Mad Men

We are coming upon my favorite time of year in the Big Apple - the winter holiday season! It's hard to believe it's already that time of the year.

Maybe tonight I'll try to make it to the lighting of the Christmas tree at Lincoln Center - since I'll unfortunately miss the tree lighting at Rockefeller Plaza on Dec. 3rd this year. Drat. I'll have moved away by then.

It's been a sad week for me, knowing that I'm leaving my favorite city. It almost hurts to go outside, knowing it'll be the last time I wander down the familiar sidewalks of Brooklyn and Manhattan.

I did find a temporary diversion from my pain. I took up watching Season 1 of Mad Men on Netflix DVD. I was hooked in no time. With each episode, as Matt Weiner's name scrolled by during the opening credits, I'd get all excited, recalling how I met the Executive Producer last month at a Madison Avenue book store. Such a great guy.

And an incredible show! My friend Tom was right, and I'm glad he recommended Mad Men to me. If you haven't seen it yet, you must. Season 2 just recently ended, and I'm waiting anxiously for it to come out on DVD next month.

I am in love with the dashing Don Draper, the lead ad services exec on the show who has a sort of Cary Grant/Humphrey Bogart air about him. He's classy. I hate him too - the lying cheat that he is. But he's the kind of "bad" guy whose manliness and fortitude endears him to the viewer. He can crush the immature little schmuck, Peter Campbell, like a roach just by looking at him with those piercing eyes. I'm sure I'm not the only one cheering in my living room when the spoiled brat gets exactly what he's got coming to him.

Don's wife Betty is so perfect that I keep thinking "Stepford Wife" every time I see her in the kitchen with her 24-inch waist, pleated skirt, neat pumps, nylons, motionless hair and apron.

What is amazing about that era is that everyone is smoking cigarettes everywhere, all the time. They smoke in the office, at home, in the car, on the train, in the elevator - heck, even the gynecologist smokes right there in the exam room before Peggy Olson even has a chance to get her feet out of the stirrups. It's hysterical.

To top that off, these ad men drink constantly too - morning, noon, and night. Before work, during work, and after work. And they are all having affairs - many with long-term mistresses.

But the most shocking part is the perpertual sexual harassment that women are subjected to - and not just in the office. I can't believe what some of the guys get away with! Was it really like that back then? Secretaries act more like nurse's aids to their bosses than assistants. If only people back then could see ahead to the 1990's, when laws were made to prevent that very behavior. My how things have changed in the past 50 years.

Oh my God - that is a shock in and of itself. 1960 was almost 50 years ago. Geez. When did that happen?

Yikes, now I'm really depressed!