It has been a way for me to connect with things I know about but don't remember experiencing.

I've never quite understood I'm a child of the fill in name of decade here thing.

Born in the 60s, my most concrete memories come from the 70s — Watergate, the death of Elvis, the demise of The Beatles, the gas shortage and the seemingly endless loops of bad music on AM stations until I got that treasured FM converter and could listen to album stations.

The connection I have with AMC's Mad Men runs deep. It has satisfied my retro inclinations, given me a broader range of music to appreciate and those connections to events that were vague topics of conversation amongst the grownups.

I'm supposed to remember the moon landing, but I don't. I'm supposed to remember the Reverend King assassination and Bobby Kennedy's but I don't.

I have vague recollections of hearing something about Vietnam, hippies, grass and acid. That's about it.

My firmest recollection is a love of the Monkees and those albums that somehow disappeared, along with that mod phase I went through that drove my parents absolutely crazy.

Mad Men helped me fill those memory gaps, documenting Cronkite's emotional announcement that JFK had been shot and his coverage of the moon landing.

It has served as my history lesson on the Cuban Missile Crisis and the dread and fear that we would all be blown into pieces. That's why there's still a house in Murfreesboro that has a bomb shelter.

On Sunday the show I have probably quoted from most in these opinion pieces comes to an end. I will miss it, but when it first came on I had a hunch it would take us through the beginning of the 70s when cigarette ads, which became one of the main focuses of the show, ended.

I have my thoughts on how the show will end. Last Sunday's episode was about absolution and with the exception of Betty Draper and her cancer diagnosis, I think it will end on a high note.

That was one of the things that got me caught up in the show, the characters and conflicts, the plot twists and flashbacks.

It was that and the style, the hats, the suits, and, of course, the word play with the ads because I do like playing with words.

In the end, I think Mad Men is like reading an Ayn Rand novel without the struggle of having to chew on every word and thought. It's about looking out for yourself and doing what you have to survive in this world.

The universe is indifferent, main character Don Draper said. There is no big lie, no intricate system to figure out other than standing tall for yourself.

It is a tough philosophy to swallow in an age now where everyone feels they are entitled to something. Mad Men celebrated that old school worth ethic, that it's not about what the world owes you, but what you can do to conquer your little slice of the world.

As the final episode airs Sunday night, I will sit back and relish it, revisit it on Netflix because I always catch something I haven't before.

Some of the most sterling episodes have centered on events that I was just too young remember. The emotional The Suitcase episode centered on the Ali-Liston fight. The episodes dealing with the JFK assassination helped me understand even as a nation mourned, life went on.

The show has dealt with the tumultuous problems our nation encountered during the Civil Rights Movement, those who sympathized with the plight and those numb to it.

I could go on about the dual identity of Draper and how I have sympathized with his character over the past seven seasons. I'll leave that to the real critics, however, if there is such a thing.

I just know that for those past seven seasons it has helped fill the gap on the things I should remember as a child who was born in the 60s but was way too young to remember and for that I am appreciative of Matt Weiner bringing such a fine show to my television screen — Lance Martin

Lance Martin is editor and publisher of rrspin.com