My summer with Mad Men.
As I begin to write the sun is setting behind abandoned buildings in my town. Stale concrete relics turned amber for a few short minutes to make it seem like the lights were still turned on inside. Shadows moving across the windows like people scurrying around to answer a phone call, get a coffee, or to just sitting until someone walks through the front door to have the chance to say "may I help you?" Our economic system has hit the fan, but 50 years ago in a semi-make believe world it rages on like the bull it so accurately represents. Such is the life of the characters on the television series Mad Men which I finally had the pleasure of watching during the first half of my summer vacation away from the rest of the real world. I dug a hole, settled in, and watched the entire series in five weeks all the way up to the season five finale which just aired on June 10th.
My title is of course poking fun at the Community joke of six seasons and a movie. I've never watched the show so I'm not sure what exactly the joke is. I'll eventually get around to watching Community as I finally got around to watching Mad Men. It seemed like the right moment to start. School had finished for the semester, no homework means more free time. I was also feeling down after attending a friend's wedding and seeing couple upon couple fall over drunk with whatever combination of love and alcohol that appeared to intoxicate them. And without my work - my solid ground of Economics studies that had kept me whole and on point from January till May - I felt I was at a loss. My past demons crept back up on me and I would have none of it. Now seemed as good a time as any to relax and regroup with a bunch of strangers that smoked, drank, and sexed heavily. It was the excess I didn't know I needed.
It was quite the journey. One that I wish to share with everyone, hence this new 5 Songs In A Row in which I will be detailing my thoughts on each season of Mad Men through the songs played at the end of each season finale with the exception of season two since the last song was instrumental. So grab a few Lucky Strikes, a glass (or three) of Canadian Club, and enjoy the show.
Season 1 - "The Wheel"
"It's not called the Wheel. It's called a Carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels. Around and around, and back home again... to a place where we know we are loved." - Don Draper
Every now and then the television gods grant us a reprieve from the egregiousness of sub-par entertainment that passes for most of the prime time schedule. They give us a string to hold. It has a beginning, an end, and some pieces in between that you can hold and wrap around your fingers to weave some kind of personal connection. Mad Men is no different, but it is not a string, it is a heavy chain. It does not pull on your emotions, it rips them out so you can see what they look like on the inside. That feeling came on pretty quick which is why I didn't stop and watched all the episodes in rapid succession. The best shows are also always the ones where you see parts of yourself within the characters. It is the best way to connect and to me it's what makes other shows like LOST and 30 Rock so enjoyable. This isn't the "ooh! ohh! I'm totally a Chandler!" kind of thing, but more of a "oh, shit, yeah, I was a little bit of a Pete Campbell yesterday. I kinda hate myself." It's a little less of what they say and a little more of what they actually do and then other times it's the complete opposite. The writers are so adept at leading you one way in an episode and then dropping you off a cliff only to catch you when you reach the bottom. And then other times they just let you fall.
A week ago I cut my hand on a glass that broke as I was washing it. I can't stop looking at it as it heals and could very well form a noticeable scar. It will be a constant reminder of who and what I was thinking of when it happened. It takes me back to what Don Draper - easily one of the best main characters ever written for a show - was saying about the Kodak Carousel in season one's finale "The Wheel". We like to visit old memories even if they are the most terrible ones. We analyze what happened in the past as we get older hoping to find one iota of good that might've happened. Something minute we didn't recognize before because of a pain we still carried on our shoulders. Nostalgia is one of the most powerful tools we have for making better decisions that will effect our future. But we are told by the world, as Don tells Peggy, to move forward. That these things didn't happen. It establishes the duality of Jon Hamm's character. The split between Don Draper and Dick Whitman. The game of saying one thing and meaning the other and by selling the past like it's something new and shiny yet at the same time throwing it away like it's yesterday's newspaper. Heavy is the head that wears the two crowns.
