What a surprisingly sweet ending, down to the very last drop.
The "Mad Men" finale was far from what I was expecting, but I'd expect nothing less Matthew Weiner and company. It wasn't the most riveting episode of the season (that honor would go to the penultimate episode where Betty finds out she has cancer), but it tied up all the loose ends while giving a wink that all of Don's soul-searching could unravel at any moment.
The episode begins with Don in the salt flats testing out the latest hot rods. All that comes to a screeching halt when he talks to Sally and discovers Betty is dying from lung cancer.
He then calls Betty, but she tells him not to come home and not to take care of the boys. "I want to keep things as normal as possible," she tells him. "You not being here is a part of that." Harsh.
He predictably drinks himself into oblivion, sobers up -- relatively speaking -- and drives to California to Anna Draper's niece's house.
Don gets dragged to a hippie retreat, the last place I'd imagine him to go. But the yoga and group therapy sessions with an idyllic beach background make it the perfect place for him to find his inner peace. It's Shangri-La for screw-ups.
Stephanie, like Don, has made several mistakes. She got knocked up and discovered motherhood wasn't for her. So, she gave her child to the father's parents.
"You can put this behind you. It will get easier as you move forward," he tells Stephanie, echoing the advice he gave to Peggy years earlier when she gave her up baby.
But Peggy and Stephanie aren't the same person. Not even close. "I don't think you're right about that," she replies.
She leaves the next morning without saying goodbye, taking his car. Don's always had abandonment issues, thanks to his own dysfunctional family. His mother died during childbirth, his father died when he was young and his stepmother was abusive and worked in a whorehouse.
The only family he had left was Stephanie, so this departure was especially crushing.
"People just come and go and nobody says goodbye," he says hopelessly. On the surface he's referring to the hippie retreat's laid-back policy, but he truly means life in general.
In a last ditch effort, he calls Peggy and admits, "I took another man's name and made nothing of it."
She tells him that's not true and he can always come back to McCann-Erickson. The Coca-Cola account is waiting there for his inspirational copy.
"I only called because I realized I never said goodbye to you," he says before he hangs up and collapses on the ground.
It seems like it's the end for Don, and he'll take his life just like his Lane or brother Adam before him. That is, until a woman leading a seminar takes him to a group therapy session.
For a second, we think Don will go to the empty chair to talk, but instead, another man takes the seat. Dressed in a sweater and collared shirt, he's the only business professional there other than Don.
And just like Don, he has a job and a family, but he doesn't find happiness at the office or at home. No one notices him, and people just look through them. The man starts laughing, then the laughter turns into tears.
Suddenly, Don walks over to him, hugs him and starts crying with him. Later, Don is meditating with the ocean crashing in the background. (Don, meditating, not self-medicating. What a world!)
He recites "om" with the rest of the group, then we see a smile on his face. At last he's found it: pure bliss.
Until a hippie, good-vibes Coca-Cola commercial comes on,the famous "I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing" one. Genius.
The ending was a surprise -- a happy surprise, at that. Does that mean Don came out of retirement to write that commercial? That would make sense. No one else at McCann-Erickson is that in touch with their chakras to come up with with an idea like that. (In real life, McCann-Erickson created the ad in 1971.
But even if the ad was volleyed to Peggy or another copywriter, ending the series on that commercial showed that Don's life is always tied to the advertising and commercialism. It's a button he can't turn off.
Joan also can't ignore her passion to work. She plans to start a production company, and offers Peggy the deal of a lifetime. She'll be the head writer at Joan's production company, and they won't have to answer to anyone.
No more glass ceilings, no revolting sexist remarks, just two ambitious women taking care of business and blazing the trail for future female CEOs.
It's just what Peggy's wanted: a partnership at her own agency with her name on the door. Or maybe it's just what we wanted for her.