Cheerios- never miss an opportunity to miss an opportunity

I hear conversations like this between "parents" and their children all the time- kids asking questions, "parents" going out of their way to not answer them in a way which might make their kids just a little smarter.  The kid in this commercial is not being especially annoying- he's not bleating "can I have it can I have it" or "whats that" or throwing a tantrum or anything.  He's asking his father why he is picking a particular cereal.

Hey, dad- that really, really loud knock you are hearing?  That's opportunity.  Here's a chance to share.  Here's a chance to give your kid some information.  Some of us call these Teachable Moments.   I'm not a parent, but I was a kid, and I know these Moments come up only about 4000 times a day.  And from my experience out in the public, I also know that they are ignored about 3999 times a day.  You seem pretty determined to avoid doing anything to help your kid understand why you are buying that Cheerios.  I wonder why.

Instead, you respond with half-sentences delivered in a monotone which sounds like nothing more than "stop talking to me."  "Why did you buy that?"  "It's my cereal."  "Is there a prize?"  "Yes."  "Is it a dinosaur?"  "No."  It's like you are allergic to the idea of providing information to your kids.

And this is something else I witness a lot - parents who instead of answering questions insist on having the questions asked again and again AND AGAIN until everyone within twenty yards is grinding their teeth wishing they could work up the guts to answer for them.

I heard this question at my local Shoppers Food Warehouse just TODAY:

"Why do we need to buy bread"
Parent:  No Response.
"Why do we need to buy bread"
Parent:  No Response
"Why are we buyin' bread?"
Parent:  No Response
"Why are we buyin' bread?"
Parent:  "To make sandwiches for your lunch."
"Oh ok."

(Seriously, do you morons think we are in love with your kid's voices, or what?)

Ok, back to this commercial.  Instead of the cryptic smarmy "there's a prize all right," how about talking to this kid about how some foods are healthy and make us feel better and live longer, happier lives?  You know, instead of this non-informative crap about prizes?  I mean, anytime you want to start actually RAISING that kid instead of just making sure he doesn't play in traffic until he's 18 and can kicked to the curb would be fine with us.  Moron.

Oh, and by the way- when there's someone behind you in line, scan your own goddamned groceries and don't let your kid do it, unless you are actually willing to show him how and not just to let him fail for ten minutes before you mutter something in disgust and do it yourself.   We have lives too you know.

Oh shut up, Martyr Mom

Here's some advice for this woman- when you nail yourself to that cross, bring a friend.  It's a pain in the butt to get that last spike in.

Seriously, lady.  You've got diabetes, but you've also got a husband and kids and a big house which means you are always on the go Doing Everything For Everyone Else so it's Really Hard to keep your blood sugar balance, blah blah blah.  So you guzzle these nasty milkshakes because you are just soooooo busy taking care of your family and keeping that house clean you selfless, forever sacrificing angel you.  Seriously, I can't believe two Saints are being added in Rome this week and we can't fit you in too.

Hey, look, stupid.  If you can't eat a balanced diet because you are married and have kids, you are doing a really crappy job organizing your life.  My mom had five kids and a job and she managed to feed herself- it wasn't that complicated, she was making food for her family anyway.  I think the idea here is that Joan of Arc is such a whirlwind of activity, packing lunches, playing chauffeur, and cleaning cleaning cleaning that she's basically decided that actually eating a balanced meal just doesn't fit into her schedule.  If that's true- lady, your schedule sucks.  You are doing it wrong.  And drinking Glucerna until you graduate to Ensure isn't anywhere close to the best solution.

I can't believe we are supposed to think this woman is even sensible, let alone worthy of admiration.  You are being a idiot, mom.  Get some rest.  Get some exercise that doesn't involve changing a diaper or packing a lunch.  Eat three decent, balanced meals a day.  This frentic "I can't stop and breathe 'cause I'm a MOMMMMMYYY so I must live on an expensive version of Slim Fast" is just insulting.

Anyone in Advertising ever exercise, ever?

Because after a brutally hard workout, what's better than a big bowl of cold strawberries topped with Reddi Whip?

Pretty much anything, actually.

Unless, of course, you like to wrap up a good round of exercise with nasty stomach cramps.

Hey, desk jockeys of the advertising world:  Here are some good ideas for after-workout consumption:  Water.  Gatorade.  Powerade.  Pasta.  Potatoes. Cold fruit and fake whipped cream? Ehhhhh....not so much.

