It’s been years – literally five years – since I started watching the Netflix series Mad Men. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? Don Draper’s suave, polished look has filled my television screen over this period of time, in ebbs and flows, as a g0-to source of entertainment on the rare occasions that my to-do list doesn’t take reign.
Last Friday night, I finished the final episode of the final season. It sounds like a ridiculously insignificant milestone, but it’s the first series I’ve ever watched entirely. (And it took me almost as long as it took for its 7 seasons to be made.) After Don and his entourage being a part of my life for half a decade, it feels strange to be done. There’s no more to watch, unless I start over again.
Thank you, Don et al, for your many moments. For the drama you built so gradually over each episode. For the vibrant colors of those 60’s outfits and decors. For the antiquated beliefs that contrast so deeply to those of today (and make us realize how far we’ve come). For the glimpses at New York City office life in a time of great change, full of bottomless whiskeys and an endless supply of cigarettes. As much as I dislike both, I couldn’t help but enjoy the happenings unfold through its clouds of smoke. And in reality, what more is Don looking for that what all of us are in life – figuring out who we really are?
As far as I’m concerned, Mad Men hit its mark. Now, it’s time to move on to the next show. House of Cards anyone?