Blasphemy! The New Sunday

Image: Warming Glow

Happy Palm Sunday!  An exciting purchase and the looming pinnacle of the church year started swirling together in my head this morning, making me analyze what a Sunday has come to mean.

I can almost feel my father's chest tightening as I begin to write this.  A panic pouring over him like bath water in a baby's eyes as the Divine alerts him to the words of my sacrilege from three states away.  Each tap of the keys, another stab to his God fearing soul.  He is a fervent Catholic who regularly attends weekly mass and I represent the red-horned heathen that strayed from the flock.  It's not that I don't believe, I just choose not to attend a repetitive sanctioned ceremony to outwardly display my beliefs.  While he looks at it as a lack of sacrifice and respect to God, I see it as streamlining and efficient time management... masked as laziness.  I package all the praying, singing and kneeling up, strap some ambition to it and approach the world each day trying to be a good, honorable, respectful person.  He says - "that doesn't count".

Let's face it, my decades in purgatory are locked in and not attending mass is the least of my worries.  My generation is wrought with sin and living in NYC only doubles it.  I live in the mecca of retail and consumerism - even St. Patrick's Cathedral has a gift shop.  Consider the entire city a big Solomon's Temple and the merchants have long term iron-clad leases.  We can't leave our apartments without coveting our neighbor's possessions or... errr, "wife".  My lust for material items and women would send me to confession - Every. Single. Day.  Probably more than once.

However, if Christ is to return - he is going to need a style upgrade and I'm praying that this can buy my ticket back into the pearly gates.  I'll be the first to admit, Jesus is one rugged fellow - the beard, the ripped physique and those carpentry skills... if and when he returns, I'm going to bet he's setting up shop in Brooklyn.  I can see the sign of the new "IT" restaurant now - "Loaves and Fishes" - drawing hipsters in by the droves with a BYOW policy... "you bring the water, we'll take care of the rest".  I mean, his disciples were the original Urban Woodsman.  But Lord, come on! The mandals, the blousy robes, the long hair?  Pick up a GQ once in a while... this is NOT how a Savior should be attired. Swap out the robes for some plaid button downs or airy Irish linen.  How about a nice pair of Wolverines and burnished brogues?  See if Dad can swing a divine intervention at Tom Ford.  Don't underestimate the power of a good suit in selling eternal salvation.  Look at Don Draper. He could sell hair gel to a bald man.

"I need your help..."
"I'll tell you what, you overlook my infidelity, 
I'll teach you how to look this cool. Deal?"

With this being said, Sunday's are still religious in my apartment but for blasphemous reasons.  During the summer, once the clock strikes 10 p.m. silence is to be observed as the celebration begins.  Although we are still a few months away, it's Mad Men time once again in the land of Rugged/Refined.  Sterling Cooper my Cathedral and Don Draper my officiant.  Season 3 has arrived on DVD and I can't wait to re-watch every advertising-related, flannel-wearing, chain-smoking, bourbon-soaked second of it.  While I have to wait until July for new episodes, reliving past seasons will certainly fill the void until Season 4 arrives.

A tryptic of envy.  

Days worth of entertainment.

I find it no coincidence that the show normally airs on Sunday - it's devilish plots filled with questionable morals and tragic figures are the perfect counter to the piousness of the day.  Despite their sinister lives and foul misgivings, we could all learn something from Draper and the gang about style and persuasion... even you Son Of Man.  Crisp white shirts (masking their dark hearts), clean-lined suits, skinny ties, cuff links, pomade and fedoras - if biblical figures had dressed like this, I might have paid more attention.

"What are you looking at? Don't judge me."
"I haven't said a word, have I?"

In many ways Mad Men and Christianity are one in the same and deserve to share the day.  Advertising and religion are both about the power of persuasion... relying on a story to communicate a point, be it salvation or "brighter brights and whiter whites".  We, as materialistic consumers are subjected to the Drapers of the world telling us what we need and, in essence Jesus and the disciples were too - spiritual ad men spreading the word via "PR" to those in search of something higher to believe in.  Their hope being to forge a connection with a brand.  Jesus was the original Orvil Reddenbacher, a spokesman and logo of his own brand.  A symbol of redemption, forgiveness, compassion and sacrifice for millions of followers.  Without His early marketing efforts, He may have simply been considered weird, odd, or unbalanced - His story lost over the years to other "fanatics" with a better campaign.

Religions are probably the most successful campaigns in history and they flourished without modern communication.  Passion, writing and oratory were their main outlets... skills used by Draper himself:  Kodak Carousel Pitch (I still get goosebumps watching him speak).  Just like Draper's pitch, Jesus and his disciples had to captivate and elicit an emotional connection in their audience.  They had the "new" philosophy but needed to create the sentimental bond.  People had been fed belief systems since the dawn of time - the wheel that the client speaks of - all He and the disciples had to do was sell the Christian "carousel".

Draper and Jesus.  Closer than one might think.

My soapbox is wavering so I must step down.  Evening is upon us and I am eager to get episodes underway.  I must prepare my chalice... three fingers of Balvenie... my cup runneth over.

Of all the DVD season sets, I am enamored by the season three graphic.  Stark yet glistening, it takes its style cues from the show itself.  Easily the most refined cover of my collection.

 Through the eyes of a mid-day Mad Man.
How did so many good campaigns come from so many inebriated minds?

Pray for me.