In the end, when all is said and done, the wisdom of some old white guy who sounds like an EF Hutton commercial(what ever happened to them, gone with the buffalo?), is what assures us that the world, as we know it, is good. Sam's boss is the moral authority that comforts us. If only the good old white men, were in charge. And if only little Shirley Temple could come and charm the pants(perhaps literally, from the grown-up view) off the mean rich guy, so's he'd be nice to the poor people. If only the boss' sons would marry LaVerne and Shirley, the world would be swell. It's an old theme. And cherished. Ever notice how, in soap operas, if a poor person is nice, they soon become a lost relative, spouse, or personal assistant, living in the boat house, of the towns richest people? The last is a different thread actually, but I love bringing it up, so what the hell.
And what's with the woman attorney, in a state of continual awe for these extraordinary men?
Know what I mean?
p.