Can you believe there are only two episodes of Mad Men left this year? That’s insane, right? It feels like we’re just settling in. I mean, I know splitting the final season into two mini-seasons paid off spectacularly for Breaking Bad because viewers binge-watched on Netflix and it sent the ratings through the roof, but Mad Men is a different show, with a different pace, and the whole thing makes me want to find the AMC bean-counter responsible for the decision and smash a watermelon on his head. Totally unacceptable. All of it.
And speaking of smooth transitions and things that are unacceptable, where in the name of fashionable swim trunks is Bob Benson?! Yes, I know that technically the answers to that question are (a) in Detroit with the Chevy yahoos, and (b) on that show with Robin Williams and Sarah Michelle Gellar that just got canceled, but dammit, that’s besides the point. JUST MAKE IT HAPPEN. I don’t care how. I don’t even care if you have to film him in front of a green screen in Matthew Weiner’s garage and insert him into the finale via the crappiest CGI in the history of television. I’ll take whatever I can get.
How do you think he’s doing? Do you think the Chevy guys are treating him okay? I’ve got to believe he’s doing better up there than Ken Cosgrove did, partially because I feel like someone would have mentioned something if he got part of his face shot off due to gunplay-related tomfoolery (“Hey Lou, ya hear Benson got his eye shot out, too?” “Hmm. Maybe we should send Draper to Detroit”), but mostly because he’s such a smooth, ass-kissy operator. Hell, even if did get his eye shot out, I bet he’d be all “Oooo. Ow. That does smart. What? Oh, no. Not a problem. That’s why I got two of them. And besides, it was my fault for being in the way. Just careless of me. Here, let me make it up to you. These are two tickets to see Diana Ross. They’re yours. Take your wife. I was going to bring my … friend, but I want you to have them. Benson. Bob Benson” before having Manolo fly to Detroit and dump all of their mothers into the icy waters of Lake Erie. Maybe that’s what this weekend’s episode will be about.
Maybe he’ll hear about Ginsberg’s nipple-removing breakdown and take the train to New York to visit him at Bellevue to give him a pep talk. IT COULD WORK. Remember, he was the one who talked Ginsberg down before the big meeting with Manischewitz last season, which resulted in Ginsberg asking him if he was “a homo,” BUT WHATEVER. Give me a multi-episode arc this season or next about Bob Benson nursing Ginsberg back to health through the power of positivity and double-fisted coffees, like Patch Adams crossed with Tony Robbins crossed with a Ken doll. That would work just fine.
Just send him to California to frustrate Pete. I don’t care why. Make up a reason. Let’s say… oh, I don’t know, he has family there. Or something about the Chevy dealership thing Pete was working on. Doesn’t matter. Just get those two in a room and let the sparks fly until they light Pete’s suit on fire. Ted wouldn’t even notice. He’d just mope his way over to the thermostat and turn the AC down, then he’d sigh because he remembered the one time Peggy turned the AC down, then he’d mope back to his desk. It would be great. Bob could put out the fire himself then lie to everyone about being a volunteer fireman. There. That’s another option.
Or come up with something else. You’re the Emmy-winning TV geniuses, for Chrissakes. I’m just spitballing here. But I am serious. Bring back Bob Benson.