Showing posts with label Mad Med. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mad Med. Show all posts

Monday, April 18, 2011

Mad Men Mondays: On Nostalgia

"Nostalgia, it's delicate, but potent...in Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It's a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn't a spaceship, it's a time machine. Goes backwards, forwards, and takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It's not called "The Wheel," it's called "The Carousel." It lets us travel the way a child travels, round and around and back home again, to a place where we know we are loved." - Don Draper, Mad Men Season 1, talking about a Kodak Carousel that displays images invoking nostalgia.

Maybe because the news seems so dour lately, or perhaps it's part of aging, but I've been feeling nostalgic for more simpler times. In this CBS News story on nostalgia, Lemoyne College psychology professor Krystine Batcho observed that when something brings back memories, people are more likely to focus on people than items. "The things that people are most nostalgic for in their growing up years were simple things like having dinner with Grandma...or going camping -- as a family... Even if it's just getting together to have a simple meal, getting together to pray or whatever those experiences are that bring a family closer to one another." Something to remember during these trying economic times. People, not possessions, the soul remembers.

Looking back on my childhood, I recall simple "things": scratch and sniff stickers, my pink Smurfette lunch box, or earning prized Looney Toons eraser heads for getting enough gold stars in the third grade. But so much of what I remember are experiences, like...

Eating cherries and raspberries in an old farmhouse in Switzerland. We spent a lot of summers there as a child.
Making mashed potatoes with my grandfather, and eating them off of my grandparents' pretty blue plates in their home in Switzerland.
Sitting in a garden with my grandmother in Switzerland.
Dancing around the living room with my big sister to records.
Going swimming in the summertime.
Playing with our two cats.
Going sledding with my mom and dad in Van Saun park in winter, and making a snow man outside.

A new crop of enthusiastic sledders in Van Saun, on the same hill I went down as a child.


I think about smells too. One of my favorites, still is, is honeysuckle in the summer. Freshly mown grass transports me to a warm, sunny day in late June sitting in class longing for the lazy summer ahead. I think as adults, we should all get one summer off. Wouldn't that be nice?

The CBS article mentioned, "Nostalgia can be a lot about geography. So, if you grew up on the east coast, the smell of flowers made people nostalgic for their childhood. In the south, it was the smell of fresh air. In the Midwest, it was the smell of farm animals. And on the west coast, it was the smell of meat cooking or meat barbequing." Since I'm a vegetarian, good thing I grew up on the east coast.

What are you most nostalgic for? Don't life's seemingly simple pleasures and experiences sometimes seem the ones the memory most longs for? Isn't the memory trying to remind us what is most important in life?

Monday, March 7, 2011

Mad Men Mondays: The American Dream, Then and Now

Pour a glass of tomato juice or a mai tai, crack open the Utz potato chips and Ritz crackers, and welcome to my Mad Men Mondays discussion series. You do not need to watch the AMC show, about an advertising firm in New York City in the 1960s, to weigh in. This will be more about the themes of the show.

First topic - defining and pursuing the American dream over the years.

On a season one dvd extra, Chris Wall, Creative Director of Ogilvy & Mather, observed this:

"The whole notion of the American dream is really about moving from an industrial society to a leisure society where people went from kids working in factories and the Depression to postwar where you had lots and lots of affluence in the middle class.

The American dream was product. It's not like everyone could go to philosophy school. It was 'I could have a stereo. I could have a color tv.'"

On a Mad Men season three episode, ad man Pete Campbell told an elevator operator the American dream was to have a house, a car, and a television.

Flash-forward to 2011. Having lived in suburban New Jersey my entire life (born in 1975), it seems now that list today is a house (which you'll be convinced to renovate since marketers will tell you your interior is "dated"), two large, fuel-inefficient cars, multiple televisions and gadgets (with monthly service plans for parents and for kids) that you'll tire of and replace, and more.

Leisure time? In our gadget-always with you world, those lines are diminishing, and you'll be working to buy more "stuff." Alexander Lee (formerly of Project Laundry list, one of my favorite grassroots groups which encourages line drying laundry) observed how we sit behind desks and earn thousands of dollars to buy appliances.

How much "leisure time" is spent at Home Depot or Target changing something about our houses? As a renter, I'm not subject to the same temptations to make "upgrades" (a debatable term) to something I don't own. In a twist of fate - those dated interiors people despised are now becoming more popular because of Mad Men (how I drool over the Draper home over any gaudy McMansion any "real" (fake?) housewife is living in). Truth be told, I used to view a lot about my parents' home as dated - but now look at some rooms in a new light thinking, "How very Mad Men!"

Wages are stagnant and employers are getting more out of fewer workers (the former has the upperhand). To worsen matters, we've been conditioned into feeling entitled to more, and "needs" and "wants" aren't distinguishable. At least that's what Cablevision, Verizon, Best Buy, and the like want you to think.

As Professor Albert Lieberman, Executive Director, EMT Program, NYU Stern School of Business, said in the Mad Men season 1 extra, "Part of what I would call advertising environment is set up to make you believe that there's always more, there's always better. And if you can afford it, you should have it."

Can we afford it? Visa and Mastercard say yes. The average American family has no fewer than 13 credit cards, and household debt skyrocketed from $680 billion in 1974 to $14 trillion in 2008, according to "How to Restore the American Dream" in Time. Even if you can "afford it" at the time, who knows what card life's deck will hand you? Job loss, being out of work due to illness, expenses (like a costly car or household repair) are all unforeseeable factors we should save for. Another favorite four letter word I'm adding to my ever-growing list: Save. It's a more empowering feeling than a fleeting satisfaction from an object.

We expect governments to reduce waste - but where does that rule apply to ourselves? Has the American dream - as defined by consumerism - spiraled out of control, our wallets worse for wear? All the while, we're dreaming about our next furniture purchase or how our lives will exponentially improve once those new kitchen counters are installed. This isn't my American dream.

There was a line on Mad Men where someone asked how other people lived, and the reply was they're not as bored as us, they don't have as many things. Don't Betty and Don Draper seem the most dissatisfied, despite the dream house? Who has instilled this sense of boredom and dissatisfaction in our minds? Is it the same force that causes us to sit on the couch watching all of those housewives show. Marketers?

Reflect, aloud or silently, on your own path amid all this, fellow American dream finders.

Next week, I'll be discussing what drew me to the show: fashion.