Incoherent ramblings of a Mad man
OK, it’s Sunday and I’m having irrational thoughts. I’m being followed! Why do half the people look at my blue shirt and say it’s yellow? I really don’t feel I have enough baguette. And I think I will be re-watching MM S1E4 “New Amsterdam” and S1E5 “5G” instead of watching live NFL football this afternoon.
This makes profound sense for two reasons.
One, I’ve discovered anytime is a great time to watch any episode of Mad Men. I thought originally that re-viewing would be tedious. Re-watching most TV is boring, even the programs we really enjoy. I saved VHS tapes of the first season of NYPD Blue; I could not get enough of that show back in the day. I found these dinosaur bones while digging out the heavy-duty winter wear I was going to need for the inevitable cold trudge toward Spring. I popped a tape in a couple weeks ago and in minutes I found myself skimming thru to just my favorite parts.
I expected to do the same with Mad Men. I already know what I need to know about the Mad-i-verse. I’ve thought about it a great deal since Season One. I’ve read about and discussed it almost every day on the web since August.
I was sure I could use my recreational time better.
Fool, I cried! I was proven silly to think such things.
The show is always a feast for the eyes of course. But I discovered how much story detail in the first three episodes ties directly into the just completed season. And I see subtleties in the acting and the directing that may have slipped past me the first time round. I was completely mesmerized by these episodes again. I recommend the re-watch to even the part-time Mad Meniacs out there. The old episodes hold up well and feel fresh as a breeze off the ocean on a morn in April just minutes before dawn cracks the horizon. I expect to be penalized fifteen yards for the unnecessary use of banal flowery metaphor, but I don’t care. I get carried away sometimes.
The second reason for me skipping the NFL today functions as a clue to understanding what makes me the LOM I am.
My Pittsburgh Steelers, the defending champeens, are done; wiped out; washed up by the tide, face-down and bloated, on the same beach I was mentally strolling moments ago constructing the above banal flowery metaphor. I was created in a small steel-producing town outside of Pittsburgh, (my parents were raised as traditional Roman Catholics; they may have used the Bessemer process, I’ve been too shy to ask) and the 1970’s were an awesome time for a young sports fan to be forged there. My love for the team is true and runs deep. The owners of the franchise, the Rooneys, and the players feel like family to me. So I was disappointed with their mid-season slump and the loss to the Cleveland Browns (!??! gah!) Thursday night has killed their playoff chances.
I totally understand Michael Corleone now. “Steelers, you’re nothing to me now. You’re not a brother; you’re not a friend. I don’t want to know you or what you do. I don’t want to see you in this hotel; I don’t want you near my laptop. When you’re scheduled to play on TV, I want to be told a day in advance so I’ll know not to watch. You understand? “
Fair warning Big Ben! This off-season, don’t go fishing with Al.
Does anybody have any thoughts on what they think they saw in the two episodes I’m going to watch? I remember not liking Pete at all in season one. And I remember wanting more Helen Bishop and Midge. That’s still true thru E3. I’ve already positively upgraded my opinion of Rachel from just checking out the roof kiss scene again and Betty deserves very little of the criticism she got this year. She’s not at all the one-note ice monster and child neglecter some perceive her to be. Go watch it again. And again.
Any other thoughts about what you might want to discuss in here, please feel comfortable to pixelize them.
Meta-Blogging Side Note: I wanted to start Secular Sunday this week but next Sunday is closer to the holiday and seems more irreverent so I’ll wait. And I may baptize it Suzanne Sunday too, because I miss some aspects of conditioned ritual worship and I bet my Teacher does too.