But it wasn't the Kodak pitch scene that really got to me. It was the final scene of the episode, the old "expectation vs. reality" trick that always seems to grab a hold. Don feels he is redeeming himself by coming home in time to go away on holiday with Betty and the rest of his brood. One scene shows Don walking in to the house with the family still there. In his head he's saved, but life never works out the way a person wants it to and so Don instead enters an empty house. It's reality, his reality of realizing that he can't have the feeling of wanting to run away and at the same time still be able to come home as if nothing is wrong. But everything is wrong and it gives a good prologue of what is to come in the future.
Why do we create these false hopes? These alternate realities held in unreachable heights knowing full well that reality is right in front of our face and not 10,000 feet in the air. It's like every now and then we have to hang ourselves upside down and have someone shake us. Either that or listen to The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan in its entirety at three in the morning.
Season 2 - "Meditations In An Emergency"
"One day you’re there and then all of a sudden there’s less of you. And you wonder where that part went, if it’s living somewhere outside of you, and you keep thinking maybe you’ll get it back. And then you realize, it’s just gone."
- Peggy Olson
Let me first start off with a little disclaimer about the choice of song for season two. The finale did not have a song playing at the end, but merely a soft stringed instrumental to produce the mood of a sad and desperate wife telling her frustrated husband that she is pregnant. It wasn't this scene that wound up stabbing me in the chest, but the one with Peggy and Pete (more on that later). Instead I chose the song used in the opening of episode six, "Maidenform", to mix things up a bit and include something modern pressed in between the oldies. A song about a parade of royalty traveling to witness the coronation of their queen. Although the focus of this section will remain on the finale I want to mention the women in the show overall.
You see, my mother worked in Manhattan during roughly the same time period. She was a Peggy. Young and eager to work, yet stuck within the same stereotypical medieval "...but you're a woman" mindset from the men in charge of the companies she worked for. She wasn't in the advertising world, but it was the same wherever you worked. You had to fight and sometimes be even more tenacious than the men to get what you wanted and obviously deserved. You'd think by now we would've solved this problem along with many others. But no, we're still dealing with it, or should I say the men in D.C. are dealing with it by still telling women what they can and can't do with their anatomy. I'm not completely cynical in these matters though, I know we've made progress. I cringed quite a few times at the improper language that was used toward the minorities in Mad Men which made me thankful that our society has come a long way. However, it still has miles to go and it seems as if the car is sputtering out of gas.
Anyway. I, like many others, became interested in the collection of poems by Frank O'Hara with the same title as the season two's finale, "Meditations In An Emergency". I'll eventually read it just as other Mad Men-philes have before me, but just the title alone makes me think of Peggy and Pete's situation near the end. That uncomfortable feeling while Peggy tells Pete she gave their baby away in such a cold and emotionless candor. The mood and cadence of that scene and the way both Peggy and Pete eschewed from getting mad and raising their voices was some of the best acting I've ever seen. The calmness in the attitude of "this is what happened, this is what I did about it, and now it's done" was chilling.
Don was right, life is a time machine. You can go backwards and experience those ground shaking moments, but you can also forget them. The flashback during the episode "The New Girl" of Don telling Peggy "get out of here and move forward. This never happened. It will shock you how much it never happened" gives the viewer a taste of the power he has over himself and is willing to share with his young protégée. But as we all know, absolute power corrupts absolutely, and the more one tightens their grip the more everything seems to slip away. But Peggy uses this to her advantage by letting go and not throwing her life in reverse vis-à-vis forcing Pete to take responsibility for their mistake. It was erased which made it easier for her to tell him about it. There's been so many times I've done the same thing. Things that happened in the past. Bad things that are now gone from the history of your life to have the ability to just simply survive and move on.
Season 3 - "Shut the Door. Have a Seat"
"You said you'd always come home."
- Sally Draper
I remember the split like it was yesterday. Probably because I am reminded of it constantly by the look my oldest daughter has on her face when I have to drop them back off to their mother. My youngest has always known that I do not live in their house so her fancy free attitude guides her well when it comes to any sort of disappointment that may come her way. I proud of her for that, it'll serve her well in the future. She lets harsh words roll off her like they are nothing and she is above such juvenile actions from other people. In fact on Father's Day my grandmother sent some nastiness her way because "a seven year old shouldn't be allowed to dye their hair blue." I didn't see anything wrong with it, but my elders felt it necessary to display their anger. My youngest just laughed and walked away. She has a knack for making people seem petty and ignorant on their own accord instead of talking back. It's the wit and courage I wish I had when I was her age. I digress.
