My Last Plea To Hillary Supporters

Normally, my political articles have had a bit of a snarky edge. But tonight, I want to get serious.

I read an article this morning on The Huffington Post about a group of Hillary supporters who were going on a bus trip to Scranton, Pennsylvania to pledge their support for John McCain.

While everybody is entitled to their opinion, the meat of this story disturbed me. Especially because this issue hits so close to home.

I live in New York State, where, like it or not, she is one of our two senators.

Over the last few months, informally and during my work with a local chapter of Obama for America, I've spoken with several women who had supported Hillary Clinton in the primaries, but vowed not to vote for Senator Obama because he hadn't chosen her to be his vice-presidential candidate. Some of these women have been quite ardent in their opinions. I understand why they might feel disappointed. But I don't understand why they are voting for John McCain.

I guess they don't know much about Senator Obama's strong record on supporting women's issues. Back when he was an Illinois State Senator, Obama helped pass legislation to expand insurance coverage for mammograms.  Probably because his mother's death from ovarian cancer effected him so profoundly, when he became a United States Senator, he was an original co-sponsor of Johanna's Law, which was designed to educate women and increase awareness of ovarian cancer.

Unlike his opponent, who has changed his position when it suited him politically, and very much unlike John McCain's running mate, Barack Obama  has always supported a woman's right to choose. If he is elected president, he will fight to preserve Roe vs. Wade and not allow any constitutional amendment banning abortion.

He was also an original co-sponsor of legislation that is intended to improve access to contraception, health information and preventative services to help reduce unintended pregnancies. This act will also end insurance discrimination against contraception, improve awareness about emergency contraception, and provide compassionate assistance to rape victims. He has introduced legislation to combat domestic violence and has supported strengthening domestic violence laws. And, he and Joe Biden have worked hard to get women equal pay for equal work.

That's just a small taste of how Barack Obama's policies will benefit women.

So I urge all women who want to vote for John McCain as a protest to think again. Think about how dismissive McCain has been about "women's issues," putting little air quotes around them when he speaks of them. Think about the Supreme Court justices who may be retiring over the next four years, and, if John McCain were elected, the kind of justices he might be replacing them with. Maybe the kind who would repeal Roe vs. Wade. Think about his running mate, who would counsel a girl who had become pregnant through rape or incest to "choose life." I can't even imagine being in that young girl's shoes, how cruel it would be to force her to relive that horrid event every day for nine months.

Think again. Your vote could be the one that makes the difference. Maybe even for your own daughter.

At Least The Benefits Are Cool

As the last, nasty dregs of this brutal presidential campaign dribble from the political spout, I look at both of these candidates and think, “I’m glad I’m not one of them.”

Being President of the United States has to be just about the hardest job in the world (outside of, you know, brain surgeons and people like that). Especially now. Look what   you’d be walking into. An economic catastrophe, two wars, various other hotspots flaring up all around the globe, what is sure to be a very short honeymoon between you and the press, and whatever other assorted messes that George Bush will be leaving behind.

You couldn’t get me to take that oath, not in a million years. I’d make a really lousy president, anyway. What with saying what’s on my mind and all. And expecting my husband to pick china patterns and linen? Well, he is an artist, so he’d probably be better at it than a lot of other people.

And think of all the multitasking. You’ve got Putin on the phone over here, a bunch of school kids who came in for a photo op over there, a state dinner for some African president in a country that didn’t exist five years ago down the hall, not to mention all those lobbyists who keep trying to get in the door. And recent studies show that multitasking doesn’t really make us any more productive. So everybody gets about, oh, I’d estimate 30% of your attention? And supposedly, men are worse at multitasking than women. Something about that biological need to pick the wildebeest out of a bunch of brush so you can get a clear shot at it.

Perhaps a woman would be a better choice for the job. At least you’d know –  evolutionarily speaking (that means the other theory they are teaching in school, Governor Palin) – that she could handle more than one thing at a time.

But this woman ain’t throwing her hat into the ring, no way, no how, no McCain, no Palin. Not for all the dollars in Obama’s campaign war chest, not for all the “half-truths” Bush has told during the last eight years, not for all the times that John McCain has said “my friends” in the entire campaign season starting from the word “go.”

Nope. You’re not going to get me out on that campaign trail. Just try me – offer me the ownership of the New York Yankees. Write me into T. Boone Pickens will. Give me the equivalent of all the royalties of all of the Harry Potter books combined.

I’m not budging.

