bug him. ANYWAY, Bets and that old guy (TANGENT - I just realized that maybe I love this show because old guys are always getting the young hotties [EMBEDDED TANGENT - Maybe Peggy isn't that hot but still]) Henry have a little meet and greet and he's trying to get her to leave Don and come with him and she's not so sure which is a good thing because Henry's kind of a stiff and according to my female advisors, any sane woman would be rubbing herself on Jon Hamm like a panda on a tree.

Normal woman and Jon Hamm (dramatization)

ANYWAY, this week is the season finale, guys! WTF?! Didn't it just start? Then we have to wait like 2 months for Lost and Friday Night Lights. Our God is a cruel God.

Please pardon this interruption in our service

We hope to resume normal programming soon.

I know all y'alls want your Mad Men update (well, except for that commenter on Eye on Blogs who said my update "sucked" - you, Sir, may get your updates elsewhere) but I'm stuck in this interminably boring work thing in Long Beach and don't have time right now. I'll give you the Cliffs Notes:

1. Kennedy got shot
2. Roger's daughter's wedding sucked.

Sorry. I'm really sorry.

The good kind of mystery meat

In San Francisco we're all interested in food and wine and we're always going on and on about farmer's markets and pinot noir and heirloom tomatoes and sustainably raised beef and so an event like the Mystery Dinner at Maverick is the perfect way to let us all show off and put us in our place at the same time.

The idea behind the Mystery Dinner (held on Halloween night, natch) is that you get 3 courses with wine pairings and you have to guess as many elements of each course as you can, along with the kind of wine. Sounds simple, right? Wrong.

(Before I go on, let me just throw in a little plug here for Maverick, a place we've been many times and which is truly one of the great, maybe a little underrated, restaurants in SF).

So you wanna know how badly I did? Bad. Let's review.

First course: Some kind of salad with a poached egg on top and some kind of greens and some other stuff.

What I guessed: Poached egg (duh), raddichio (total guess - I'm not even sure what raddichio is), rye croutons, and plantain.

What it actually was: Poached egg (yay!), rye croutons (yay!), red stem spinach, Maverick pancetta, roasted apples, apple cider vinagrette. There was pancetta in there? I didn't see any pancetta. And how do you mistake apple for plantain? I'm an idiot.

Wine guess: Sauvignon blanc.
Actual wine: Sauvignon blanc. I know my sauvignon blanc.

Second course: It was grilled fish.

What I guessed: My first thought was something like swordfish or tuna, but it wasn't tuna and didn't seem firm enough to be swordfish. So I guess grilled halibut, on risotto, with sprouts, and chili sauce.

What it actually was: Grilled swordfish. Damn! With shaved brussels sprouts (half-credit), crispy chanterelles (?), and sweet and sour sauce. It was delicious. They gave me credit for the sauce, which was nice.

Wine guess: Unoaked chardonnay.
Actual wine: Grenache blanc. Oh, sure, like I had a chance of getting that. I didn't even know there was such a thing as grenache blanc until last night. It was good, though!

Dessert course: Some kind of custardy thing.

What I guessed: Mint panna cotta, with candied walnuts and red currants.

What it actually was: Meyer lemon panna cotta, with candied walnuts and huckleberry compote. I SWEAR TO GOD it tasted minty.

Wine guess: Gewurtztraminer. It was really sweet, what do I know.
Actual wine: Pinot blanc. Again, I had an approximately zero percent chance of getting this.

In the end, The Sister and her bf tied and there was tiebreaker and I think he won. The winner at every table got a bottle of wine! That's nice. Anyway, tons o' fun.

Then we went home and watched TV and went to bed. I don't feel the Halloween thing so much any more, plus I was up til about 4:30 a.m. on Friday night about which less said the better.

ANYWAY, I'm off to beautiful exciting downtown Long Beach tomorrow for work. So we'll see what they're up to down there. Later.

Other people San Francisco is a Sanctuary City for

1. Grown men with long, long ponytails
2. Damaged girls with Livejournals
3. Guys who collect vinyl
4. People from Iowa who pronounce Spanish words with a pronounced Spanish accent
5. Drunks
6. Ultimate frisbee players
7. 23-year-olds who wear sweatshirts with Greek letters on them unironically
8. Frank Chu
9. Dog owners who are obsessed with their dogs and treat their dogs like children and have birthday parties for them and stuff
10. Barista/artists
11. Waiter/punk band members
12. Administrative assistant/dominatrices
13. Pigeons. Pigeon feeders.
14. Bros with yellow labs named either “Marley” or “Kaya”
15. DJs (still)
16. Wine snobs
17. Beer snobs
18. Marijuana snobs
19. MST3K snobs
20. Illegal immigrants (Irish)

Andre Agassi, tweaker

Holy shit! In his new bio, Andre Agassi talks about how he used to use crystal meth. Check this shit out! ("Slim" is one of his assistants):

"Slim is stressed too ... He says, You want to get high with me? On what? Gack. What the hell's gack? Crystal meth. Why do they call it gack? Because that's the sound you make when you're high ... Make you feel like Superman, dude.

