I stayed up late last night, not only to catch the final episode of a show I have watched religiously for the past eight years - how will it all end?! - but also, in a way, to try and experience a thing, a moment, that no longer exists in this era of DVR and On Demand and Internet binging. I came of workforce age in the last golden years of true water cooler talk. I have very vivid memories of running up to colleagues to discuss the latest LOST plot twists or to analyze the newest Project Runway episode the morning after these shows aired. In those days - not that long ago, really - it was a safe and guaranteed discussion because you had either seen the show or you hadn't...and if you missed it, well, that was the end of that. Just like in college when you had to borrow someone's notes if you missed class, you were reliant on your friend or co-worker to recap the latest episode you missed.
Of course I'm not saying this age of watching what we want when we want is necessarily a bad thing. Countless, the episodes of Downton Abbey, Breaking Bad, The Walking Dead, and yes, Mad Men, that I've caught according to my own schedule, particularly if I wasn't free on a certain Sunday evening.
But still.
Mad Men has always been a show that relied heavily on nostalgia in one form or another, and in a way, I imagine there will always be a part of me that looks back toward that simpler era of television watching with a certain sense of melancholy. I imagine I'm at the tail end of a generation that remembers gathering 'round a literal tubed television, desperate to catch the newest Michael Jackson (yes, that Michael Jackson) world premiere music video or the Friends episode where Rachel and Ross finally end up together or the series finale of the classic show about nothing, Seinfeld. I couldn't have told you this at the time, but looking back, I think there was something inordinately comforting about the big television moments in pop culture; those moments when you knew absolutely not to call any of your friends or relatives because they were glued to the same show you and your family were also watching. And why would you call anyway? All would be discussed in real time, tomorrow at school or in class or at work regardless.
But of course, I would be reminisce if I didn't admit to another slice of nostalgia that I've been thinking about today, this first day of the rest of our lives without Mad Men and all of these amazingly complex, delightfully crazy, and wonderfully compelling characters that we have come to know and love and - maybe sometimes - even understand and relate to for just shy of a decade. Last night as I settled onto the sofa at 10pm for one last episode, I thought about how many times - how many Sundays - I had spent with this beloved cast of characters. This happens with any good show of course, but I feel Mad Men holds a particularly unique and special spot in my heart because it just might be the last show in my lifetime that unfolds as organically and in "real time" as this one did. Clear as day I can picture myself standing in my former boss and mentor's office, years ago, waiting for her to sign some contracts and hearing her tell me as a complete aside about this brand new show she and her husband had caught one episode of just a few days earlier.
"It's called Mad Men,"she told me. "It's all about these advertising executives in New York City. You should check it out. I think you'd really like it."
Truth be told I was a bit dismissive at first. Somehow in my head this show had turned into a comedy on some random cable channel and it did not sound like anything up my alley. But then, as luck would have it, I caught it on a re-run later that same week and boom! I was hooked immediately. Like wildfire, the word spread among my colleagues that this was THE show to tune into. Without realizing it the group of us working in our specific department morphed into two divisions - those that did watch...and those that didn't. Because this was before the dawn of widespread DVRing and online streaming we all tuned in on Sunday nights. And we all discussed first thing Monday morning. If you didn't watch? Well, sorry. You're not going to enjoy the Monday morning coffee circle nearly as much as the rest of us. I guarantee Mad Men is part of the reason I'm still close to certain colleagues that I work with today; even when online viewing became a more common practice during the show's run I have great memories of two friends and I booking a conference room to watch the latest episode during our lunch break, no sounds emitting from that room beyond the show's dialogue and the occasional crunch of lettuce from someone's salad.
Just as I sit here and think about the office, position, even apartment that I used to be in when Don Draper first arrived in my life, I think about where his character was when I met him - how he evolved (or didn't, depending on who you talk to), what obstacles these smart, brilliant, utterly flawed characters overcame for seven amazing, sharp, and glorious seasons.
Throughout my tenure with Mad Men there have been a handful of episodes that have made me clutch my chest, have left me nearly breathless with their flawless writing and execution. I have long maintained that the episode entitled The Suitcase is and will remain my forever favorite. Yet as I watched season seven come to a close these past few weeks I couldn't help but silently commend Matthew Weiner for giving me so many moments to laugh about, to cry over, to shake my head, and to yes, grip my chest and marvel at the genius of his writing and execution. There were moments and scenes across these seven seasons that literally made my heart ache. If that's not good writing, I don't know what is.
My time is valuable and I do not hand it over to television lightly. If I invest my minutes in your show I want you to make me laugh, cry, sigh, get angry, get appalled, feel remorse, empathize, and most importantly, to think. Mad Men gave me nearly eight years of thinking and for that I will be forever impressed and even grateful. For these days, when there is more information and entertainment options than one will ever be able to consume in an entire lifetime I do feel grateful for those shows that got me, that held me, that let me come along for a wild, crazy, thrilling, and amazing ride.
Don. Joan. Peggy. Betty. Roger. Pete. Burt.
Thank you for one hell of a journey.
1 comment:
I'm definitely feeling a void in my heart from the loss of this show. And I was also thinking about the personal connections I have with it, of the ways it paralleled my life. I might even write an essay about it!
Post a Comment