The Horror of Daytime TV- Pity the Poor SAHMs

It's summertime, which in the immortal words of Otto on The Simpsons means "three months of Spaghetti-O's and Daytime TV!" It also means that I get a chance to see a certain type of commercial that during the school year I would miss- the type aimed at Stay-At-Home moms. The commercial I'm going to snark on today played during "The View," which was unfortunately playing on the only television at the gym. Though it makes for good material, I think I would have rather missed this one.

It's a cartoon. Lots of daytime tv commercials seem to be cartoons- apparently ad agencies have convinced the makers of diapers, fabric softeners, and absorbent towels that stay-at-home moms are basically big children who react well to colorful animation and pretty music. It's an ad for Charmin Bath Tissue (which we in the real world refer to as "toilet tissue," but whatever) and it features a little pink bear who has apparently done something to displease his mom- he's "used the restroom" (in as much as there are restrooms available for bears in the woods) but the cheap toilet paper he used left pieces of the stuff attached to his butt.

Stay with me. I haven't even reached the bad part yet.

Momma Bear- who is also pink and is absolutely enormous- hands Little Bear a roll of Charmin and directs him to "try again." (At this point, I really wish I was dead. Or back in school. Anything to avoid this horror.) Little Bear proceeds to squat behind a tree which is equipped with a roll of Charmin. I wish I was kidding. We are supposed to imagine that Little Cartoon Bear is defecating behind Tall But Not Quite Wide Enough Dammit Cartoon Tree.

Little Bear presents himself for Momma Bear's inspection- and (why did God curse me with eyes?) we see that Little Bear still has a few scraps of paper attached to his butt, but they quickly fall off with a few shakes. Momma Bear is sooooo pleased with Little Bear.

Message I got from this commercial: Yes, Bears do shit in the woods, just like the old joke says. But most "bath tissue" leaves pieces of paper attached to the user (seriously? I had no idea.) Charmin magically seperates itself from your butt, even (I guess) if it's covered with fur. The makers of Charmin think that SAHMs are brain-dead children. The makers of Charmin also hate me and don't care that they make me long for Labor Day and a return to 9-hour days teaching, so I don't have to risk accidental exposure to this dreck again.

What happened to Mr. Whipple, that guy addicted to squeezing Charmin yet dedicated to preventing others from doing the same? I miss that guy. Especially now.

My Summer of Smirnoffs

Ok, I have to admit straight out- I've seen this latest installment of Assholes Get Drunk on Smirnoffs And Behave Like Reckless Children about four times, and I'm still not quite sure what's going on. Maybe it's because each of these commercials literally makes me tear up in despair, they are so far off the Brain-Dead Stupid Meter. But I'll give it a shot:

It seems that this time, the lucky (?) survivors of Commercial # 1 (diving down slick highways of plastic sheeting, risking paralysis in the name of Something Had To Be Done) and Commercial # 2 (dumping purple paint all over an abandoned gas station, wearing miner's goggles and jumping up and down like clueless preschoolers) are actually doing some work- pushing pencils and making photocopies for some totally unkewl soulless corporate behemoth. Clearly, once again, something "must be done." As near as I can tell, what "must be done" is taking every piece of foam in the office, carrying the tons of scrap to the roof, and throwing it all in a huge pile. Then what? Well, since a thousand bottles or so of Smirnoffs vodka has magically appeared in this OFFICE BUILDING, the natural answer to "then what?" is to hurl ourselves into the pile of foam!!

Smirnoffs naturally concludes this ad, which not only lacks the tiniest shred of social value but I'm convinced has pushed my soul closer to hell's outer ring, with the words "Be There." Um, be WHERE? WHERE is this HAPPENING in REAL LIFE? WHERE are people getting drunk in the middle of the fricking day, in the middle of an office building, and then throwing themselves into piles of trash on the roof?

I can only hope that before Labor Day, Smirnoffs concludes this ad campaign (which, seriously, has left me convinced that there Is No God, because God Would Not Allow Such Things as these commercials to Exist) by having this entire crowd of worthless choads engage in a wild, "I can't believe I was there" gas-pump free-for-all, a la Zoolander. Heck, instead of gasoline, just have these witless losers douse eachother with Smirnoffs. Then light a match. That commercial would restore my soul and my faith in ad agencies. And it's not like anyone can argue that ALL of these idiots deserve to die a horrible death. Right now.

