9:00 The firm no longer has the Lucky Strike account. I wonder if they still make Lucky Strikes? They did, like, seven years ago. It would be kind of sad to have that be a plot point if the company couldn’t even stay alive.
9:01 I wish the internet hadn’t retreated from me. I’d love to be able to google Lucky Strikes and see how they managed to fare without the advertising help of Sterling Cooper Draper Price. I mean, it’s not a real firm. There is no Don Draper. I mean, there’s also not a Don Draper. It’s Jon Hamm, the actor, who probably totally invested in Lucky Strikes. That’s a good idea.
9:07 I call my stock broker to see if I can invest in Lucky Strikes. He reminds me that it’s probably not a good idea to tie up so much of my money in vice stocks, especially with the rapid decline in smokers, and besides, it’s 9:00 pm and I’m interrupting Mad Men. I fire him on the spot.
9:09 Man. I could use a new broker. I hope the internet makes friends with me again soon.
9:30 I draft an angry letter to a local pizza place, which does not carry anchovies. What do they keep around for jokes about how nobody orders them? I think that every business needs to keep a close eye on its comedy potential. After all: circuit city was almost never intentionally funny, and now they’re closed. This is not a coincidence.
9:40 I call my back-up broker to see if I can arrange for some of the money in my Cayman Islands account to slowly make its way back up here through my shell corporations so I can revive the Circuit City franchise, this time to add mime gear to their inventory. My broker reminds me that the name is still owned and in use, and that no one else thinks mimes are funny. I fire him.
10:15 After a long time spent in the phone tree at Mimes Sans Frontieres to inquire about a tax-deductible donation to their wonderful organization to ensure that even the poor and underdeveloped are permitted access to all of the best miming equipment, I am connected with the president of the organization. Unfortunately, after seven minutes of aggravated shouting, I am reminded why traditionally my conversations with Monsieur Encarde Petit are held over Skype.
10:28 I call my accountants and have them add to my existing pledge with MSF, with a note in the memo field saying that it is specifically for top-shelf miming equipment.
10:31 I have a brief second of internet availability, which I squander looking up the actual price of a jaunty beret.
10:33 Monsieur Encarde Petit is not available on Skype, so I can’t ask him if there are any mimes that smoke Lucky Strikes. I bet he’s watching Mad Men as well. Everybody loves Mad Men.
10:35 I call my television agent and have him copyright a show called Everybody Loves Mad Men, about a chain-smoking mime who lives next door to his parents and has devoted his entire field of study to invisible womanizing, and also invisible drinking. I expect it will be a huge hit, and I can funnel the entire proceeds into MSF’s fund for fake microphones. The last time I saw a mime, his fake microphone was extremely poorly-maintained, and badly needed replaced.
10:38 Apparently this season is not going to be devoted to James Brown and the Famous Flames Sing Christmas Songs. Television writers are so stupid.
10:41 I wonder if James Brown ever considered the benefit of using a fake microphone. “Sweet Little Baby Boy” is split into two parts on side 1 of James Brown and the Famous Flames Sing Christmas Songs. That doesn’t make any sense.
10:47 I spend a long time in the phone tree of R.J. Smith, James Brown biographer. I bet he would know why they didn’t just record the song in one part, especially since there isn’t a side break to screw it up. He never does answer, which is typical. He’s probably also watching Mad Men.
10:49 I wonder if R.J. Smith and Monsieur Encarde Petit are watching Mad Men together without me? That would be a real slap in the face, given the amount of time and money I’ve spent helping Monsieur Encarde Petit with his noble purpose. I’d probably charitably help R.J. Smith out, too, but he doesn’t appear to have his own foundation. If only the internet would stop receding like the ocean before Moses every time I wanted to use it, I would have the answers to all of my questions.
10:51 It occurs to me that James Brown is literally in a box right now. That’s probably why R.J. Smith and Monsieur Encarde Petit are together: they’re studying technique. I write on a post-it note to remember to google R.J. Smith’s interest in mimes, to see if we can work out some sort of funding agreement for this new undead mime initiative. I’ve got some ideas.
10:54 after conducting a thought experiment, I realized that we’d have to spend a ton of money on the marketing campaign for the undead mime initiative, because otherwise people would just go on and on about zombies some more, and I’d hate to think that I’d contributed a single iota to the constant cultural zombie discussion.
10:59 OH MAN WHAT A BOMBSHELL.
Well that was it, folks. As you can see, the internet and I have made friends again, and I’m happy to announce that as I write this, Mimes Sans Frontieres has begun their preliminary research into an undead mime program. I couldn’t have done it without you, Mad Men.