Just look what it does to you! Look at the pictures of Bill Clinton before he got into office compared to the ones after. He must’ve aged four years for every one that he spent in the White House (six for every one during the Lewinsky scandal).

It’s a good thing that Senator Obama is starting out so young. Imagine what McCain would look like at the end of his (I shudder at the very thought of this outcome) term. It’s not a pretty sight.

 At the very least, I hope the job comes with dental.

The S Word: Sneaky

John McCain and his running mate are making great political hay out of linking Barack Obama with this year’s latest dreaded word. Yes, every presidential campaign has one of those, and they usually come out at around this time in the election process. “Liberal” was a famous one, whispered about John Kerry and Al Gore.

Right now, that word is “socialism.” Governor Palin, in an attempt to misrepresent her opponent’s positions, tells her goggle-eyed acolytes “that this is no time to be experimenting with socialism.”

Well, guess what, Governor? We already are. We have been since the federal income tax was instated. People send the IRS their money, and the government spends it as they see fit. And, with the advent of the Social Security system, this money gets spent on retirees. With Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “New Deal,” the money goes to more people whom the government deems needy. Ditto Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society.”

And another news flash, Ms. Palin: what do you think the government bailout is? The very “rescue plan” that your boss suspended his campaign to race down to Washington (after an interview with Katie Couric, a good meal, a good nights sleep, and a speech at an event sponsored by Bill Clinton) to “help” get passed. And he also voted for said bill.  Allowing our banks to become nationalized -- is that not more experimentation with socialism?

And this “flash of genius” (the author says sarcastically, if you haven’t figured that out already) that John McCain released during one of the debates about having the government buy back failed mortgages – isn’t that just more socialism?

So I’d be careful about the words you toss around, Governor – like I’ve found so many times, they can often come back not just to haunt you, but to bite you in your ever-more-socialist and designer-clad ass.

America’s Got Tsuris

Never in my life did I think I’d be admitting to this, but with the election turning as nasty as one of Alec Baldwin’s voicemail messages, and the stock market flip-flopping faster than John McCain’s positions, I, and probably many other Americans, are looking forward to the start of the fall television season.

How I long to settle into my easy chair in the evening and watch something besides the candidates bitch-slapping each other with the media gleefully egging them on, or news of yet another governmental bailout of an economic institution. And no, I’m not talking about another reality show (Although the former might make a pretty good one, or at least one rocking good episode of American Gladiators. The latter might make a good vehicle for Donald Trump.).

I’m talking about actual scripted entertainment. Something written by actual writers. Something with a beginning, a middle, and an end. Something that will make me laugh, and not just because it’s either that or cry.

I want Two and a Half Men back.I want the dilemma of which show we should record on the DVR on Thursday nights: Ugly Betty or Survivor. Heck, I’d settle for a heavy-handed episode of Boston Legal, just so I can have a break from the lunacy that passes for the selection of an American president. I’ll even give some of the new shows a shot, although from the previews, not too many of them look like they’re going to last very long.

Worst Week is probably only going to be on for a week, so that’s my candidate for the first new show to be canceled. Ripping off shows from the BBC proved a winner for The Office. But that’s not always the case. Coupling, while brilliantly fun across the pond, didn’t translate for a US audience, and Worst Week looks not as much like a BBC rip-off than a sitcom version of Ben Stiller’s Meet the Parents. Sitting through the movie was bad enough, so viewing a tiny version of it every week has little appeal. But I’m not much of a fan of what TV Guide’s Matt Rousch calls “painfully funny slapstick.” I can watch that any night on MSNBC.

Second one down – although this might be a rival for first – is the pathetic-looking sitcom Do Not Disturb. Fox has been promoting this show for so long I thought it was already airing, and I wondered just from the unfunny promos why it hadn’t been canceled yet. Not since Hot L. Baltimore (with Two And A Half Men's" Conchata Ferrell) and The Newhart Show have sitcoms set in the hospitality industry caught anyone’s fancy. And I doubt this one will either.

On the surface, Gary, Unmarried looks like it might be amusing, but it also looks like a copycat of so many other relationship comedies that have come and gone. I searched my brain for an example, but they all seem so totally forgettable - well, that’s kind my point, isn’t it?

As far as dramas, I know that remakes like The Sarah Connor Chronicles have been hits, but I don’t think the same magic is going to strike in Knight Rider. While its 1970s original might have caught a few hearts (at least among the teen set for the pre-Baywatch David Hasselhoff), I think this one’s going down in twisted aluminum and fire. The coolest special effects may put a few butts in the seats in a movie, but dragged out over a season, it might run out of gas.