My oldest is the sensitive one. She's like me. She worries too much. Let's little things bother her when they shouldn't. Gets frustrated when things don't go the way she wants them to turn out. I've had to explain a lot to her about the world, more than normal for a nine year old girl that constantly gets made fun of for being small for her age. I've told her that she must be strong because it's going to get more difficult as she gets older. It makes me feel old, having grown up talks with someone who still believes in fairies and Santa Clause. How do you explain the world? What do you say to your children when they ask why you aren't coming home? I don't think I'll ever have the right answer. Then again, there isn't supposed to be one.
No one likes having to leave someplace you love. But, I must ask this of our main character: Did he ever really truly love it? It's hard to say. He goes through the motions, but he seems to be vaguely distant. His other life, his city life, is what always calls to him. His heart loves his family, but his body yearns to work and feel needed by something bigger than him. Some place where he can create, even if it is the decisions of the common citizen. But he can't do it alone. His comrades keep him afloat in murky waters. One, in particular, of course, means more than the others. It's not every day your boss (boyfriend, husband, girlfriend, wife, friend, whatever) comes to your residence and tells you he needs you and if you don't go he'll spend the rest of his life trying to make up for it. We take up arms for ourselves every day we get out of bed, but how often do we get to do that for another? I wish I had. I still wish I could.
The "we have to go back!" moment of Joan answering the phone, Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, in her most proper and professional voice is what sealed it all in a neatly folded envelope for the end of season three. Hand delivered to the viewer who, like me, was a ball of nicotine and nerves and needed that push forward to the next level. That feeling of empowerment that says "yes, you too can take charge and make something of yourself without the aid of a stranger." Shahdaroba essentially means keep moving on. The future is unknown, but you have the power to get there to find out. Bright or bleak it is exciting that it is even happening. And that is an important lesson I will teach to my children as well. That it doesn't matter what people say or do to hold you back, because they don't control you. It is just the projection of the attempt to control themselves. You are no slave to other people's wishes, demands, or contracts. If you want to start your own advertising firm, then go right ahead! And if you want to do it with blue hair, well, you can do that too.
Season 4 - "Tomorrowland"
"Just 'cause you're sad doesn't mean everyone has to be."
- Glen Bishop
Why do people do horrible things? I wish I had a honest and somewhat poignant answer to that question. Truth is I don't know because whatever happens it's always from out of nowhere. Even the good things are too, but those are rare these days. I want to know why humanity seems to want to destroy itself through individuals making the decision to do the wrong thing. I don't want to whine about it though like some kid who didn't get dessert for a week because he's being punished. I'm too old and cynical to believe there's some great purpose and path that some unknown force has already soiled. I live day to day and witness reality from somewhat of a distance so I can see the big picture all at once. Although sometimes I zoom in and focus on one thing and let everything else become blurry until it's completely distorted and unrecognizable. That is how I get sad the most I think.
This season is my favorite overall. I can't really tell you why. It's just something that is, which is why I must bring up several episodes from this season instead of just the finale. There are two back-to-back that particularly stick out amongst the others. "The Suitcase" and "The Summer Man" became somewhat of a diatribe about my mental state as I was watching. Falling back into the ill repute of old habits. I didn't want any of it. I mean, life sucks for many reasons. It's unfair, but that's something you get used to really quick, right? The reality of people dying, the reality of people that can't or won't communicate with you, and the reality of people moving away. We start to miss everyone which I think is part of the reason I went into a small hibernation. Better to not have anyone around to miss. That's no way to live, but you have to get through it to see the other side.
