Because this is not a decision you want to leave to your "Loved Ones"

I don't know, maybe it's just me- but the guy talking about what his family is going to do with his dead body as he turns raw pieces of meat on the grill is a pretty sketchy way to start this ad, don't you think?

A lot of Life Insurance ads focus on the "rising funeral expenses" which, I guess, could actually cripple a family's economic stability unless handled through the purchase of bigger and bigger insurance policies.  Seriously?  I don't get this AT ALL. Why do funerals "have" to be such a terrific financial burden?  What does this asshole at the grill want, a fricking pyramid?  A Viking funeral complete with oak casket entombed in a burning, 40-foot replica of a Nordic exploration vessel?

Hey, Earth to Survivors:  Your loved one is dead.  Stick him in a pine box, drop him into the ground, and decorate the plot of land above his rotting corpse with a simple granite slab.  Better yet, go the cremation route- we take up more than enough space while Among the Living, the least we could do is vanish completely once we go on to our Great Reward (Oblivion without Cell Phone Service, is my guess.)

Mr. Grillmaster apparently has crappy Life Insurance, or he's afraid that his dependents won't think a lavish send-off is worth dipping into the pot, so he's gone the extra step of handing another company even more money for Funeral Only Insurance.   This strikes me as an Almost Awesome way to give the Finger to your family when you die- oh to be there when the attorney explains to them that you left Wife and Two Wonderful Kids $300,000 to replace your income- but you also purchased a $10 million funeral, with music provided by the London Symphony Orchestra and two virgins who will play-act being sealed up with your now-worthless body  in the marble tomb which can be seen from space.  Oh, they'll be weeping all right, and wondering how much the 200 Extras paid to stand around crying and touching handkerchiefs to their faces cost.

You know, maybe I'll make a few calls tomorrow and make some changes to my own insurance plans.  To hell with beneficiaries- I want every penny I leave spent on the biggest, showiest, most traffic-stopping sendoff I can afford.  To hell with having my ashes scattered into the ocean or on the hill behind my boyhood home- I want them encased in lead and attached to a high-orbit satellite named after me, where they can look down on my Loved Ones.  Serves them right for outliving me, the selfish bastards.

Despite this warning from Radio Shack, we never really saw it coming, did we?

I can remember seeing this commercial, more than 20 years ago, and just snickering at the concept of a company best known for selling cheap batteries trying to convince the average consumer that they could ever get enough use out of a portable phone to justify it's bulk and cost.

Well, shows what I know.  Sure, the bulk went away- from four pounds to a couple of ounces- and so did the cost (I think this thing, which looks like it could have been used on the beaches at Normandy, retailed for around $3000.)  Maybe that had something to do with it.  But in twenty years cellular phones went from being a rather clunky, heavy, stupid, expensive luxury to a tiny, light, stupid, expensive luxury--errr, I mean, Absolute Necessity.

And of course, since just talking on a phone wasn't enough (it was for 100 years, remember) we got texting, video cameras, televisions, projection screens, and the internet thrown in.  Because Radio Shack, and all of the other drug peddlers who got us hooked on these things, simply cannot bear the thought that we might ever put them down.  So every year, they add something to give us an excuse to never do that.  These days, the tag line is "Share Everything."  Uh huh.  Because suddenly, thanks to your cell phone, everything is worth sharing.  Sure it is.

Anyway, the age of suitcase-sized briefcases and beepers didn't last very long, did it?  I mean, I never even saw one of these things in real life.   I do remember phones without cameras.  I also remember sane people who didn't brag about the technology they held in their hands as if A)  it's expensive, B)  it's exclusive, C) it takes some special skill not shared with everyone over the age of six to use,  and D)  they built it.   In other words, I'm old enough to remember the days before these things turned people into zombie assholes.

I heard a radio personality the other day suggest that life would suddenly become much more bearable if "all the satellites fell out of the sky."  I can't say I disagree, though it would deprive me of this blog.  But if I was to wake up one day and find that I had no more material for This Commercial Sucks, no one would be happier than I.   Believe me, I'd find something else to do.