"As if they're coming out of someone else's mouth, I hear these words: You know what? F*** it. Yeah. Let's get high.

"Slim dumps a small pile of powder on the coffee table. He cuts it, snorts it. He cuts it again. I snort some. I ease back on the couch and consider the Rubicon I've just crossed.

"There is a moment of regret, followed by vast sadness. Then comes a tidal wave of euphoria that sweeps away every negative thought in my head. I've never felt so alive, so hopeful - and I've never felt such energy.

"I'm seized by a desperate desire to clean. I go tearing around my house, cleaning it from top to bottom. I dust the furniture. I scour the tub. I make the beds."

Haha. The stars - they're just like you and me! If you've ever known anyone who was on the meth, you'll recognize the cleaning instinct right away. One friend of mine had a roommate who liked the meth, and he'd wake up and find his roomie vacuuming away at 4:30 a.m. I know another guy who rearranged all his several hundred CDs by color - so the shelves looked like a giant VIBGYOR (or Roy G. Biv, if that's your pref).

Anyway, I don't know why the Agassi thing seems so surprising. Maybe because you tend to think of professional athletes and entertainers and stuff liking coke more than meth. It just seems weird, right?

Whoa, Don, have another Canadian Club. Mad Men ep 11.

So it’s finally here. The Big Showdown. So now where do we go? I mean, now that’s all out in the open and Betts knows, or is starting to know, the details of the Big Secret, how do they sustain the dramatic tension?

But enough about that. Let’s talk about Roger! Roger, as it turns out, has a complicated back story that includes an expat life in Paris in the 30’s with Annabel, who still looks pretty good at 50 or whatever age she is now. She dumped Roger! Maybe that’s why he’s such an asshole now. I mean, I love the guy and he always has the best lines on the show, but he’s an asshole, right? Anyway, she wants to get into the Roger business again and he turns her down. How come, Rog? Don’t tell me he’s gotten a sudden attack of the Faithfuls. Some guys don’t like drunk chicks. That’s what I heard, anyway. From no one, ever.

Hey, remember when the Drapers had a dog? What happened to him? Did he get the racquet?[*] You know who’s about to get the racquet? The Rape Doctor! That’s right, he’s got VIETNAM WAR CASUALTY basically tattooed on his face. Oh, you’ll be a surgeon, all right. A SURGEON OF DEATH. That doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, then Joan will finally be able to get back together with Roger. He just has to get rid of Current Wife, whatever her name is.

Hey, did anybody else think the animal focus group was awesome? “Oh, he seems to like this food! Cute! Good puppy HOLY FUCK WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU FEEDING A PONY TO MY DOG?!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!” I think they need to change the name after all.

ANYWAY. Anyone think Miss Farrell is just going to go gently into that good night? No way. She’s not done by a long shot. And it’s a good thing none of this is taking place today or Don’s cellie would have been BLOWING UP after the first 10 minutes he left her sitting in the car. Just imagine him having The Confrontation and Betts is all “I want answers, Don,” and just then his “My Prerogative” ringtone goes off and he’s all “Oh, shit, I gotta take this, hang on.” Speaking of which, I hate cell phones but I love having the Internet on me all the time.

[*] “Get the racquet” = “to suddenly and mysteriously disappear from a show with no explanation or acknowledgement.” Back in college, a bunch of us used to get together after lunch every day and watch “All My Children.” There was this minor character who was staying with Tad and just hanging around and not doing much. One day, he went up to the attic to get a tennis racquet and NEVER CAME BACK. Ergo, “getting the racquet.” I like to imagine that his moldy corpse is still up there in the attic, slowly decomposing in the Pine Valley heat.

Internet advertising has become disturbingly weird

Check out what I had to look at whilst I was trying to read up on the Times Square teen who doesn't know who she is or some shit like that:

WTFF??? It looks like new ideas for Enhanced Interrogation Techniques. I can hear Cheney breathing hard and clicking away somewhere out there.

Is the chick at the bottom giving head to a robot or what's going on there? If the Trick to WHITE teeth is to get deep-throated by a glowstick on the end of a vacuum cleaner attachment, I'll stick with the way I am, thanks. And if you can vanish cellulite by grabbing your thighs and making little flesh ridges, we're all going to save a lot of money. The Secret Snoring Solution, meanwhile, is to put on a fake Abraham Lincoln beard and hit yourself in the head with your fist.