The Best Things in Life are Free

by Nandia Foteini Vlachou

Perfection is difficult to explain – or describe. Yesterday, I saw a girl on the bus with a “Perfect is Boring” t-shirt. Well, that is wrong. Because perfect can by definition only be one thing: perfect. There is no room in it for anything else. It’s a bit like awesome, the real thing, and not the red-and-yellow socks and hotdogs awesome: it’s difficult to retain a sense of its original meaning. I am not being a stickler for accuracy. The thought occurred to me while watching the last scene of the mid-season finale of Mad Men. It was perfect. Matthew Weiner, prince of writers, had done it again. I am still unsure why the out of character (for the show, not for Bert Cooper/Robert Morse) move of inserting a musical number worked the way it did. But it did – perfectly. Please, do(n’t) take my word for it:

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