[Production notes: How great was this episode? Feels like an instant all-timer, right up there with the suitcase, the tractor, and the Season 5 DVD outtakes of the makeup department entombing January Jones in the Fat Betty suit. Amazing. We should probably just quit right here. But we're not going to, because letting you down is an important part of our journey together. So as they say: Here goes nothing.
"Everyone would love to walk into a room and pick the biggest sandwich and take the best chair and have sex with the best-looking women." —Matthew Weiner discussing his time on The Sopranos and perhaps revealing some of the motives of the characters on Mad Men.
Vital Stats: Tall, dark, handsome, morally conflicted but ultimately corrupt, stewardess/teacher/Jewish department-store heiress/beatnik/secretary and occasionally wife-banging creative director and partner at SCDP. Infuriatingly self-centered, with destructive taste in adult pastimes. Had a bad childhood, to put it mildly. Formerly known as Dick Whitman, he adopted the "Don Draper" identity after the war, taking on his dead trench-mate's identity and building himself a brand-new life with the blessing of the real Don's widow, Anna Draper, whom he then financially supported until her death. Night-schooled, he was a car salesman and a fur-coat salesman before getting into advertising, weaseling into Sterling-Cooper by getting Roger Sterling drunk and convincing him he'd hired Don. Married model Betty Hofstadt — who became Betty Draper and had three of his kids — then cheated on and lied to her until she got fed up enough to leave him for elder gent Henry Francis. Thinks with his gut, which is located in his crotch. Dominates almost all situations to the extreme, for better and worse. Likes getting slapped in the face, slapping others in the face. Spent Season 4 learning that he was far from infallible. Either a genius or a great liar or both.