Just so I don’t look totally snarky, there are some gems in this pile of gravel. One of them could be My Own Worst Enemy, starring Christian Slater as a mild-mannered gent with a dark side – someone who looks just like him is playing über spy in his off hours. The plot looks fascinating, and, well, there’s Christian Slater.

I’m also looking forward to Kath and Kim, which, although a remake from an Australian comedy (are we spotting a trend here?), looks pretty funny. It should stick around for a while, as it’s been nested in prime territory between My Name Is Earl and The Office.

From the previews, Fringe looks like a combination of The X-Files, Lost, and 24. It also looks like something that might give me nightmares, and I try to avoid shows like that. Day-to-day reality is enough of a nightmare. That’s why it’s called “escapism.”

Another BBC rip-off (sigh) is the sort of interesting-looking police drama, Life on Mars. If the time-traveling detective shtick hasn’t worn off yet, (think New Amsterdam) this one might be a hit. I hope this is not a trend started by last summer’s Swingtown, but the show features a soundtrack from the disco era, where Detective Sam Tyler has landed. Considering that the show co-stars Harvey Keitel, I might be able to overlook the soundtrack.

Look for actual real reviews of these shows and possibly others – if I get around to watching them – in the weeks to come. After all, I’m betting that even the worst sitcom is better than the best political bitch-slapping – unless that happens to be between Hillary and her husband.

The Silly Season

The largest lending institutions in America are failing. Wall Street is going crazy. I can’t even take out a loan to put gas in my car, and what do the media report concerning the two presidential candidates?

Lipstick on pigs. Hollywood fundraisers. And Lindsay freakin’ Lohan.

Come on, now.

Since when are the blatherings of addled-brained celebrities – lifted from their blogs, yet – considered newsworthy? Sure, it gives people like me something to do, but I never claimed I was a journalist.

Aside from all the financial stuff that makes my head hurt, let’s look at this presidential election. Forget the lipstick. Forget Barbra Streisand. Forget even the history-making demographics of both tickets. Let’s look at what these campaigns have done to get people younger than – say, my age – excited about politics.

It started with Barack Obama. Legions of younger people flocked to his website to make their $25 donations. Armies of them gathered in towns across America making plans and contributing to the platform, in one of the greatest get-out-the-vote efforts ever seen. Having briefly been a soldier in this Army, I can tell you that the organization rivals any small- or medium-sized company I have ever worked for. These are all volunteer positions, and each one has a full job description and accountabilities. The depth and spread of this grassroots movement is astounding. I don’t know the exact statistics, but I’m willing to bet you that between the Democrats and the Republicans (excited by the  “new car” smell of the Governor from Alaska) that for this election, more people have registered to vote than for any other presidential contest ever.

We are standing with our toes wrapped around the precipice of history, and many of these young people are voting for the very first time. What an example we as a nation could set for these eager, newly-legal citizens! We can show them, as Senator Obama said in the “Forum for Service” on September 11, that government can be “cool” again. We can show them why it’s good to give back to your community, and the intrinsic rewards you get from that. We can show them that political contests can be conducted without rancor, and with grace, and with dignity.

We are not doing a very good job. We are showing these brand-new voters the dirtiest of our dirty laundry. We’re doing the equivalent of taking them into the bowels of a shiny, architecturally brilliant new building and showing them how the furnace works. Or, more accurately, how it doesn’t work, because the contract went to the lowest bidder, and there’s no money in the budget to get it fixed.

We’re telling them, “Forget about your youthful ideals – nothing is ever going to change, so why even bother trying?”

We are raising a new generation to argue about idiotic metaphors and subtle innuendo and frankly stupid off-the-cuff comments.

Our slips are showing.

So before we essentially tell these kids that the voter registration cards that they’ve filled out are no better than toilet paper, can we please elevate the conversation and get back to the things that really matter? You know, the really important stuff.

Like, how is Cloris Leachman going to do on Dancing with the Stars?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Television Correspondent Washed out to Sea... I Wish

I have never been a big fan of Geraldo Rivera. When he was a young reporter way back in the 70s on WABC-TV news in New York, he annoyed the heck out of me with his breathless reportage. “Chill out,” I’d think. Just calm down and tell me what happened. Then he took this whole bizarre turn into sensationalistic journalism. Then he annoyed the heck out of me with overwrought, tawdry accounts of the life of Charles Manson. A few years later, he annoyed the heck out of me with that Al Capone’s vault escapade. Weeks and weeks of hype, while we sat on the edges of our seats waiting for him to dig through layers and layers of nothing just to find even more layers of… nothing.

