Remember when the entire USA went to see and fell in love with Animal House?
John Belushi, gone too soon (speaking of "Johns"). I think this was the first socio-cultural introduction for most of the public to the Greek world of frats and sororities. And boy did it look like fun! And also, kinda dangerous...but you know, in a fun way! We got to see Kevin Bacon for the first time. And Kevin Bacon "paddled" for the first time. And sadly the last time. I know I'm sure-fired ready to see Mr. Bacon paddled once again on the Big Screen. Or the small screen. Or spanked. Or cropped. Or quirted. Hey, here's an idea. Another entry in the Shades of Grey saga. This time, Christian Grey gives up all the ladies in his life to become the protege to The International Spank Master, played by none other than Mr. Kevin Bacon. In the inevitable "Student Becomes the Master" scene, we become privy to the Grand Spanking Ceremony where Kevin is at the bare-palmed mercy of (in a surprise recast): Jake Gyllenhaal.
But Animal House was fun. It was kid's play when it came to fraternity hazing. Nobody dies in Animal House. Once we all became familiar with frats via this movie and sororities (through perhaps The Initiation of Sarah?) we all exponentially became aware of hazing and how hazing could get out of hand. It wasn't just the fun bum-whacking with the naughty tingles...it was shit so out of control that kids would die. Mostly boys. Sometimes from something expected like alcohol poisoning or alcohol related accidents or just flat out idiotic choices. But it could also happen from something as seemingly innocent as drinking water. These events, you could say, were few and far between; but then they seemed to become more and a lot less between. My husband was in SAE in Tennessee (THE SOUTH) in the 80's. This could have been some sort of perfect storm of that lifestyle. Certainly the 80's, when "Greek Life" was at some kind of fever pitch and more or less unregulated and unsupervised. I mean, it really took something like a kid dying for there to be any clapback; but even then it didn't amount to much. The Greek system continued on. And continues to continue on. And even now, with all this awareness of hazing and new laws and punishments and so on and so forth; tragedies still happen. Which really makes me wonder how in 1990 an event could have happened in a frat, that was so severe, it led to prison sentences and the UTAustin chapter of Sigma Nu actually closing down. Which makes me think that what happened that night in November of 1990 was maybe much worse than what has been disclosed (which doesn't seem like a lot; and which also seems shrouded in secrecy to this day).
I'm not going to get into, much, what is known of the gory details, Jon. In a nutshell, in November of 1990 you would have been a sophomore at The University of Texas at Austin. You were in the Sigma Nu fraternity. I guess if they had a house, you would've lived in it. So, you're a brother and I'm sure it was Hell Week that November or whatever they called it; when "pledges" are put through their paces before they can "get in." Different frats have different traditions and rituals. One of the common ones is "the pledge paddle." My husband still has his. He had to get all the signatures of the older brothers. They didn't make it easy. They put the guys through all kinds of shit to get the signatures. Paddle signatures are pretty innocuous; but the paddle itself is not. It's a hefty plank of wood with a handle.
I'm not going to get into, much, what is known of the gory details, Jon. In a nutshell, in November of 1990 you would have been a sophomore at The University of Texas at Austin. You were in the Sigma Nu fraternity. I guess if they had a house, you would've lived in it. So, you're a brother and I'm sure it was Hell Week that November or whatever they called it; when "pledges" are put through their paces before they can "get in." Different frats have different traditions and rituals. One of the common ones is "the pledge paddle." My husband still has his. He had to get all the signatures of the older brothers. They didn't make it easy. They put the guys through all kinds of shit to get the signatures. Paddle signatures are pretty innocuous; but the paddle itself is not. It's a hefty plank of wood with a handle.
And yes, you could quite easily kill someone with it.
And what did you do with your Sigma Nu paddle? Well ALLEGEDLY you hit a pledge with it so hard he nearly lost a kidney.
