"Don't talk to me"

Scruffy asshole steps into the living room fully clothed, but with a just-woke-up look on his face which he manages to maintain for pretty much the entire commercial.

Guy sitting on the sofa of what I guess I'm expected to take as a group house tries to be polite, lifting his eyes from the inevitable laptop (I guess I should be thankful it's not a Blackberry) to give some form of social greeting to the scruffy asshole, only to be dismissed with a wave of the hand and a "not until I've had my coffee."

Scruffy, sleepy idiot-apparently unaware that there are these really cool, inexpensive gadgets which allow you to make COFFEE IN YOUR OWN HOME- hits the streets to Spread the Rude. Just outside his door, a neighbor tries to greet him, only to get another dismissive "don't talk to me until I've had my coffee."

Sleepy moron ramps it up a bit by responding to a cute girl on the bus (at least he's not trying to operate heavy machinery) who chirps "good morning" with a nasty little sneer. I don't care how badly I need coffee- I'm not brushing off cute girls who say "good morning" on the bus.

Finally this antisocial jackass walks into McDonalds, and actually interrupts the way-too-thrilled-with-her-minimum-wage-job cashier's attempt to "interest him" in a "premium roast coffee for just a dollar." Catching the word "coffee," Worthless Sleepy Prick responds "talk to me!" Haha, nothing but geniuses working in the advertising department at McDonalds.

The conclusion of this ad shows Now Ready to be Part of Society But Still Scruffy and Repulsive Dickwad walking down the street, desperately attempting to repair the damage he's done by bleating inane compliments about the weather, this woman's scarf, etc. etc. as it is now THEIR turn to brush him off. So it's a happy ending.

"Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee." Hey, no problem there, buddy. I imagine that most of us will be perfectly happy to avoid talking to you after you've had your daily caffeine fix, too. I can't imagine that being spared a conversation with you constitutes much of a loss.

I wouldn't mind starting my day by chatting with the cute girl on the bus, though.

An Expensive Prescription and some Quality time with your Doctor

A woman complains to her female doctor that she's experiencing dryness in her eyes. It seems that this complaint comes at the end of the examination, and was not the purpose of the visit. It also seems that the patient's examination took place in a massive office building that bears no resemblance to any hospital or medical building I've ever seen.

Female doctor looks deeply concerned. "How often do you take eye drops?"

"Several times a day."

Female doctor: "I'm writing you a prescription for Restasis."

Well, that was certainly a thorough examination, wasn't it? "Doctor, my eyes dry out during the day, and I use eye drops." Doctor: "here's a prescription drug." Score one for realism, at least.

The fun doesn't end there, though. The patient and doctor now walk out of the "office," and down a long hallway, casually chatting about- well, dry eyes, I guess. The doctor assures the patient that "I take Restasis myself."

Patient: "You take Restasis?"

Doctor: "Twice a day."

Patient gives a reassured, "I guess it isn't poisonous then" nod to herself, and the long journey of these two women to the exit continues. Clearly, the doctor has no patients waiting to see her today, because it looks as though she's going to spend twenty minutes escorting this woman out of the building.

A couple of observations:

1. Does Restasis actually cure anything? If not, what makes it superior to over-the-counter eye drops? The patient here seems to be very satisfied with the prospect of giving up her $5 bottle of Visine for a $50 bottle of Restasis- why? Is Restasis superior because it's a prescription drug? Because it's more expensive? Because the doctor prescribed it after a six-second "examination" that involved nothing more than the patient announcing her symptoms and the doctor responding by whipping out her prescription pad?

2. I feel really slighted right now. My doctor has NEVER walked me out of his office, down the hall, and out the door. For some reason, he's always felt as if his business with me was complete the moment he handed me my prescription or gave me instructions on how to adjust my diet. I've never had a long, involved conversation with him which included a casual stroll around his building. What's wrong with me?

Commercials: they aren't just for radio, tv and the internet anymore!

I got my new VISA card in the mail the other day, and called the 800 number to activate it. In years past, this process has taken approximately 20 seconds- I call, punch in the number of the card, and get a recorded voice announcing that my card is now activated and ready to use. Peel off the sticker, put it in the wallet, good to go.

Those days are gone. Because the lovely people at VISA have now realized that as long as you HAVE to call them to activate your card, they have this great opportunity to give you a sales pitch while holding you hostage on the phone. You will not hang up, because after all, you want that card activated ( I only have one credit card, which I use only for big-ticket items like travel and hotels, but I do need it.)