Concerning a Birthday, and an Anniversary

For most of my life, I have not been a fan of my own birthday.  For almost as long as I can remember, its approach has coincided with the end of vacation and the resumption of work.  When I was a kid, it meant that summer was over and school was about to begin again- the bikes, the GI Joe Action Figures, the ThingMakers I unwrapped after blowing out the candles would be enjoyed for roughly one week before spending most of each day sitting around waiting for me to get back from sitting in classrooms.  (My sister's birthday is May 31, and I was always jealous of that- what an awesome time to have a party with gifts, just before the start of summer vacation!)

When I went to college, August 24 was usually a day of travel, from Vermont to Washington, DC, if I had not departed from the family homestead to resume studies already.   Birthday greetings came over the phone and through the mail.

For the past 18 years, I have "celebrated" my birthday mainly through Back to School meetings- assembling class lists, covering bulletin boards, and moving books from dusty storage rooms on to shelves.  The hiking shorts, T-shirts and sneakers are set aside for suits, ties and uncomfortable shoes.  I get emails and texts congratulating me on moving one step closer to The Abyss.   We had cake at a staff meeting once.    But it's not a fun day.  It hasn't been one for most of my life, and it sure doesn't look like this one will be any different.

August 24, 2012 is also an anniversary for me.  One year ago, I gave myself the gift of addition through subtraction:  I gave up Facebook.

I know people who have given up Facebook because they felt that they were "addicted" to the site- they were spending too much time talking to virtual friends and losing contact with actual living, breathing ones.  I didn't have that problem.  My mistake was in accepting one friend request too many on the innocent theory that faded feelings, like colors, stay faded, and can't be revived through electronic communication- or even face-to-face contact.

I can't say it doesn't still hurt, but I can't say I really miss Facebook, either.  I hear family and friends talk about it, check it on their phones, and occasionally ask me why the heck they need to call or text me when it would be Much More Convenient if I had just kept my account open.   I just tell them I have no plans to go back- I re-opened an old wound once already, why go through that again?- and for the most part, they seem to think that's ok.

Anyway, it's August 24 again, which means that in a few days I'll be back at school, getting paid to spend time with some of the most amazing people on the planet.   Maybe that's my birthday present.  And my Anniversary present, too.   Not bad.

Sensa's latest is so appalling, I refuse to watch it more than a few more times.

Ok look- as far as I'm concerned, every commercial which features beautiful women dancing around on a beach wearing bikinis is automatically elevated out of the "This Sucks" category.  So I'm not going to be a hypocrite and try to tell you that I found the ad itself annoying, obnoxious, or anything other than thoroughly enjoyable.

Instead, I'll just ask a few questions about the product itself.  I've seen other ads for this Sensa stuff, and as near as I can tell, it chemically removes the fat and carbs and animal oils from our favorite foods, leaving nothing but calorie-deficient vitamins and other good stuff behind.

Wait, it doesn't?  But these people are sprinkling it on huge cheeseburgers, hot dogs, ice cream- if it doesn't chemically alter that stuff, what does it do to help people lose weight?

Oh, I get it- if you sprinkle Sensa on your favorite junk, it makes it taste awful so you don't eat it?  No?

Does Sensa contain a chemical which makes the food expand in your stomach so you eat less?  No?

Ok, someone will write in and tell me what Sensa does- maybe even a spokesperson who will helpfully link me to several Reputable Sites which explain exactly how dusting fatty food with this stuff causes you to lose weight.  My guess is that if the Reputable Site is in fact Reputable, it will also include Helpful Diet and Exercise Tips.   I hope it includes more of these girls.

Regardless of what Sensa does or claims to do, I have to note here that at no point does the word "healthy" appear anywhere in this ad.  Which means it's just another "Smaller People are Better People" diet ad.  "I lost 45 pounds!"  Did your doctor suggest this- or were you just trying to meet someone else's expectations of you?  Do you feel better about yourself now that you've lost those 45 pounds?  Why?  Are you happy with your weight now, or do you feel you need to lose a "little more?"  Again, why?  Is it because you'd like to be one of those hot girls dancing on the beach?  Do you think they are happy?