Yes, we have to say ALLEGEDLY about all of this because as I mentioned, the hard facts of all of it seem to be rather soft. This is what I know:
A pledge named Mark Allen Sanders accused you, Jon Hamm and several other Sigma Nu brothers of a hazing so severe his spine was fractured, his kidney injured and his pants were set on fire and he had to "blow out" the flames with his breath. ALLEGEDLY, much of this; particularly at your hands, Jon Hamm, (allegedly). In particular the paddle incident and some creative use of a hammer that seemed to go above and beyond the usual threshold of cruel and unusual frat hijinks. It seems that you and the other brothers were demanding Mark Sanders to recount your various and sundry nick-names which is certainly a feasible fraternity shenanigan. When he couldn't remember yours in particular, Jon; you ALLEGEDLY claimed one of your nicknames was "M.C. Hammer" (I think I can guess...) and when he couldn't remember it; you ALLEGEDLY grew extremely angry and then produced a hammer from your sleeve, hooked the claw behind his scrotum (he was wearing jeans, thankfully) and led him around the room by it. Did you premed--err--pre-plan this or did the hammer just happen to be in the room--allegedly?
This is really interesting to me. I really just learned about all of this. And then the other day, this commercial aired:
And what did you do with your Sigma Nu paddle? Well ALLEGEDLY you hit a pledge with it so hard he nearly lost a kidney.
Yes, we have to say ALLEGEDLY about all of this because as I mentioned, the hard facts of all of it seem to be rather soft. This is what I know:
A pledge named Mark Allen Sanders accused you, Jon Hamm and several other Sigma Nu brothers of a hazing so severe his spine was fractured, his kidney injured and his pants were set on fire and he had to "blow out" the flames with his breath. ALLEGEDLY, much of this; particularly at your hands, Jon Hamm, (allegedly). In particular the paddle incident and some creative use of a hammer that seemed to go above and beyond the usual threshold of cruel and unusual frat hijinks. It seems that you and the other brothers were demanding Mark Sanders to recount your various and sundry nick-names which is certainly a feasible fraternity shenanigan. When he couldn't remember yours in particular, Jon; you ALLEGEDLY claimed one of your nicknames was "M.C. Hammer" (I think I can guess...) and when he couldn't remember it; you ALLEGEDLY grew extremely angry and then produced a hammer from your sleeve, hooked the claw behind his scrotum (he was wearing jeans, thankfully) and led him around the room by it. Did you premed--err--pre-plan this or did the hammer just happen to be in the room--allegedly?
This is really interesting to me. I really just learned about all of this. And then the other day, this commercial aired:
I found this super strange. Did some ad agency also find about the events in November of 1990 and come up with this? I truly have to wonder.
Okay, I get it. Young boys whose skulls haven't fused yet. Alcohol bringing about heretofore unknown personality changes. Peer pressure. Pressure cooker atmosphere. Young men willing to do ANYTHING to belong. Things get out of hand. Yes, I get it. Shit happens; especially in this truly toxic all-male, cult-like atmosphere. But here's what I really don't get, Jon. Your response to this when you were finally asked about it in a public forum (that being an Esquire magazine interview) was the following (and this is directly from that article*):
Okay, I get it. Young boys whose skulls haven't fused yet. Alcohol bringing about heretofore unknown personality changes. Peer pressure. Pressure cooker atmosphere. Young men willing to do ANYTHING to belong. Things get out of hand. Yes, I get it. Shit happens; especially in this truly toxic all-male, cult-like atmosphere. But here's what I really don't get, Jon. Your response to this when you were finally asked about it in a public forum (that being an Esquire magazine interview) was the following (and this is directly from that article*):
A "bummer."
A bummer?
"...a bummer of a thing that happened."
Exactly who was it a bummer for?
I mean, it seems like it was a bummer for you Jon. Certainly not Mark Allen, who it seems is lucky to have gotten out of that situation with his life. And not merely a bummer for your frat bros, who did jail-time (this is, I believe, an undisputed fact).
A bummer?
"...a bummer of a thing that happened."
Exactly who was it a bummer for?
I mean, it seems like it was a bummer for you Jon. Certainly not Mark Allen, who it seems is lucky to have gotten out of that situation with his life. And not merely a bummer for your frat bros, who did jail-time (this is, I believe, an undisputed fact).
