Still Motion
Mad Men, series 1, episode 13
The Sterling Cooper Belle Jolie campaign focus group: ‘A Basket of Kisses’ also known as ’Mark Your Man’.
Mad Men, Season 1
Bring on the New Bromancing ... Mad Men & Me
This weekend my significant other is away for the weekend at a ‘Buck’s party’, leaving behind the wild weather (high winds and dust storms here) for 48 hours of non-stop football watching, beer, surfing, surfing videos, football re-runs and well, beer. The scene for these activities is a house on a beach more than several hours drive from home. This particular buck’s party will be rather large. More than 20 of them at last count, all bonding in the primeval form. Cro-Magnon anyone? Maybe. But I am calling it the New Bromancing.
I confess I find the whole Stag / Bucks’s night concept a bit odd in the 21st century. When people have been going out forever, travelled to Bali and shopped together for IKEA, I’m puzzled why there is a need to split the sexes into Bucks and Hens just because the couple in question have decided to wear matching rings … *frowns*
Once I actually suggested to a girlfriend who was getting married to a famous television producer, that we have a joint Buck’s and Hens’ Night for everyone who was invited to the wedding. On the invitation we could put “Not another buck ‘n hen night” was my line of thinking. I was thrilled by my catchy tag line - if you get my drift. However, the look of horror on her face at the idea of a unisex event pre-wedding cake said it all, without her saying a word. Needless to say my idea was duly filed under ‘Too cutting edge’. Or maybe it should have been filed under simply ‘Too Edgy’. Or whatever.
And thus the ubiquitous bucks’ nights continue unabated. Sometimes they end up in those seedy strip clubs or sometimes they emerge in a tamer version as the weekend away + beer. But, no matter what the form, I have come up with a perfect - and it must be said brilliant – solution to this gender-splitting practice. While the bucks are a-bucketing and the hens are a-nesting, I’m simply staying home a-lone! The opportunity to curl up on the couch with the dog on my feet and watch the entire Season 1 of Mad Men is now at hand. In fact, I can watch all 13 episodes if I want (which I do). In a row. Until I am practically drunk on the exquisite Don Draper and wishing I could channel my inner Joan / Betty / Rachael or at the very least raid their insanely gorgeous wardrobes. Because I own the remote, I do.
I’m giddy at the prospect of my own personal Mad Men extravaganza. In fact, now that I am thinking about it, couldn’t all guys do with a bit more bromance in their lives? They need it. And I am hoping the rest of our friends who haven’t done so get married asap, and leave the real Mad Men to me - Season 2 is due in store any week.
Another buck ‘n hens weekend? I say, bring it on.