"Well, I'm at Least as Relevant as my Guests!"

Once Upon a Time....there was this trailblazing pioneer in television news. Her name was Barbara Walters. In an era when males all but monopolized a very limited medium, Walters managed to become a familiar face for television viewers throughout the United States-- no, make that throughout the world. For fifteen years she hosted The Today Show. Then, she cohosted and ultimately replaced the iconic Hugh Downs on 20/20. Finally came the ultimate honor- becoming a host of The ABC Nightly News. By the 1980s, Walters had really arrived- she was an honored professional taken seriously by both her peers in the journalism community and by the public. Now nearly eighty, she continues to draw good ratings with The View (I'm not a fan, but kudos to Ms. Walters for not being willing to just slip into the background.)

Which is why the commercial for her Sirius/XM Radio show, Barbara Live, is so damned depressing. Here Walters breathlessly tells us that we should tune in and listen to her interview "the most fascinating people in Hollywood and the Music Industry!" Examples? "The great Elton John. Michael Caine. And LIZA!!"

For my readers who are under the age of fifty or so, "LIZA!" is Liza Minelli, best known for being Judy Garland's daughter. She won an Academy Award for Best Actress in 1972 and then went on to star in several box-office flops. She had a decent stage career in the 1960s and 1970s, but by the mid-80s had more or less fallen off the radar screen. Elton John doesn't need any introduction, but more than a dozen years after that God-awful remake of Candle In The Wind (A God-Awful song in it's ORIGINAL form) does he really qualify as one of the music industry's "most fascinating people?" And Michael Caine--- seriously, Michael Caine??

Just for the record- Liza Minelli is 62 years old. Elton John is 63. Michael Caine is 75. I've got nothing against Seniors, but only Barbara Walters could think that these people represent the "most fascinating people" in Hollywood and the Music industry. At least she doesn't refer to them as "fresh young stars," which would REALLY date the host.

I'm looking forward to Walters' warning us not to miss future shows featuring Twiggy, Kate Jackson, and Lee Majors. I'd suggest that she perform a duet with Tiny Tim, except I'm pretty sure he's dead. I wonder if that disqualifies him from being on this show.

Seriously, Barbara- it's nice that you are still on tv and the radio (and you sure as hell don't look like you are going to be eighty in September,) but you are dating yourself with this nonsense. Still, I won't snark on you too harshly- at least you aren't hosting that Pet Psychic show or trying to sell me a Credit Card Counseling service. For that, I'm eternally grateful.

Do People STILL Fall for Extended-Warranty Scams??

A well-dressed guy is being given the bad news by his auto mechanic: "you'd better plan on leaving your car here for a few days, it needs a lot of work..."

Well-Dressed Guy (who has greasy geri curls and looks like he fell out off the set of "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka") replies "yeah yeah, no problem....."

Mechanic: "No really, we're talking at least $1900 for parts....and then there's the labor and taxes..."

Well-Dressed Guy, who is barely paying attention: "Whatever, whatever, uh huh..."

Mechanic: "You're going to have to rent a car..."

Well-Dressed Guy: "Hey, it's no problem, I got Mogi!" And he whips out a little green credit card. Ah, I get it! This guy went to Getmogi.com, bought an extended warranty for his car, and it's covered! He's right, there IS no problem!

Except, come on now. Well-Dressed Guy is suffering from a severe reality detachment if he really thinks that Mogi is going to cover thousands of dollars in damages to his car just because he happens to have an extended warranty with them. Extended warranties have ALWAYS been dicey propositions bordering on rip-offs-- they rarely if ever are worth the additional cost involved, either because the item being "covered" could be replaced for less than the premiums or because the most common repairs are conveniently left off the list of those covered. Extended car warranties are even bigger scams- since companies like Mogi know damn well what is likely to go wrong with automobiles when they reach a certain age or mileage level, they simply fail to include those in the warranty- something you find out ONLY when you need the work done on the car. Plus, extended warranties purchased along with the item usually accomplish nothing beyond jacking up the price of that item, providing no benefit to the consumer; I've lost count of how many times I've been "offered" an additional six months or a year of "service" (which usually involves sending the product through the mail to some factory, on my dime of course) on a vacuum or clock radio which adds maybe twenty percent or more to the price. It's almost always cheaper and more convenient just to chuck the thing and buy a new one when it breaks down beyond the manufacturer's warranty.