Now, the only time I see him on the air  (he is on that network that I currently refuse to watch, except for notable events like this) is when he is deployed, along with the other poor schmucks, to some quivering piece of coastline where a hurricane is about to make landfall. Usually, he is in front of a levee, or a sea wall, or on a beach. The wind is beating up his normally perfect hair. One manly hand is grasping onto something because he can barely stand up straight.

And he’s loving every minute of it.

And, apparently he thinks that we’re supposed to be loving it, too.

But do we? Do Americans, jaded by an excess of popular culture, get excited by the prospect of someone putting himself (or herself) in mortal danger?

All you have to do is watch the ratings for shows like “Fear Factor” and its many copycats (The latest is the current phenomenon, “Toughest Jobs in America”) to know that the answer is a definite “yes.”

This is an odd phenomenon in our society. I think the Weather Channel started it all. Whenever some evil nasty from the sky was about to strike, they’d bundle up one of their reporters (often someone without much seniority) in conspicuously name-branded outerwear (usually a company that was one of their larger advertisers). They’d lash these intrepid young lads or lassies to something vertical while the blizzard, the tornado, the hurricane, or whatever Mother Nature could dish out pounded them, just so you, warm and toasty at home and curled up on your couch eating chips out of the bag, would know just what it was like to be out there firsthand.

I felt sorry for these poor people. This is the age of Big Brother. Of video recorders in ATM machines, of tiny spy cameras wired up at red lights to catch lawbreakers, and miniature cameras in our laptops. For Pete’s sake, couldn’t we just mount some kind of weather-proof camera atop a building or on a bridge and get a good look at what it’s doing outside without somebody risking their life to show you that it’s snowing?

But then I think that other networks started having weather envy. Why should the Weather Channel get all the points for bravado? Why should they be allowed to have the equivalent of broadcast orgasms every time a big storm comes along?

Then came Geraldo Rivera. Manly and fearless, his hair sprayed into a tousled mane. The hairs of his mustache combed perfectly straight and his eyeglasses shining with righteousness, standing with his bulging arms akimbo atop a sea wall like some Hemingway-esque hero. With no care for his own safety, mind you, and wearing his own conspicuously name-branded outer apparel, just to bring you, the viewer, the real news as it is happening!

Now, I am not making light of the seriousness of hurricanes. My heart goes out to all the people who lost loved ones or were displaced from their homes during not just Katrina but all of the storms that ravaged this country and others.

And I have no desire to see Geraldo Rivera nor any other news personality harmed by any idiotic event they might try to cover.

But I’m so sick of watching this guy jump into the fray during every storm just so he can hang on to some tree, or dock post, or other kind of vertical handhold, his hair dripping, his eyes shining, just so we viewers at home can see how dangerous it is and how brave he is being.

What would we do without this macho stud on the air, risking his life to tell us that the wind speed is now up to a whopping 80 miles an hour? Without him there with a microphone, yelling out, “Oh, my God, there’s someone in the water! Somebody fell into the water!” Only to find out that the guy who “fell” into the water was in the Coast Guard and was trying to secure something to a dock, not flailing for his life.

It disturbs me a little bit to discover this about myself, but every time a hurricane comes along and Geraldo is doing the report, I’m praying for the elements.

I’m hoping – well, I would never wish for anyone’s death or injury – but I’m hoping just once to see him get knocked over a sea wall and have to crawl his way back over, his mustache drooping, looking like a drowned rat in conspicuously name-branded outerwear. And I want to be able to see it over, and over, and over again.

Whoever invented TiVo deserves a medal.

An Open Letter to Senator Obama

Okay. Step away from the metaphors and put your hands where I can see them.

We’re in trouble. We’re down in the polls, the media is reporting various accounts of unnamed sources saying that your campaign is running scared. The governor from Alaska is taking all the oxygen out of the room and you’re suffocating.

And what is been your response? Saying that you’re going to remain above the fray, and then coming out with silly attack ads claiming that John McCain does not know how to use a computer. Oh, heavens! Clearly, this makes him unqualified to be president!

