'Friends' finale exposes culture of 'McMoments'
Mon May 3, 6:34 AM ET

By Linda Kaplan Thaler

This week, 40 million American lives will change forever. Their weekly routines will have one less ritual, their emotional diet one less staple. That's right: The nation's foremost circle of friends will shrink by a half-dozen, as TV bids a much-ballyhooed bon voyage to Chandler, Monica, Rachel, Ross, Phoebe and Joey.

Yes,Friends is going off the air. Ten years after first sauntering onto small screens everywhere from Bangor, Maine, to Baja, Calif., the show that many consider the sitcom's sitcom will head off to retirement with an impressive résumé of lifetime stats: 236 episodes; 55 Emmy nominations for its creators, cast and crew; global distribution to 150 territories and dubbed into a host of languages (including Czech and Polish); and roughly $1.5 billion in advertising revenue.

If that last figure isn't enough of an indication of how much Madison Avenue has grown to value the fiscal friendliness of the show's following over the years, check out this number: For the last episode, ad agencies will be shelling out $2 million per 30-second spot. Nice going-away present, wouldn't you say?

That Friends has occupied a prominent niche in popular culture is a given. Still, the whole brouhaha over the finale gives me pause. In fact, whenever I see one more Friends junkie readying her (or his) crying towel for Thursday night's fond farewell, I'm tempted to say, "Stop living a McLife."

To me, the Friends phenomenon embodies an unmistakable - and troubling - idiosyncrasy that now dominates our society: As modern technology continues to pump out tidal waves of information around the clock, there is more for us to do, only with less time to do it.

As a result, we compress our experiences into what I call "McMoments" - compact, tailor-made, mini-experiences that perfectly fit the temporal contours of our daily lives, with no assembly required. Instead of actually spending a leisurely night out with real friends, we depend on six strangers to do the work for us, enjoying their strong bonds of intimacy and sharing their never-ending romantic adventures. And all in less than 30 minutes.

Now, some would rightly say I have little room to complain. As the head of an ad agency, I am a daily practitioner of McMomentizing.

In fact, I've built my entire career around squeezing instantly memorable ideas into punchy 30-second slots. You can credit (or blame) me for such classic TV Americana as the "Kodak Moment" and the "Toys R Us Kid" song.

And yet, perhaps it's my very presence at the eye of the hurricane that gives me an unusual perspective on this emerging shift in our societal values. Just like in show business, advertising seeks to create a lightning rod that instantly connects people with one another by distilling life to its funniest, most poignant and colorful essence.

But the crucial challenge for people in my line of work is to create these McMoments in a way that punctuates life without inadvertently causing people to lose something more meaningful or fundamental along the way.

Yet whenever I hear diehard Friends fans discuss the show's characters, it reminds me of the price we pay when we don't strike the delicate balance between who we are and what we watch.

One Friends viewer recently said to me, "I've grown to love them all" (prompting me to wonder whether Phoebe was actually on this woman's speed-dial). And another gave her unflinching endorsement of two of the characters' child-rearing capabilities. "Monica has always loved children," she began, "and Chandler's a kid himself. So I think that they would be great parents." Kind of scary, right?

Unfortunately, even when Thursday night's McFriendships fade into McMemories, we'll still struggle with the ongoing Cliffs-noting of our lives.

Take last month's Easter celebration and the way Mel Gibson's wildly popular film The Passion of the Christ dominated the holiday buzz. Where once Easter was all about gathering around the dinner table for an authentic, shared experience among loved ones, millions of Americans instead chose to spend their time cloistered in dark theaters, silently watching a movie instead of embracing family and friends, prayer and personal devotion.

Then there's that cable news anchor, Fox News' Shepard Smith, who delivers his broadcast in shorthand, erasing all verbs from his script in order to pack the widest breadth of information possible into the narrowest window of time.

Is this the end of life as we know it?

Not necessarily. Rather than believe we've succumbed to the inevitable repackaging of our world, I choose to be optimistic, viewing McMoments simply as bridges that enable us to embrace our most precious feelings and thoughts in a way that lets us continually re-create and re-experience them.

But we must remember: They are only bridges and not the destination.

After all, if someone tells you that something is "the real thing," chances are it's really not.

Linda Kaplan Thaler is CEO of the Kaplan Thaler Group advertising agency and co-author with Robin Koval of Bang! Getting Your Message Heard in a Noisy World.