For Don it was booze and debauchery to get him through his divorce and eventually it came to a head in "The Suitcase". We carry so much baggage around with us. It's nice to know that certain people are around to help shove everything back in when it comes falling out. And the contents are never folded neatly as much as we'd like them to be. They're organized just enough to get us to the next destination, wherever that may be. In "The Summer Man", Don tries his hand at trying to be responsible. Cutting back on the whiskey, exercising, even writing in a journal. I totally get how those tiny cool spots on the bed are supposed to be appreciated, but I've had so many years of those. You want to be able to see someone there when you wake up and then once you see that person you can't imagine them not being there. I've resigned to the thought that whoever she may be she's not close by which just furthers my resolve to leave this god awful state.
Every day I think about where I'm going and how I'm going to get there. You can't stop progress. Bobby was right in "Tomorrowland", who wants to fly an elephant when you can fly a jet? It was sort of a nod to Don picking Megan as his bride to be instead of Faye Miller. The entire season was spent leading up to the Don and Faye love tryst and then, just like that, he picks someone else because he can and arguably doesn't really care what anyone else thinks. Peggy knew though, she sees right through his bullshit, and apparently Joan's as well. But what does it matter? Don got what he wanted, his babe. I want to know what he was thinking in the scene when he was sitting in the hotel room alone after him and the kids came back from Anna's house and right before he joined them in the pool. He looked how I look almost every night I go out lately. I drift off by myself with my drink in hand and look pensively at the ground until I have to dodge the inevitable question of "what's wrong?" Nothing is wrong, I'm just trying to put everything back into focus. To keep going at a very steady yet indolent pace so I'm not sad anymore from the grim and overwhelmingly dire feeling of loneliness and the reality of not having you, babe.
Season 5 - "The Phantom"
"When it went away he was heartbroken. And then he realized everything he already had was not right either. And that was why it had happened at all. And that his life with his family was some temporary bandage on a permanent wound." - Pete Campbell
We've reached our stopping point, but it is not the end quite yet. The anticipation for what will happen in season six is building as we speak. That sly and casual look that Don gives at the very end of "The Phantom" tells us that the old Don will be making a come back. Ad man by day, rich playboy by night. The man every man wanted to be back then it seems. That double life comes with a price as does every other decadent and ostentatious piece of property these people want to control. Don thought he could control Megan and her career. Pete thought he could control his lack of joie de vivre. Layne, the poor bloke, thought he could control money itself. And Joan...well, she gained a bit of control, didn't she? And even that came with a price as well. Nothing's for free and we're constantly reminded of that on Mad Men. They are there to tell you what to buy and not buy. What you like and don't like. The decisions make themselves even though we think we're the ones consciously deciding. We are undoubtedly and predictably irrational in matters of commerce and eventually of the heart. We see those things for what they are from the outside looking in while following the dark paths of a few Manhattenites taking a bite out of the world all while trying to avoid looking down as they fall.
I've had to take an extended break from 5SIAR. As much as I'd love to spread the word, I don't have time to stand in the street with a sign right now. I, like the bees at Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, inevitably have to work to support myself and my daughters. I took the "American dream", cut it up, and threw away the fat. What I'm left with is that hunger for happiness which is never satisfied, because Don is right, I want more. Not for myself, but for my girls. Pretty soon they will deal with the world as it comes at them and by the looks of it it's going to be dirtier than the city Sally experienced. So I continue this capitalist craving to satiate my monetary needs while dreaming of those greener pastures on the other side. Write this, create that. Change that color, pick a better tag line. It needs more! Stop asking for a raise! You want to go to Paris!? Punch in. Punch out. And so on, and so on, all while dealing with the smoke that gets in your eyes that sucks the light out of the room.
The darkness never really goes away it just gets subdued for a while during brief fleeting moments of the supreme illusion of resolution and solace. Don walking away from his princess being preened and back into black signifies the realization that he can never completely mold a partner into something he wants and needs and can hold on to forever. And so, he goes back to his old life. His stability, as with the other characters as well, lies within those dark recesses whether they like it to be or not. It's unfortunately where they flourish because it's a place that creates that craving for happiness. Because what do we want when we are happy? More happiness. And I hope the second part of this year brings it not only to me, but everyone else that's searching for it too. As Don would say to Betty, "everything's going to be fine."
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