I know I'm in a bit of trouble when, instead of being told that my card is now activated, I'm informed instead that "this call may be recorded for training and security purposes." Uh oh...

And now here's a chirpy operator on the line to check my name and address. Ok, that's good- just being careful.

But what comes next just gets me angry- an avalanche of verbiage, poured over me at a very rapid pace, from which I'm able to pick out the words "30-day free trial," "credit score monitoring," and "$12.99 per month." The missive ends with the chirpy woman declaring "so, let's get you signed up for that..."

"No thank you" I reply, feeling that I ought to play at least a small role in this "conversation."

Pause. "Well, sir, the service is free for thirty days, and if you don't like it you can cancel within that time for no charge..."

"Don't send me anything" I interrupt.

"That's fine, sir. Now because you are a valued customer, we are also offering...." and here comes another avalanche, this time including the words "credit card security" and "instant notification fraud alerts.." and "limited liability..." This gets me even angrier, since I know that, by federal law, my liability in the event of fraud is already limited. Chirpy phone lady finally gets to the words "$3.99 per month" and gives me my cue- "So let's get you signed up for that..."

"No thank you" I reply. "I don't want any special services, thanks very much anyway."

And now, it finally is over. Chirpy lady thanks me for my time, reminds me that I can sign up for the services she promoted any time, and informs me that my card is now activated and ready to use. And it only took six minutes- just about the average commercial break on AMC.

I didn't have to see or hear an ad for Enzyte, so maybe I should be grateful. But I can't help wonder how many elderly, hard-of-hearing or just plain dumbfounded people who innocently called to get their cards activated find themselves signed up for "services" they don't need and can't afford. I wonder how many people let the thirty-day free trial period slip by because they simply don't read the impossibly small print in that innocent-looking notice from VISA (because after all, 99 percent of the mail anyone gets from credit card companies is pure junk) or don't even read their bill because they haven't used their cards and assume they have no balance to pay (leading to crushing late fees on top of everything) and suddenly find themselves locked into paying a monthly charge until they can convince VISA to let them out of the "contract."

In my opinion, this kind of "lets get you started" sales pitch ought to be illegal. A signature should be required before any monthly fees are added to anyone's credit card bill. No store could get away with sticking something in my pocket while I'm not looking and then charging me for it when I walk out the door. What VISA is doing here is essentially the same thing- customers should simply NOT be required to say "No Thank You" to sales pitches in order to avoid being charged. I know the economy is bad, VISA, but that doesn't give you the green light to pick my pocket, or anyone else's.

More Great Parenting Skills in Evidence

A mom and dad who look like they could be cast in any typical sitcom are staring out the bay window drinking steaming cups of coffee, watching their teen-aged son and daughter shovel the walk.

"How did you get them to do that?" Mom asks dad.

Ok, hold it right there while I enjoy a laugh at the image of my mom asking my dad "how did you get him to do that?" when she noticed me shoveling the driveway, mowing the lawns, taking out the trash, feeding the dog, or doing all of the other things I did as a child. That scene never took place, because when I was a kid, I did chores because I was told to.

But back to our commercial-

Dad responds "I told them that I'd let them talk and text their friends all they want."

Mom replies with one of the most unintentionally depressing lines I've ever heard in an advertisement- "but they can do that already, we have Unlimited Talk and Text." Groan.

"They don't know that" dad deadpans. Mom and Dad enjoy a silent victory over their kids, and resume watching their back-breaking labor from the comfort of the family living room, drinking coffee which is mysteriously still very hot, as we get a "burned myself" throwaway line from Dad.

So, which is the saddest aspect of this commercial- that Mom and Dad feel they have to bribe their kids to do chores they ought be to doing anyway? That Mom and Dad think it's a good idea to let their kids use their phones nonstop? That the kids are so desperate to have zero restrictions on their phone usage that they are willing to risk frostbite to earn it? That Dad is so anxious for a "victory"- ANY "victory"- over his kids that he's willing to use their cell phone addiction against them? You make the call.

I guess I'm just evil

Three skiers are trapped on a lift, waiting for help. How do they pass their time?

By talking to each other? Don't be stupid. Haven't you been paying attention at all?

