In honor of the series finale of Mad Men
, I'm reposting this piece from 2012:
The Draper Family Picnic
The Rev. Dr. Leah Schade
Mad Men episode “The
Gold Violin,” Season Two, opens with
Madison Avenue advertising creative director Don Draper standing in a sleek Cadillac
showroom eyeing the 1962 Coup de Ville appraisingly. On the verge of entering an elite social and
economic level as his firm Sterling Cooper enjoys increasing revenue under
Don’s creative influence, the impeccably dressed, eternally handsome man seems
made for the expensive status symbol, and it for him. “This is the car for those who’ve already
arrived,” purrs the salesman. But Don is
hesitant at first and leaves the showroom without purchasing the vehicle. He is not quite sure that he has indeed “arrived.”
The senior partner of Sterling Cooper soon convinces him
that he has. Mr. Bert Cooper informs Don
that because their coffee company client was so impressed with his sales pitch
for their product, he has now been invited to sit on the board of the Museum of
Early American Folk Arts. “That’s nice,”
says Don dryly. “What is it?” It’s obvious he does not take this offer
seriously. That’s when Cooper reframes
the invitation for him: “Philanthropy is the gateway to power.” These words are placed in front of Don like an expensive cigar, just waiting for his well-manicured hands to
pick up, pass appreciatively beneath his nostrils and light up. “There are few people who get to decide what
will happen in our world,” Cooper says. “You
have been invited to join them. Pull
back the curtain and take your seat.”
The seat is leather, “like the cockpit of a jet,” exclaims
his gorgeous, blonde wife Betty (on whom Don has cheated repeatedly since
Season One). He brings the shiny, sky
blue road-yacht home to her and says simply, “It was expensive.” “You deserve it,” she says. “You work so hard.”
Neither of them give any thought to the fact
that the car is a gas-guzzling pollution machine, averaging only 8 m.p.g. How could they? In the early 1960’s, environmental
consciousness had not yet appeared, much less been mainstreamed.
The next time we see Don and Betty, they are draped across a
bucolic country hillside, the sedan parked sedately on the lane just above them. The sun dapples their red-and-white checkered
picnic blanket while a tapestry of green trees frames them like a picture postcard. Laying back against her reclining husband,
Betty sighs, “We should do this more often.”
“We should only do this,” Don
replies cleverly. Their young son
frolics nearby as his charming older sister, Sally, asks innocently, “Are we
rich?” Her parents exchange a quick
glance, and her mother replies, “It’s not polite to talk about money.”
Don then stands up, holding the can he has drained, and
chucks it into the distance. I
gasp. Betty silently checks the children’s
hands to make sure they will not soil the new car. Then she stands up, picks up the edge of the
blanket and shakes it out, sending paper plates, napkins, leftover food, and
all manner of picnic trash flying everywhere.
My hand goes to my gaping mouth.
The
camera seems to take the point of view of one of the nearby trees, unmoving,
unblinking in its gaze, watching as the family gets into the spotless
boat-of-a-car and sails off, leaving the formerly beautiful scene spoiled by
their garbage.
“I can’t believe they just did that!” I exclaim to my
husband.
“But that’s what they did back then,” he reminds me. “Nobody thought it was wrong to leave your
trash behind. Besides, Don certainly
didn't want all that garbage in his shiny new car.”
This is all before the 70’s image of the iconic “crying
Indian” surveying a landscape littered with trash, and the cartoon owl
reminding children, “Give a hoot, don’t pollute.” If the fictional Don Draper were alive today,
he would be in his late 80’s. In fifty years, he would have seen the advent of
Earth Day, the rise of grassroots environmental organizations like Greenpeace
and Friends of Earth, and the evolving of society’s conscience about not
overtly leaving one’s trash behind, out of sight, out of mind.
But what we see in this fictionalized snapshot of the Draper
family picnic is exactly the kind of attitude that still exists among much of
our nation, especially among the wealthy.
The Drapers are a lovely, upstanding, and - yes, Sally - rich family
who live in a protected bubble of wealth and prestige. Don makes a living selling illusions to the
public on behalf of corporations hawking products that will more often than not
end up in a landfill along a bucolic country lane somewhere.
Their expensive car is, despite its shiny
chrome and automatic windows, nothing more than a machine that throws its
trashy fumes into the air, trapping heat in the earth’s atmosphere that warms
the seas and contributes to the horrific mess left behind by superstorms like
Hurricane Sandy. And would Don have
risen to replace Bert Cooper, he would no doubt encourage the natural gas
corporations of today to throw their philanthropic dollars at the poor rural communities
desperate for an infusion of cash in order to secure their power that enables
them to trash America’s farms, woodlands and waterways while raking in as much
profit as possible.
In the final scene, Don is driving home from a party with his wife Betty
swaying greenly in the passenger’s seat.
Is it because she has had too much to drink? Or because a man at the party they were
attending at the Stork Club has just informed her that her husband and his wife
were having an affair? Regardless, the
result is the same. In a bit of poetic
justice, Betty vomits all over the seat of her husband’s brand new car.
“You’re garbage, and you know it,” the jilted husband had
told Don earlier at the party. Garbage
is as garbage does, apparently.
The excesses of Don’s generation have left our world in a
pool of vomitus and garbage. And the children
of Don and Betty are continuing their parents’ drunken addiction to fossil
fuels, endless consumerism, and destructive excesses. The picnic is over. The trash still remains.