Let's not and say we did. Please.

"Lets make 3D the next big thing..." Jeeesh, why don't you just come out and say it, Sprint? What you REALLY mean is "let's make 3D the latest excuse to throw away that perfectly good, State Of The Art Until Just Now phone you thought was really cool but which now looks like a piece of ancient crap."

Shorter Version: "When we say Jump, you reply 'how high,' idiot consumer monkey!"

In fact, the concept of 3D phones- and an ad campaign geared toward convincing me that I need such a thing- is so darned obnoxious that I actually have no real problem that it's being sold by the usual Get A Load Of Moron Dad theme. Indeed, I have to agree with the kids with the eyerolls and their Oh My God Dad You Are So F--ing Lame attitude -- they actually seem to GET that Dad's new toy is really, really stupid, and (Glory be to God!) seem to be more interested in just playing Ping Pong than participating in his desperate attempt to justify this stupid impulse purchase.

And I love the "you can share 3D videos with all your 3D friends" line used in a similar ad. I mean, that's just classic. First, it's true that all my friends come in 3D- though nowadays, a lot of people have "friends" who are NOT Three-Dimensional, as they exist as "friends" only in the Social Network. But the best part is the subtle little reminder that you can only share your amazing 3D videos of people doing amazing 3D things like playing Ping Pong with fellow losers who went out and bought 3D phones.

There are already several commercials featuring this doofus dad trying to explain to his kids why his 3D phone is SuperAmazingAwesome and the greatest invention since- well, this guy's last cell phone. Which probably featured Surround Sound. That was the most awesome phone since the one before that, which allowed him to project stupid commercials on to walls, allowing everyone in the area to share his interests, whether they wanted to or not. And that was the best phone since the one before that, which allowed him to download that video of the surfing squirrel five seconds before people who still had that phone he owned previously, the slow-adapting losers.

"Let's make 3D the thing which makes your last phone obsolete." I have a better idea. Let's stop playing this game, at least until someone comes up with an innovation which REALLY makes ditching our old phone for a new one worthwhile. Of course, for people like me, who use phones to talk and text, period (I'm such a philistine!) that's going to be quite an innovation. I suggest adding a taser which allows me to zap the hell out of people who update their cell phones every fifteen minutes just because Sprint tells them to.

Where Did It All Go Wrong?

I grew up on a farm. Our nearest neighbors were about half a mile down the dirt road which went past our house. In between the houses were rolling fields, apple orchards, and cows. Or perhaps I should not use the past tense- little has changed since then. My parents are retired to that house, but the kids who used to play in that neighborhood have all grown up and moved away (except me- I've moved away, but I've never grown up.)

I remember wanting a Big Wheel, and then REALLY wanting a Green Machine. But by then I was old enough to ride a bike, so these two wonderful toys were never to be part of my life. Born too late, I guess. But enough about me. Can someone out there please tell me what the modern equivalent of a Big Wheel or a Green Machine is? What toy is being heavily marketed which encourages kids to spend large amounts of time in the great outdoors, working their legs furiously to get that breeze really blowing in their faces? What is being marketed for kids which encourages sweating, shortness of breath, flushed faces and a good night's sleep when the day is done?

I mean, I know that there are a lot of products out there which encourage children to sit their butts down on chairs and stare at screens. Fine motor skills are enhanced by hand-held controllers and keyboards. I can remember, clear as day, the afternoon my father brought home a kite for us to fly over the large, March-damp field across the road from the house. (One day, the string broke and we watched it fly away. A few days later, we spotted it on a neighbor's porch while walking home from the bus stop.) I can remember, like it was yesterday, the day my mother came home with my first bicycle, stuffed into the back seat of our Volkswagen Bug. I wonder how long today's kids will remember the day they got that PS3 or XBox. I wonder if they'll remember specific games they played, like I remember desperately peddling home from a friend's house, trying to beat the sun which, on summer days, I thought would NEVER set.

I think Big Wheels are still on the market- don't know about Green Machines. But if they aren't, I can't believe it's because they are no longer attractive to kids. I have to believe instead that they aren't as attractive to lazy, frightened, helicopter parents as the game system which keeps Little Hunter and Little Cody (actual commercial kid names) docile and "safe" in the family rec room. So Mom and Dad know where the children are in between feedings of Kraft Mac'n Cheese. And they know that the children aren't getting their clothes dirty.

They are, however, outgrowing those clothes. Quickly. Maybe I was born to late for Big Wheels and Green Machines, but at least I can be thankful that I was born too early to Storm the Castle with a click of a mouse. Because I can remember doing it with a snowball in my hand. Much better.