Each one of them uses their cell phones (which all have cool/overbearingly cutesy names, like "Curve" and "Hero" and "Pixie") to listen to music, download Apps, check on business, etc. etc. Heck, each one is probably delighted to be stuck on that Lift, because they haven't figured out how to text and actually ski at the same time anyway.

This is a mildly obnoxious commercial, as far as Sprint's Assault on Humanity campaign goes. I actually find some enjoyment in it, because I always find myself imagining a perfect ending -- three self-absorbed morons who are now frozen corpses sharing a ski lift, phones still held firmly in their mittens, lifeless eyes staring at non-functioning screens-- because none of these people thought to actually call for help. Ah, it makes me all warm inside. Thanks, Sprint!

That's an awesome kid you're raising there, "dad"

I'm pretty sure this is another commercial for Sprint, which is currently leading the "don't ever do anything that doesn't involve using your phones" charge among cell service providers. But really, does it matter?

A bemused (or deflated, defeated, and probably never made much effort at imposing simple, necessary discipline and self-restraint) dad is asking the disembodied voice of the commercial's narrator for "help" in handling the family's cell phone bill. "What if you have a daughter who sent 35,000 texts last month?"

Zombie Daughter, staring at the screen of her phone with an intently focused, "why won't the non-cell phone world just go away" look on her face-- "that's an exaggeration."

Deflated Dad: "No it isn't."

Of course, the commercial doesn't address the real problem- that this daughter has a serious addiction to her phone, which has taken over her life in an alarmingly unhealthy way. According to Sprint, it's not even worth noting that 35,000 text messages in a month means 1166 messages per day. Assuming sixteen hours of wakefulness per day (considering how many of my students fall asleep first period because they've been online or on their phones until 2 AM, maybe this is a misguided assumption,) that's seventy-three texts per hour-- just over one per minute. No, the "problem" is the cost of all these messages, which is "solved" by getting Unlimited Texting from Sprint.

I wish a parent would explain to me why this commercial is amusing and helpful, rather than sad. I wish a parent would shoot me an email telling me that they couldn't care less if their children are basically doing nothing BUT texting people- and that the only problem they associate with this "activity" is the cost involved.

I wish kids who do a lot of texting would explain to me how and if they manage to carry out actual conversations with human beings in the vicinity while they are texting others. I wish they would explain to me why texting is preferable to talking, not to mention preferable to engaging in sports, reading, or any of the wide range of activities you simply cannot participate in fully with a cell phone attached to your hand.

Most of all, I wish Sprint and all the other cell phone companies would explain to me why they think that the pursuit of the Allmighty Dollar is worth crippling an entire generation of young people, who will one day look up from their screens to notice that something called Real Life has been going on around them, and all they have to show for their youth is an overloaded In Box and callouses. Oh, and bad grades- at least four of my students will be taking history again next year, because they spent the 2009-10 term in the bathrooms tapping away at their beeping little toys.

More Disgusting, Manipulative BS from Cancer Treatment Centers of America

This latest pile of steaming crud from the anti-doctor vultures who prey on the fears of desperate people reaches new levels of utter vileness. We see a series of people throwing out talking points like "Strength" and "Character" and "Taking Control" when discussing their diagnosis of terminal cancer:

"I wasn't interesting in 'managing' my cancer, I wanted to fight it. I wanted this cancer out of me."

"I was determined to beat this thing."

"It's all about taking control, about finding the strength, about having the character to see the fight through..."

"When I walked in the doors, I knew this is the place I wanted to be..."

"They did more than help us fight. They gave me my father back."

Not one damn word about treatments. Nothing about medicines, or therapies, or machines. Nothing but buzzwords- as if all you really need to fight cancer is a strong personality and the right kind of "character."

These people are scum-sucking maggots. I have nothing but contempt for any organization which preys on the fears and desperation of people who have been told by actual DOCTORS that they have cancer and that managing it is the only real option they have. As the son of a cancer survivor, I can only hope that there is a special, extra-hot level of Hell reserved for monsters who are willing to make money telling sick, scared, desperate people that with a little "Can-Do Spirit," they can somehow will the cancer out of their bodies, and that they should start by dismissing the heartless "experts" who used "xrays" and (chuckle) "modern medicine" to diagnose their problems.

Oh, and I apologize to vultures, vampires, and scum-sucking maggots who may be reading this blog. I didn't mean to cause offense by comparing you to the good people at Cancer Treatment Centers of America.