If you are addicted to the Canadian Club swigging, chain smoking,
slick sixties drama like I am – then all of Sunday was spent in
anticipation for the season premiere of Mad Men.

Two hours prior to air time, I filled my time with laundry, a long distance phone call
to a gal-pal in NYC, a brisk walking of the dog, FB tidying….FUCK – is it on yet?
Similar to how a child might tinker before their birthday party, I was flustering over anything and everything to make the minutes tick faster. It
was the longest two hours of the summer.

At 9:52, my husband and I decided we needed a snack. OMGAWD –  rush, rush,
rush! We furiously popped some kernels on the stove top, as if the
microwave had never been invented. It seemed appropriately fitting
for the genre. High drama ensued when just as the corn began to pop, I
was in the basement screaming up to him,  “IT’S ON, IT’S ON!” Poor guy, he nearly fell down
the stairs, arriving just as the haunting credits
 were drowning out. MOTHER OF CHRIST – he almost missed the first five seconds!!

Is it just me, or did you also feel like the new digs were jarringly modern? I love the chairs, and just may waltz down to Queen West Antiques to find a copycat version, but can’t help but yearn for the old office. It’s like we walked from MacLaren McCann to Zig…..or maybe it felt more like the maze at Niagara’s funhouse? Where was I? In real life, I applaud change – on my favourite TV shows, I get dizzy.

Beyond this, Peggy has a new found sass – with her drawling “Ooooh Charles” to the peppy young copywriter. It’s great that her character has grown more confident, and I get it Peggy – you are kick starting women’s lib and for that we should all be very thankful, but I can’t help miss the awkward, nerdy and naive you. And why, all of a sudden, are Peggy and Pete best friend’s again? Didn’t she secretly bare his child then, a year later, shock him senseless with the fact that she gave his only son away? Oh, and I’m less turned on by Don, now that he likes his face slapped during sex.

I realise the times-they-are-a-changin’, but easy Matthew Weiner, we just got used to hosting entire parties around deviled eggs and meatloaf!

The bitch-slap for a hunk of ham was funny though – not as hilarious as when Lois, the twit, mangled a man’s foot in a lawn mower – but still har-har. And I was pleased Miss. Holloway in her own office, even if she is still ordering up coffee and grapefruit juice for the creative hacks. Lazy bastards. As for Betty? I guess she’s still cut-eye enough, although I much prefer to watch her seduce Don in a delicate nighty than nestle into the gray hairs of her new older beau. I bet Don smells better.

JFK’s assassination was shown last season, so either the new season kicks off six days after his death, American Thanksgiving 1963- or it
is over a year later, and we are now in 1964. Either way, it feels like years have occurred since last season…and I can’t help but wonder if the series can maintain it’s charm as it propels through the sixties?

I have a feeling that the first time we hear Jimi Hendrix in the background, the whole thing might blow to hell.

So, like, who’s already hooked on Rubicon?