This is a bummer, Jon:
Just ask Kevin Bacon.
I guess those quotes from Esquire are your only and official response to this subject. And it's quite the dismissal. Among the problems I have with it is...well...all of it, really. First, you say it was a "big situation." But it wasn't. It was a very small situation. One house...I'm guessing maybe around twenty to thirty guys? A situation in a frat house couldn't be smaller or more intimate. You say it was all "sensationalized." Jon, it shut down a frat house. People went to jail. It seems to me that it was minimalized, if anything. You are so quick to say that you were acquitted and not convicted. Some might see this as worming out of it with barely a slap on the wrist. How quick you were, Jon, to absolve yourself of any guilt or responsibility. And that instant refusal to take any responsibility; or accountability or any kind of blame makes me fear something. It makes me fear that you might be a narcissist Jon. Because in my experience with narcissists (and I've had more than my fair share) the common thread amongst all of them was the absolute refusal to ever accept blame for something. To admit responsibility. To acknowledge fault. I would post a NARCISSIST CHECKLIST for you but it would be pointless. Narcissists seem to be incurable and even if they realize they have a problem, they don't care. It's actually quite sad. And I hope it's not true for you. And if it isn't, then you have a choice to own up to these past actions, accept responsibility and enact some kind of atonement or reparations. Perhaps a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT about the dangers of HAZING. Do you know how much good that could do, coming from you? It could actually save lives.
Here's one of the accompanying fashion photos from the Esquire article:
I guess those quotes from Esquire are your only and official response to this subject. And it's quite the dismissal. Among the problems I have with it is...well...all of it, really. First, you say it was a "big situation." But it wasn't. It was a very small situation. One house...I'm guessing maybe around twenty to thirty guys? A situation in a frat house couldn't be smaller or more intimate. You say it was all "sensationalized." Jon, it shut down a frat house. People went to jail. It seems to me that it was minimalized, if anything. You are so quick to say that you were acquitted and not convicted. Some might see this as worming out of it with barely a slap on the wrist. How quick you were, Jon, to absolve yourself of any guilt or responsibility. And that instant refusal to take any responsibility; or accountability or any kind of blame makes me fear something. It makes me fear that you might be a narcissist Jon. Because in my experience with narcissists (and I've had more than my fair share) the common thread amongst all of them was the absolute refusal to ever accept blame for something. To admit responsibility. To acknowledge fault. I would post a NARCISSIST CHECKLIST for you but it would be pointless. Narcissists seem to be incurable and even if they realize they have a problem, they don't care. It's actually quite sad. And I hope it's not true for you. And if it isn't, then you have a choice to own up to these past actions, accept responsibility and enact some kind of atonement or reparations. Perhaps a PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT about the dangers of HAZING. Do you know how much good that could do, coming from you? It could actually save lives.
Here's one of the accompanying fashion photos from the Esquire article:
Because, of course it's by Tom Ford. A leather biker jacket by Tom Ford. Hmmmm...gotta say...seems kinda gay. Here is the title of that article:*
So this article is from 8 years ago; but have you successfully broken free from Don Draper, Jon? Or is that character now so associated with you that there's no way you can? Or was Don Draper actually Jon Hamm to begin with and it was simply some kind of casting fait accompli? I've noticed in a lot of your recent appearances you've been wearing clothing that is very evocative of the early 1960's; e.g. The Ritz Island commercial. You seem to be sliding back into the Draper persona. I was thinking about your recent commercials for Minute Made "Zero Sugar." Let's look at them again:
In the first spot, you are again playing yourself. Now is the other guy supposed to be your actual agent or manager or endorsement deal broker? Again, since you are "you" here, I have to assume that this is your agent. This guy is so douchey he makes Mark Walberg seem sincere. Not only is he an Uber-douche, he's so empty and callous he makes Don Draper seem huggable. He's proposing that you sign on to advertise "Minute Maid Zero Sugar"...which is...what? Low calorie lemonade. This commercial is so utterly empty it can't even be bothered to inform the consumer what the beverage tastes like. What flavor it even is. The script is a bunch of blank pages. You are asking how you can create a character from nothingness when the character is actually you. Jon Hamm. The commercial is implying that you, Jon Hamm, are nothingness. That you are as empty as Don Draper was. That you will sign on to be an utter blank. And then there's that chilling empty laugh. That hollow phony laugh that says: none of this fucking matters. This is just about being in front of a camera and making money. It doesn't even matter what this shit tastes like. I don't know about you, but I find this existentially terrifying. It is saying you are such a non-entity, Jon, that it doesn't even matter if you even do anything. And then, in the second spot, it's even worse, if that's possible. And it is possible, because I just found a long form of this ad and this idea of BEING AND NOTHINGNESS is pushed even further to the point where they show you (dressed much like Don Draper) on an empty sound-stage because even though they hired you, they didn't actually need your presence for the spot. Jon, did you not wonder what the point of this was? Did the ad makers recognize something in you that you can't seem to realize? I mean it's insulting. You're being presented as an existential void. A black hole of non-entityness. You've been ghosted by the ghost of a fictional ghost.