Check out these testimonials concerning automobile extended warranties:

http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/0/447/RipOff0447447.htm

http://www.ripoffreport.com/reports/0/365/RipOff0365379.htm

You'll see that companies like Mogi are in business to scam people into shelling out their hard-earned money on worthless warranties. Of course, this should come as no surprise to anyone who has matured enough to realize that no insurance company is going to offer complete coverage for your 2001 KIA with 180,000 miles on it for a reasonable price. That won't stop Mogi and others from trying, however; I'm still getting monthly "warnings" from College Park Honda that the warranty has expired on my 2003 Honda Civic EX. Gotta give them an "A" for Effort, I guess.

KGB: Because You STILL Aren't Using Your Cell Phone Often Enough!

A guy is standing in his yard, surrounded by friends and what looks to be some kind of physician doing an examination of his condition. The guy appears to be frozen.

"He's suffering from brainlock" announces the "physician."

"He was trying to remember who played first base for the Red Sox in 1986" a girl suggests helpfully.

Grooannn...stop right there. Of all the stupid things to get "brain freeze" on....as if anyone, ANYONE who knows ANYTHING about baseball could suffer "brain freeze" on the question "Who played first base for the Red Sox in 1986?" At LEAST the question could be "who was Bill Buckner's defensive substitute?" I can see missing THAT. But BUCKNER? Oh well....

"Physician:" "Buckner." And the guy unfreezes. Problem solved.

The commercial is for something called "KGB" (it's not just a brutal police force operated by a totalitarian Communist state anymore!") which offers to answer dumbass questions like this for you if you just use the cell phone you already have stapled to your palm to text it to 542542. Yes, there's a fee involved. Yes, if you just give yourself a couple of seconds or- hey, here's a concept- actually ASK A HUMAN BEING IN THE VICINITY, you can probably get the answer without texting or paying a fee. Yes, any answer available through KGB is also available through a 10-second Google search. But KGB gives you another excuse to whip out your cell phone and start developing that third layer of callouses on your thumbs!

And that's what drives me nuts about this commercial. It's not enough that "tweeting" went from rather silly non-activity to common practice adopted by CNN in about five minutes. It's not enough that we've been made to believe that if we don't have streaming video and XM radio and this "Ap" and that "Ap" with our phones, they are just paperweights that will leave us showing poorly to our friends. Now we are being told that any time we can't remember something, we should abandon the old-fashioned methods of thinking for a few minutes or asking someone (after all, the latter might start a CONVERSATION with a person who is ACTUALLY THERE- a conversation carried out without the use of cell phones, is such a thing stil possible??? Is it really conceivable that no one at this little lawn party knew the answer to this guy's "brain freeze" question?) and instead go right to our electronic security blankets. Because God Knows we don't ever, EVER want to debate or discuss ANYTHING with ANYONE, EVER, right?

Not to mention that in this economy, who WOULDN'T mind dropping a quick dollar or two every time it takes you more than a few seconds to remember something? After all, thinking makes my brain hurt. Not knowing is bad and wrong. Instant Gratification- that's where it's at!

So the next time you can't remember who won the Academy Award for Best Actor in 1988, for God's Sake do NOT ask someone in the same room. Do NOT give it any thought at all. Just text away- it's probably what you were doing anyway. And when you look up and you find yourself alone, breathe a sigh of relief that there's now no chance that your texting will be interrupted by one of those organic life forms you are forced to share the planet with.

The Continuing Adventures of AT&T Boy and Harpy Jellyfish-Spine Mom

The voice from the back seat simpers "hey mom, I need some more minutes." Naturally, he's holding his cell phone, which I think are now being surgically connected to the palms of anyone under the age of 30, for a small fee. For convenience.

Harried, clearly on-the-brink-of-a-nervous-breakdown-if-this-kid-pushes-just-one-more-button mom spins like Linda Blair in The Exorcist and snaps "What? I just gave you some back at the restaurant!"

"Uh....no, those were old. I threw them away."

Well, we know the rest, don't we? A tape recorder in mom's head goes off, and she proceeds to give the same speech she's given in at least three other commercials about how the "old minutes" (still represented by little plastic clocks) are just as good as "new minutes," and how other people (starving children in China, perhaps?) would consider themselves lucky to have the old minutes....only this time, Worthless, Apparently Stoned Ungrateful Choad Son interrupts by parotting "Saving Minutes Saves Money, I know."