AT&T Ramps up the Hate

Come now- in real life, the woman in this ad is clearly miserable in her loveless sham of a marriage, and is looking for a reason- ANY reason- to bail. When her husband sticks his head into the greenhouse (could this be their personal arboretum? If so, is this woman really complaining about her husband wasting money?) to announce that he's just signed the family up for some great AT&T offer, she looks as if she's totally reached the end of the rope with this guy and his insane spending habits.

"I should have married John Clark" she mutters, loudly enough for her husband to hear. Instead of doing the sensible thing- telling her to go ahead and call a lawyer, get a divorce, and start preparing to spend the rest of her life making John Clark the most miserable man on the planet- her husband replies that the service is free, provided when he signed the family up for unlimited messaging (which the family obviously needs- you certainly never want the kids to stop messaging, ever.)

At this point, if I were this woman (and I thank my merciful God that I am not) I would have asked the question I think is kind of obvious- "well, Steve, how much does UNLIMITED MESSAGING cost?" Or how about starting with "don't you think we could have talked about this before you went out and signed us up- maybe I we don't WANT our kids glued to their fucking phones 24/7? Are we an actual functioning family, or what?" Instead, Wife is stunned to discover that Steve has, perhaps, avoided being a Complete and Utter Screw-Up, For Once.

I'm pretty used to cell phone commercials dripping with hate and contempt for human beings and society at large, but AT&T takes it to a new level here. As usual, there's nobody to sympathize with- idiot Husband made a rather important decision concerning the family's cell phone usage without consulting Wife. Wife made a bitter, nasty, and cruel comment in return before knowing all the facts. And all we, the viewers, are left with is the hope that these guys stay married forever, because really, this is damage that ought to be contained, and I think they deserve each other.

I THINK so. I'm not QUITE sure anyone deserves this woman. If I were John Clark, I'd change my name and cell phone number.

Dodge's next vehicle should just be called the "Attitude"

Anyone else sick of the same smug, self-satisfied authoritative voice giving us yet another twenty second version of "what the hell is wrong with you why don't you own one of these things already, you must be a clueless retard" while showing us a vehicle that Dammit As Long As Gasoline is Hovering at Just Under Four Bucks a Gallon we don't want?

Anyone else remember how cars didn't come with voice-operated GPS, seat warmers, OnStar, Hands-Free Cellphone service, Satellite Radio, and a thousand other things that needed tinkering with while we are just trying to get from Point A to Point B?

Anyone else thinking what I'm thinking every time I see this stupid little nub of an ad- that if you DON'T have someone riding Shotgun in your Dodge Whatever, you are going to be spending a LOT of time and energy doing things that don't involve keeping your eyes on the freaking road?

And getting back to my original point- anyone else sick of having Dodge all but say out loud that if you don't already have one of these things sitting in the driveway of your suburban paradise, you must be already dead, or just too f--ing stupid to take the hint embedded in Every. Single. One. of Dodge's "These vehicles are so awesome we really don't understand why we even have to advertise them, except that the American consumer is pretty damned clueless" spots.

Here's a tip, Dodge: Kill the attitude. Your cars and trucks aren't so very hot, and a lot of us simply don't need all those stupid extras, and sure as hell don't want to pay for them. And while you're at it, kill the spokesman, too, ok? Because the confident, bored monotone just isn't working.

Don't worry, Mom. I'm sure you'll find other ways to damage this child.

This pathetic excuse for a mother is clearly mortified because her little daughter wants to wear hoodies and cargo shorts, gets dirty, and keeps building parking garages with blocks. I think it's pretty safe to imagine that Mommy's Little Clone is SUPPOSED to want to wear frilly dresses (pink, of course) while serving tea to her teddy bears and Mrs Beasley doll. Later, she'd be allowed to graduate to Barbies, but the pink dresses stay.

Because it's all about appearances, and apparently this wretched, sadly fertile lump of mucus thinks there is something truly scandalous that her female child isn't Happily Living the Stereotype. Oooooh, she gets DIRTY!! She wears non-pink clothes, including hoodies and shorts!! She builds something that doesn't look like a stove or a Dream Kitchen! The horror! Where will it all end?

Well, maybe it will end with the development of a fully-functioning, female adult. One that understands that in the 21st century, women can do ANY GOD DAMNNED THING THEY WANT- wear clothes which are not pink dresses, become engineers and architects, GET DIRTY, whatever. That is, they can if they aren't molded into square pegs by weird, smothering, hovering helicopter mommies who are so twisted that they actually fantasize that their children's favorite clothes will be ruined so they can be replaced by more "acceptable" items.