Let’s get real, here. We’re running out of time. Even your supporters are starting to say it’s time to get angry and go negative. And if I were managing this campaign (it’s just a thought: not to mention that I have a lot of time on my hands right now, oh, up until the beginning of November or so), this is what I’d do:

First things first.  Remember that you are running against the top of the ticket, not the bottom. And with that, let’s get some new ads out there. Let’s rip that “maverick” cloak right off of McCain’s shoulders. Yes, he might have butted a few heads back in the day, but since his last run for president, he’s been dismantling that mantle by turning his back on everything he used to believe in. He was for abortion before he was against abortion. He was for Bush’s tax rebate before he was against it. And we have the videotape to prove it. And all of these clips would make a dandy little ad. Add a little voiceover that might say something like, “This guy claims to the maverick. He wants to reform Washington. So why has he spent the last eight years being just like everybody else… say, just like that Bush guy?” Oh, wait a minute. That’s already your message. But something about that is not resonating with the American people. We need to stop saying it and start showing it. Show the video clips. Show the flip-flopping. It’s something that, as a writer, has been my mantra from the first day I picked up a pen: show, don’t tell. And this campaign has been doing a hell of a lot of telling, and not a lot of showing. Show the voters who McCain really is, and show the voters exactly who you are. And not in a way that sounds like you’re lecturing. Get a voice coach pronto if you need one. Or, just study tapes of the way Bill Clinton used to address a crowd. Love him or hate him, he is damn good at that sympathy thing. Don’t get all phony about it, like John Kerry did. No windsurfing, no duck hunting, and so help me if you get into a tank I’m going to personally come down there and wrestle you out of it.

And don’t think I can’t.

Show the voters that you ain’t no brie-and Chardonnay-swilling liberal elitist. Put down that Starbucks cup and listen close. You’re just that guy from Chicago who is still the community organizer who likes to play a little one-on-one now and then. Talk to us like you talk to David Letterman, like you talk to Bill O’Reilly. Play a little one-on-one with us.

Next. Get the women out to sing your praises. You need us. I’m not just talking about sending Michelle out to do a few speaking engagements. Yes, she’s a wonderful woman, smart as a whip, an inspiring role model – but we need our own pit bull with lipstick, and it can’t be your wife. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you know what that means.

Hillary.

All right, I understand why you didn’t choose her for VP. And who knows what that choice might mean come November, but for now, you need her in the trenches. Yes, she is saying that she’s got a lot of other engagements right now. But a promise is a promise (well, except maybe where the Clintons are concerned) and she did promise to get out there and campaign for you. Call her on it. If she balks, offer her anything she wants (short of that little VP job, which is really a thankless one anyway, except that maybe one day you’ll get to be president or something). Take care of her campaign debt. Offer her a cushy job in your administration. Get down on your knees and pray. Buy her a new pantsuit. Whatever it takes, get that woman on the road praising you to the heavens and attacking the governor from Alaska. Because only a woman can get away with it. You had your little swing-state posse before – where did they go? Where’s Nancy Pelosi? Where are the others? I want to see some XX chromosomes out on the campaign trail contrasting your vision for America with Governor Palin’s and I want to see them now. Better yet, just have them focus on the top of the ticket, and do your part to take that “hockey mom” out of the headlines.

Here’s what else I want to see: more of your girls. Have Daddy take them around a bit, show them off a little. Yes, you said that we need to keep people’s children out of this race. But, if John McCain can go around saying that the nasty tone of the campaign could have been avoided if only you had agreed to tour the country like Lincoln and Douglas and have town hall meetings with him, and if the governor of Alaska can pass her newborn baby around like a political football, if she can complain that the media is exploiting her children for cheap headlines while she exploits them herself by parading them out at the Republican National Convention, then why can’t you do an event or two with little Sasha? I think just about the most adorable thing is a father with a small child, and I’m sure a lot of other women think so too.

That should be enough to keep you busy for now. And don’t forget, if you need any more ideas or even another consultant, you know where to find me.

“If You Want to Send a Message, Call Western Union.”

As a writer, and as someone who is a fan of quality television, I'm very excited when a promising new show comes along. One in which good screenwriting and characters trump cheap laughs and expensive special effects.

A few of these came out in the last couple of years that got my attention. The first was Friday Night Lights, a family drama (no, it's not just about football) set in a small town in Texas, and based on the movie of the same name. The characters were stellar. The screenplay was not overwritten to the point where I felt like certain conclusions were being shoved down my throat - one gesture, one camera's glance into a character's eyes, and I got it. And the women were tough - no pushovers, these Southern belles. Life was messy, and nothing was solved in one episode.

The second, and I think the best written show for television in the last couple of decades, was Mad Man. Relegated to cable, this show, centered around New York's advertising world in 1960, showed the "inside game" and how it affected the characters' lives.