Oh, so it's lemonade. Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope in all of this Jon. Lemons are loaded with not just vitamin C, but all kinds of symbolism.
Oh, so it's lemonade. Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope in all of this Jon. Lemons are loaded with not just vitamin C, but all kinds of symbolism.
Perhaps we can find some purification in here Jon. I have always loved lemons, since childhood. The taste, the smell, the way they look. Their color. I love that song, "The Lemon Tree." Let's take a listen, shall we?
Wasn't that lovely, Jon? Bittersweet, much like lemonade...and I suppose, Minute Maid Zero Sugar.
And I promised I was going to say some nice things about you Jon...so here we go.
During the height of Mad Men Mania, Banana Republic did a tie-in with the show:
And I promised I was going to say some nice things about you Jon...so here we go.
During the height of Mad Men Mania, Banana Republic did a tie-in with the show:
They even had a contest where you could win a Mad Men wardrobe worth like, maybe 5 grand, if I recall correctly. All you had to do was submit photos of yourself in your best Mad Men inspired look. The competition was fierce! You could actually see the competition because the photos submitted were all posted online. This was my official entry:
As a matter of fact, I was so inspired by this idea that I took a lot of photographs. A lot. Dozens...perhaps upwards of one hundred. Basically of me posing as you Jon Hamm, as Don Draper. And they were some of the best self portraits I have ever done. I must say I never looked better! YOU INSPIRED ME JON HAMM. Sadly, I somehow managed to delete nearly every single one of these photos from what I call the MAD MEN SESH. Just a few survive. I hope to this day they are stuck somewhere in the drive of an old laptop; but I don't think they are. And I think this story has a very valuable lesson in it about VANITY.
But the contest itself was something of a sham. These incredibly creative photos, by not just me but a lot of fans of the show, were not assessed creatively. The winner was not picked due to artistic merit. No. It became clear that some people had their photos submitting over and over again by some kind of algorithm. The man who won the contest wasn't even done up in Mad Men style. It was a joke, really.
Also, Jon, one of my most favorite dramatic scenes from any filmed media was from Mad Men and you were in the scene. It was the time you took your young wife to Howard Johnson's, so sure she would love the orange sherbet. Let's take a look:
I can't find the exact moment in the scene; but we can see some of it here...
But the contest itself was something of a sham. These incredibly creative photos, by not just me but a lot of fans of the show, were not assessed creatively. The winner was not picked due to artistic merit. No. It became clear that some people had their photos submitting over and over again by some kind of algorithm. The man who won the contest wasn't even done up in Mad Men style. It was a joke, really.
Also, Jon, one of my most favorite dramatic scenes from any filmed media was from Mad Men and you were in the scene. It was the time you took your young wife to Howard Johnson's, so sure she would love the orange sherbet. Let's take a look:
I can't find the exact moment in the scene; but we can see some of it here...
Your reaction to her dismissal of something you just assumed she would love because you love it, is so real. It's almost like you're not acting. As a matter of fact, I am going to find that exact moment and post it in an addendum. That's how much faith I still have in you Jon. I will share something back that you shared with me. From one actor to another.