It would be so cool if ads for ads for Diet Aids got off the "This is How you are Supposed to Look, Fasto" shtick and focused on health, wouldn't it?  But then, maybe there would be fewer people with eating disorders and low self esteem- and fewer customers for counselors, and Diet Aids.  Can't have that.

So- wouldn't you like to be one of these hot girls, confidently dancing on the beach in a bikini?  Aren't you sick of having (gasp!) body fat, you lazy cow?  Then sprinkle on some of this crap, get yourself Pretty, and get with the program.*

Wow, I sure got angry there.  I guess this commercial did suck, after all.  Despite the hot girls in bikinis.  I didn't think that was possible.

* http://rookiemag.com/2012/07/eating-a-manifesto/  -- I really love this article.  Enough to share.

"You set it up so well, so carefully....."-- The Eagles, "Lying Eyes"

If you find yourself spending so much time mopping your f---ing floor that the concept of sitting down and drinking a cup of coffee on the porch is mind-blowing,

1.  Your f---ing house is too f---ing big, you suburban mommy-wife handmaiden bubble-headed twit,

2.  You are not making effective use of your spawn.  There's one, right there on the f---ing porch, who looks more than capable of handling a mop,

3.  You need to have a talk with that jerk you married who thought that a house in the suburbs and babies would be a perfectly good exchange for your youth and sanity.  But hey, who am I kidding?  This is probably exactly what you wanted.

Oh, and BTW, I don't really believe that is actually coffee in that cup.  Neither do your kids, or your neighbors.  I doubt hubby cares, as long as dinner is on the table when he gets home.

Oh, and one more thing:  Your husband doesn't notice how clean the kitchen floor is.  Ever.

Made.  Bed.  Lie. 

Hey, Subaru: How many calories does shifting burn?

I know this Subaru ad is SUPPOSED to depict a supportive spouse/boyfriend doing everything he can to encourage wife/girlfriend to complete what I guess is supposed to be a grueling bike race.  He's making cardboard signs, he's at every turn to bleat bumper sticker slogans at her, and he's got pizza at the finish line.  Good for him.

But....I don't know why, but this whole thing comes off as forced, over the top and maybe even a little stalkerish.  I have relatives who have participated in marathons and other long-distance athletic events.  They certainly do appreciate the support of friends and family.  But the guy in this ad looks as if he's afraid that this woman is going to forget about him as she rides her bicycle.  He also acts as if he's the reason why she can make it to the end.   Maybe she's the problem- I may be wrong, but for one moment at the finish line, I get a "oh there you are,  I haven't seen or heard from you in several minutes, you got bored and went off and got a pizza you thoughtless jerk" vibe from her.  Then she sees that he's scrawled out another bumper sticker on the inside of the box, so they are all good.

I wonder if the girl really appreciates all this pushing, all this "I am part of this too"-ism from her guy.  I wonder if she appreciates the constant "you couldn't get through this without me" messages.  Most of all, I wonder if she wishes her guy were one-tenth as interested in vigorous exercise as he is in playing Supportive Spouse/Boyfriend while he drives Soon-to-Be Fat ass around in a Subaru, stopping every once in a while to wave a sign and buy pizza.

Personally, I'd settle for a "good luck, I know you can do it" kiss at the beginning of the race, and a cheer, a hug, and a ride home at the end.  And a partner who knew that the last thing I want to eat after miles of exhausting peddling and sweating is a spicy, cheap take-out pizza.   But I suspect that the guy in this ad doesn't have Clue One what a biker needs to recuperate after a serious ride, and the final scene is All About that stupid, cloying-cute sign.

I bet you could have convinced Olivia Newton-John to show up for very little cash, Nissan

Here's a Nissan Commercial using part of the song track from a 1978 musical set in the  1950s to pitch the 2013 versions of crappy Japanese cars.  I'm guessing it's supposed to be cute, and not cloying, stupid, annoying and really, really bad.  It fails.

I'm sure I could find more to snark about with this little nugget of nothing, but bad traffic meant that it took me almost 11 hours to drive 540 miles from Vermont to Maryland today, and I'm pretty out of it.  So that's all I've got.  I'm sure I'll make it up with a long-winded rant later in the week.