Just one question- where the hell did this little girl develop a taste for clothing which is so offensive to mommy in the first place? Think there is more than a little hostility between Mommy and Daddy out there? Think the in-laws are slightly more open-minded (though really, who wouldn't be) when they pick out clothes to give to their favorite granddaughter? I mean, clearly there is a back story here.

Meanwhile, the story that is right out there, in our face, is that this woman has got some serious issues, and needs help. I'd start by having that metal rod someone jammed up her ass surgically removed. Then I'd tell her to stop taking all her social cues from Phyllis Schlafly. Because wishing your kid would ruin her clothes so you could go back to dressing her up like your perfect little poppet? Yuck.

Oh yeah, I want a house full of these things

Ugh, looks like the Village of the Damned is missing one of it's prized residents.

This hideous little girl has wandered away from her oblivious, free sample-hogging mommy in order to harass the Probably Already Wishes He Were Dead I Mean After All He Looks Like He's In This Late Twenties and He's a Stockboy store employee.* For some reason, this guy feels compelled to defend the veracity of Fiber One's claim to be High Fiber to this Adorable Little Moppet, even to the point of engaging in a "Yes It Is/No It's Not" battle of "wills."

Fortunately, our favorite weird Middle Eastern Guy with the Colonial British Accent comes to the rescue by essentially taking her side and explaining how Stockboy MUST be telling the truth because his pants are not on fire, proving that he's not "Pathological." At this point I really want to hurt the person who taught this kid the word "Pathological." That person deserves it, because she's probably the same individual who taught this kid that it was ok to call people who are just trying to make an honest living that they are liars. Never mind talking to strangers, which I thought was an obvious no-no in this day and age.

The mercifully short mess ends with the nasty little tike skipping off with a box of Fiber One to toss into Mommy's cart. We may assume that Mommy lets her kid pick out her own cereal, especially if she's sold, which she certainly seems to be (after all, she's so engrossed in stuffing her face with free samples, she didn't even notice that her kid went off to do research on the product's ingredients.) And again, we are left wondering why this particular ad would convince anyone to eat stuff which looks like, and probably is, just a pile of nuts, twigs and pencil shavings.

*When I was in my late-20s and recently married, I worked in the dairy department at a Wegman's Grocery Store in upstate New York. Because it was a job I could get, and the hours were flexible enough to allow me to substitute teach during the day. I can remember being bothered by annoying, know-it-all customers who thought that I had nothing but time on my hands, but none of them were little kids. Most of them were Seniors coming in to do their daily shopping for a cup of yogurt and stick of butter, who needed to know RIGHT THEN AND THERE if I was holding out on the Milk With The Slightly Better Expiration Date, or if there was REALLY no Rice Pudding left in the back, and I was just too lazy to check. I don't want a house full of THOSE people, either.

With "Friends" like these...

A few years ago, when I didn't know what Facebook was, I heard two students in the hallway comparing the number of friends each had. One said he had 250 friends. The other said he had 290, and had added fifteen in the last few days. I was impressed, and I stopped to ask if they had been to camp recently, or some community activity, or a family reunion, to find themselves blessed with so many friends.

They explained to me that they were referring go their Facebook "Friends," and in fact had never met roughly 90 percent of them. In other words, they were referring to photographs which represented numbers, which in turn indicated nothing more intimate than the willingness of a lot of people to add their names to lists kept by strangers, as long as the "favor" could be reciprocated. These "friends" did not actually know them or ever even talk to them. They certainly could not be called upon for a ride to the airport, or a shoulder to cry on. They were "friends" in a sense which seemed quite alien and sad to me.

Now, there's another way to "value your friends." If you refer them to your cable service, they represent one hundred dollars each. That's how much money you can get for each friend who signs up for DirectTV, as long as they are "friendly" enough to reference your name and membership number when they do so. The next time you look at someone you think is your friend, just imagine them as a big, ugly one hundred dollar bill. But only ten of them- there is a limit to this offer, after all. just like there is a limit to friendship- right?

Well, I suppose this was inevitable. First, friends are just names and faces willing to use you to pad their Facebook total. Now, they represent money. Because after all, how much do you REALLY value Facebook Friend #346, compared to a hundred bucks?

As far as I'm concerned, "valuing" your friends by seeing them as representing an opportunity to make money is no less cynical and crass as using them to make your list of Facebook "Friends" artificially larger.

Remember Society? Wasn't that fun, while it lasted?