On Footnotes of Mad Men: How You Get Your News
I remember where I was when I heard about the death of President Kennedy. I was at school. We were called into assembly and told what had happened, our parents had been contacted, and we were to wait for them or whomever they sent to take us home. School was closed until Monday. There was no joy about school closing early that day.
I walked home with the mother of a friend, and when I got there the first person I saw was my mother sitting on the floor surrounded by white curtain material, sewing curtains for my room and crying. Let me tell you, there is nothing that frightens a bewildered six-year-old girl more than seeing her mother cry and not understanding the reason. I thought my dad had died. It was not until he called home and reassured me he was all right, it was the President of the United States who had died, and Mom was crying because she had liked him; Dad then reassured me he would be home shortly, and he was home within an hour.
The next four days consisted of one or both of my parents taking me and my new baby sister to the park, to the playground, shopping, or to the movies to get us away from the news coverage and the upset adults surrounding us. This was the first time all three networks showed the same thing, and there were no dvds or video tapes to distract bewildred kids.
Those who have no memory of the event, like my sister (who was six months and one day old when the president was asassinated) or were born in the years after this event have no idea how much this can affect the average person, even those too young to vote.
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On Footnotes of Mad Men: Misfits, Horse Meat and Clark Gable
About the part of the episode dealing with feeding dogs horsemeat...when my husband and I saw that, we both turned to each other at the same instant and exclaimed, "That's Kal Kan!" We both remember Kal Kan well. My family had two dogs when I was Sally Draper's age, a poodle and a yorkshire terrier, and it was my job to feed the dogs, mixing Kal Kan with Walter Kendall 5's kibble. Walter Kendall came in a 20 pound green bag and was five different colors. The dogs scarfed it down. At the time it made no difference to me what it was made of, and even though I am now a member of PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) I think the consumption of certain meats and not others is largely cultural. Most people in the United States would never think of eating dog, yet in other countries it is commonplace. One of my favorite movies is "Little Big Man" about a 110 year old white man raised by the Cheyenne, who has this to say about their diet: "Dog is greasy, I admit, but you would be surprised at how delicate it can taste, especially when you're starving." Hindus won't eat cow, Muslims and Jews won't touch pork...it's cultural.
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On Footnotes of Mad Men: Misfits, Horse Meat and Clark Gable
Yep, I'm a California girl...about the same age as Don Draper's daughter Sally.
My Dad eventually left the missle program to help send men to the moon, so I got to meet a few astronauts (they were my heroes). Much better than blowing up the world, in my opinion.
If Sally Draper is anything like me, she will overcome her upbringing (especially her mother) marry a reformed bad boy biker (the total opposite of Don Draper and my dad) and become minister.
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On Footnotes of Mad Men: Misfits, Horse Meat and Clark Gable
I have watched every single episode of Mad Men, and I finally have to say it...my parents were real life versions of Don and Betty Draper (my dad even had the same first name)! Every time Betty snaps at Sally and Bobby I hear the way my mother used to speak to me and my sister. My dad did not work in advertising, he worked in aerospace. During my early childhood he designed missles, and I well remember that nerve wracking time when we faced off with Russia over the missile bases in Cuba. Every other house on our block had a bomb shelter, and when the crises was over we kids used to play in them. My dad was very distant with my sister and me until he discovered we were talented musically, at which point he did everything he could to encourage us, giving us music lessons and taking us to musicals, symphonies and plays; otherwise we did not have much to talk about. I do not know anything about either parent's childhood, it was not talked about then and it is not talked about now. I do know they both grew up desperately poor and from what one of my aunts has said, may not have had enough to eat at times (they grew up during the depression). I think their memories were too painful to share. Like Don Draper, my dad hid a lot of things from my mother. Like Betty, my mother was beautiful and concerned that her life looked perfect to the neighbors even though she knew it was not.
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On Footnotes of Mad Men: Goodbye, All Our Pretty Horses
Again, the writers must have looked into my life. The scene where Don and Betty tell the kids they are getting divorced was word for word the conversation my parents had with me and my sister in the same situation, though I was a teenager and my sister was about eleven years old. It was even held in that one area of the house forbidden to kids: the living room. My sister said the same things Sally said, while I was thinking, "Thank God! Now the fighting will stop." Boy was I wrong! They fought about child custody; I was allowed to decide whom I wanted to stay with but my parents went to court fighting over my sister...Mom won but she died shortly after and my sister went to my dad anyway, what a waste of
time and money. They fought about holidays and weekend visitation. As a teen, I wanted to spend weekends hanging out with friends but to keep the peace I went to Dad's and tried to have a good time, only to come home to be grilled by Mom about what we did and whom we did it with, and to be lectured about all of Dad's faults. If she found out we had met someone he was dating she would call him and scream for an hour about how he was not to bring his friends around us. Oh what a joyful time Sally and Bobby have to look forward to!!