Mom glares at son. Stoned son stares blankly at mom. Mom stares at son. Stoned son stares blankly at mom. Mom stares at son- and actually appears on the verge of bursting out laughing- maybe these commercials are getting to this actress, who is on the verge of being typecast. Stoned son stares blankly at mom.

All this while, Younger Son does nothing but give a sympathetic glance at his older brother- might as well say "Oh Christ, here goes mom being a total bitch about her minutes, again. God she's lame!" And Unseen Dad, presumably driving the car, says nothing- which means he's as helpful in dealing with this ongoing problem as he is in all the other commercials.

Will someone PLEASE get SNL to do a parody of this commercial? Because I really need to see this woman take that fucking cell phone out of the kid's hand and toss it out the goddamn window. Or, failing that, order Unseen Dad to turn the fucking car around and go back to the restaurant, so mom can drag her Stoned Son into the manager's office and ask him to put Stoned Son to work washing dishes- because, you see, Stoned Son needs more minutes and thinks money grows on fucking trees.

Seriously, I've had more than enough of the Battle of Wills between an Alleged Head of the Family and her Asshole Son who can't stay within the confines of the Family Plan. And the truly pathetic thing is, AT&T's "solution" is to just sign up for their Unlimited Plan, so your worthless slacker kids can Tweet and Twitter and Roam and Surf and Text and Gab their fricking fingers off without annoying you with their presence, or a big bill.

AT&T continues to hate people, and I continue to hate AT&T. ESPECIALLY these commercials.

From Drug Addict to Thoughtless Ditz, thanks to Advil

The woman who is the only character in this commercial is standing in the medicine aisle, filling her basket with one box after another of Tylenol. I think she ends up with about eight boxes of the stuff in there, before the disembodied voice so popular in ads like this intones "you can get the same relief from one Advil (All Day Long, All Day Strong) as with EIGHT Tylenol...."

She then proceeds to do something that would probably not set me off if I had not spent four years working at a Wegman's Grocery Store: she puts her basket, still filled with boxes of Tylenol, right down on the floor, and walks away, carrying her one bottle of Advil.

I know people like this woman, and worse. I worked in the Dairy Department at a Wegman's in Cheektowaga, New York back in the early-90s. I saw seniors open 1-lb boxes of butter so they could remove one quarter- even if there were already boxes open from the last band of marauding "I buy butter one stick at a time" old farts to pass by. I saw people open cartons of eggs, find one broken one among the dozen, and then carefully close the cartons and put them back right where they found them- so the next customer could find the broken eggs, I guess. I saw drooling hick morons take gallons of milk off the shelf, decide they didn't want them, and leave them on the floor to spoil (or WORSE- attempt to put them back on another shelf, causing a gallon already sitting there to fall backwards into the refrigerated stocking area, creating a huge puddle for John in Dairy to clean up.) I saw worthless Please Die In a Horrible Accident on the Way Back to the Trailer Park bottom-feeders prove utterly incapable of taking a container of yogurt off the shelf without spilling two onto the cooling grate at their feet.

And I saw many, many, MANY clueless, indecisive, ADD-addled morons move through the store, picking items off of one shelf and dropping them on a random shelf with each mood swing.

Look, I get that stores these days are big, scary, complicated things. I understand that the choices offered are enormous and bewildering, especially for people with IQs roughly equalling that of brain-damaged lemmings. Sometimes, people think they want to buy something, change their minds, and just don't have the time or energy to go ALL THE WAY back to the correct aisle to return it. But GOD DAMN IT, this woman is STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO THE SHELF. Is it really too much to ask that she PUT THE MEDICINE BACK and RETURN HER BASKET TO THE FRONT OF THE STORE??

Ok-- I'm calmed down now. I'll just leave you with three additional thoughts which ran through my head while suffering Wegman's flashbacks:

1. Is the woman in this commercial stocking medicine for a bomb shelter? Before she realized that 1 Advil = 8 Tylenol, was she really planning to buy what looks to be two decades' worth of pain medication?

2. If this woman really needs to take this much medication, shouldn't she, maybe, check with her doctor?

3. If I was the cashier at a grocery store and this woman plopped down eight boxes of Tylenol, I'd call a manager. I don't know what powerful hallucinogens can be extracted from large amounts of Tylenol, but I'd be convinced she had some form of meth lab off the basement rec room. Or in the bomb shelter.