A third, which started well (at least with a good premise), but went downhill very fast, was Swingtown, a summer replacement show that will probably not be renewed.

All three shows have fallen victim to a disease that I call agenda-itis. Most likely it happens like this: a show is so successful (or get so much buzz, or both) that the writers feel comfortable enough to slide off their shoes, loosen their brassieres (or whatever article of clothing they feel like loosening) and insert into their screenplays and into their characters' mouths whatever political and social viewpoints the writers happen to hold.

In Friday Night Lights, it happened like this: racial tensions, only glossed over in the first season, come leaping to the fore, and fall square in the lap of the team's star player. There are lots of (albeit very well acted) scenes with the character's mother where she pleads her son's case with the team's coach, then goes home and scolds her son and tells him to act like a man. Well acted, yes, but the script is a little heavy-handed. Okay, I get it. Young men raised without fathers sometimes have problems. And there is your ABC afterschool moment for today. Fortunately, Friday Night Lights, being on the ratings bubble, didn't indulge in this kind of naked pandering too often.

Unfortunately, Swingtown went for the eyeballs just about from the start. It was advertised as a family drama about the 70s, particularly among those couples who were "swinging" and what it did to the family dynamic. I expected some sort of sociological comment, as it was a turning point in American culture that could not be denied, but I didn't expect it to devolve so quickly. And to be so - well, heavy-handed would be a compliment. Let's liken it more to a sledgehammer.

In the beginning, while a little bit "soap-ish" in its overall impression, it did hit the mark for me. I got involved with the characters, and was moved by the performances of the teenage actors, who were clearly disturbed by the actions of their parents. It could be that this had something to do with the fact that I was about that age in 1976, when the show was set. Regardless, the drama quickly devolved into a sex fest of who was sleeping with whom, and who wanted to, and the kids barely got any air time except when it was their time to do a little sexual exploration of their own. The "big issues" like the women's movement were slammed at me so hard I wanted to get the number of the truck. Oh, no. One of the women's husbands lost his job. Times were tough, and times were tense, until the wife, on the advice of her shrink, decided to look for work.  This worried her husband, who by his petulant face we can all see how this affected his feelings of masculinity. And, gee whiz, in her bow blouse (note to costume designers, bow blouses didn't hit the scene until the 80s) and Farrah flip, she takes the train down to the Big Apple and gets herself a temp job. The boss patted her fanny, and we saw her face nakedly go from outrage to acceptance, and gee-whiz again, she's good at her job! She was offered an even better one - how about that - and when her husband gets a job halfway across the country, spurred on by her liberated friend - gasp - she doesn't want to go. Like I didn't see that coming from Mars.

The biggest disappointment for me has been Mad Man. I think the creators got swollen heads from all those Emmy nominations. Suddenly, the issues are jumping off the screen and hitting me in the face like random shots from Dick Cheney's hunting rifle. All right, I got it five lines of dialogue ago: these characters lived in different times. They littered. The husbands cheated on their wives. The wives pretend that nothing was wrong.  The rampant drinking that was such a part of the first year (usurped by all of the rampant smoking) had consequences, and one of the characters became an alcoholic and had to go to AA. There were many shots of him looking longingly at those bottles, then looking away.  Also, in case you didn't know it, interracial dating and getting pregnant out of wedlock used to shock people. A younger, self-entitled generation threatened those that hold the power. Children were spanked if they misbehaved, and otherwise, they were seen, but not heard. To the point where one little girl, who had to go to work with daddy on a Saturday, and left for the secretaries to babysit, got hold of somebody's glass of booze and downed it, and all the father merely noticed was that his little girl had fallen asleep on the couch. Making money changed people's values. And if a man was gay, he was not allowed to be open. He married to a woman, who sensed that something was wrong, yet they went along pretending anyway. After many scenes of the man in question looking troubled through a haze of cigarette smoke, I got it. Oh, and make him the agency's art director, just to make it a little more obvious. And by the way, he also happened to decorate the apartment he shared with his wife, and happened to do all the cooking. And look how much better off we have it now. We are all going green, gay people can get married to each other (in some states), children rule the roost, and, well, life is just so much more... different now.

And I hope someone tells the creators of the show that their agendas are showing. Or one of the best dramas on TV will become, like the setting of the show, history.

Like movie legend Samuel Goldwyn once said, "If you want to send a message, call Western Union."

And there used to be a Western Union back then, too.