I didn’t expect it to happen, but it did. When I first met Mad Men it was love at first episode. Don’s constant existential crises, the delightful visual appeal of the 60s, people smoking and drinking around children and while pregnant. This was something foreign to me, something new and vintage and, well, seductive.
It was good at first. I remember the unbearable tension between Peggy and Pete. Slowly finding out all the shocking tidbits of Don’s past. Lois running over someone’s foot with a John Deer. Joan singing C’est Magnifique. Joan speaking. Joan being Joan. Every moment when Joan enters the scene.
Oh, wait. That part is still good, but not enough to save the relationship.
This last season is when it started. I’m not sure if we’re in different places in our lives right now, or if Mad Men just isn’t what it used to be. We used to have fun and after the first few episodes I was confused and constantly misreading. Don started an affair again, but it wasn’t the same as when he was doing it to Betty. Frankly, it was nothing more than a desperate attempt to spice things up again.
So I ended it. I didn’t wait out the season because I knew it was over. Sometimes I see someone mention Mad Men on Facebook and it makes me want to check On Demand, but…But then I think better of it. There isn’t anything for me. Not anymore.