So there we are. It seems we are at some kind of crossroads. Well, at least I am. Did you ever do anything with your English degree Jon? Do you write? Perhaps you could write an article about that night in November of 1990. An apologia of sorts. An examination of something you, at least, never seem to have examined. I bet People magazine would publish it. They love that stuff. I can see the copy on the cover now: Jon Hamm Wants to Tell You Something; or something along those lines. I think you kind of owe it to everyone who has supported you in your career. And maybe you have apologized to Mark Allen Sanders; but I don't think it would hurt to put it in writing for all of us to see.
So there we are. It seems we are at some kind of crossroads. Well, at least I am. Did you ever do anything with your English degree Jon? Do you write? Perhaps you could write an article about that night in November of 1990. An apologia of sorts. An examination of something you, at least, never seem to have examined. I bet People magazine would publish it. They love that stuff. I can see the copy on the cover now: Jon Hamm Wants to Tell You Something; or something along those lines. I think you kind of owe it to everyone who has supported you in your career. And maybe you have apologized to Mark Allen Sanders; but I don't think it would hurt to put it in writing for all of us to see.
EPILOGUE:
MARK "L." WALBERG, self-proclaimed bringer together of loving couples, went on to host another game show called The Moment of Truth:
MARK "L." WALBERG, self-proclaimed bringer together of loving couples, went on to host another game show called The Moment of Truth:
Considered one of the worst TV gameshows ever to have been produced and aired; this lie-detector based "entertainment" famously destroyed at least one family. Mr. Walberg continues to host Antiques Roadshow.
MEGYN KELLY
Miss Kelly continues to flip-flop her politics according to what's most advantageous for herself; put her nose where it doesn't belong in the lives of celebrity women she seems to be jealous of and run her big fat mouth ad-nauseum while sporting a hairdo she's way too old for. I call it "The Playboy Mansion '97." As in: "Hey Megyn...Crystal Hefner called from 1997...she wants her hair back." And some call it sad. (CAT HISS SFX).
MEGYN KELLY
Miss Kelly continues to flip-flop her politics according to what's most advantageous for herself; put her nose where it doesn't belong in the lives of celebrity women she seems to be jealous of and run her big fat mouth ad-nauseum while sporting a hairdo she's way too old for. I call it "The Playboy Mansion '97." As in: "Hey Megyn...Crystal Hefner called from 1997...she wants her hair back." And some call it sad. (CAT HISS SFX).
PEGGY OLSON:
After being acquitted in the death of Don Draper, Peggy left her advertising life behind and became a nun.
After being acquitted in the death of Don Draper, Peggy left her advertising life behind and became a nun.
MARY AND MARC:
Nobody knows. They won two hundred dollars for their date, which is worth about twice that today, in 2026. Were foot massages traded? Were pedicures purchased? Where did they go for their date? Why didn't that cheap-ass show pay for their date and let them keep the extra cash? Like, how about dinner at L'Orangerie? Or Lawry's Prime Rib, home of the world famous Spinning Salad? That would have been a fun date!
Nobody knows. They won two hundred dollars for their date, which is worth about twice that today, in 2026. Were foot massages traded? Were pedicures purchased? Where did they go for their date? Why didn't that cheap-ass show pay for their date and let them keep the extra cash? Like, how about dinner at L'Orangerie? Or Lawry's Prime Rib, home of the world famous Spinning Salad? That would have been a fun date!
And what kind of show has a fucking drawing for the grand prize? No wonder it went off the air. Did Mary and Marc go to Jamaica? Did they fall in love? Did they get married? The world may never know...hello young lovers, Mary and Marc, wherever you are!
ADDENDUM FORTHCOMING
And now, a final word from our sponsor, FAB detergent with Lemon Freshened Borax, which somehow seems appropriate...
ADDENDUM FORTHCOMING
And now, a final word from our sponsor, FAB detergent with Lemon Freshened Borax, which somehow seems appropriate...
CFR 7/9/2026