Typically nice house, though.  Everyone in every commercial lives in a nice house.  In this case, I guess that's the compensation for really bad intestinal pain.

At the moment, I don't feel like a priority, USPS

I've trashed the US Postal Service on more than one occasion through this blog.  It usually involves my annoyance at the dwindling number of boxes available in the neighborhood and the habit the local post office has of delivering mail every other day or so, and pretty much never on Saturdays (when I heard that the post office was going to cancel Saturday mail delivery, I had to remind myself that such a thing still existed.  The good people of Takoma Park Maryland will not miss Saturday mail delivery because it's been basically non- existent for years.

Here's my latest rant, triggered by this commercial which tells me that I am a priority of the United States Postal Service.  On Thursday April 10 I flew to Vermont for spring break.  Before leaving, I arranged to have my mail held by that wonderful US Postal Service which considers my convenience a priority.  I checked the box which stipulated that mail delivery would be resumed on Monday April 21, and all held mail would be delivered on that date.

Here's the confirmation I received from USPS:

Your hold mail request April 14 - April 21, 2014

You have requested Hold Mail Service for 04/14/2014. Keep your confirmation number handy in case you need to edit or cancel this request. If your mail is currently being held, it can not be cancelled. But you can still change the end date.

Ok, so I had a great time in Vermont and got back on Sunday.  USPS let me know they hadn't forgotten about me, because I had this notice in my email box (the only mail box USPS currently seems to recognize:)

The last day for your hold mail request is April 20, 2014 .

Your Hold Mail Service for April 14 - April 21, 2014 is ending. We'll be resuming your regular mail delivery on 04/21/2014. Remember to pick up your held mail at the Post Office® if you're not having it delivered to your address.

Can you guess what the problem is?  You got it- it's Wednesday afternoon, April 23, and I have yet to receive my accumulated mail- or any mail, period.   Hmm.....acknowledgement of hold request.  Notification of resumption of mail delivery.  Everything working fine....except.....resumption of mail delivery.

Thanks, USPS.  It's great to know I'm a priority.  Maybe you could let the people at the Takoma Park Maryland post office know.  They haven't got the memo.  Maybe you sent it USPS?

I wonder what the "Certificate of Authenticity" says

I heard this commercial on the radio this morning, and really hoped I could find a television version.  Imagine my delight to discover EXACTLY the same commercial in video form on YouTube.

Ok, there's not a whole lot going on in my life right now.  Sue me.

Anyway, I can imagine that these "Angel Coins" are big sellers in places like Kentucky, Tennessee, Oklahoma, Kansas- you know, the "Bible Belt."  Where people are long on faith and very, very short on brains and common sense.  I'm not talking about the entire populations of these states, mind you- there are plenty of naive, superstitious idiots in my old neighborhood, too- but silly people with notions of guardian angels and magic coins and amulets and charms and lucky numbers and such do seem to congregate in such places.  These people always seem to be worried about money unless there are Stormin Norman Commemorative Plates or Seal Team Six Commemorative Coins or Remember 9/11 Medallions or Tributes To A Coin That Was Worth Something in 1883 Clad With A Tiny Bit of Actual Silver being sold on late-night tv shows.  Then they seem to go a little nuts, because after all- these things might be worth something someday- right?

I don't know if the story this commercial starts with is true or not- nor do I really care.  So a prisoner of the Committee on Security prayed to a piece of money (good as any deity, I guess) and then he was spared execution- so what? What if he had used that money to bribe the jailer to set him free-would that have made the "Angel Coin" even more magical?

And besides, the coin this guy inexplicably decided to pray to isn't being offered for sale here- just a copy.  An alleged copy at that- how do the sellers even know what the original coin looked like?  Why would a copy carry the "powers" of the original "Angel Coin," even if I could be convinced that the original had any power at all?

Oh well, I guess it doesn't really matter, since I'm not the target audience here- I'm not an uneducated, middle-aged rube who thinks that the universe (and the everyday life of individuals) is being governed by invisible spirits who live in bits of metal.   But cheer up, suckers- if I'm wrong, you'll get the last laugh during the next revolution, when I'm beheaded and you get away unharmed because you locked in your Dazzling One Ounce Historic Surprisingly Affordable Low Price Angel Coins minted in London, England (as opposed to London, Ontario I guess) and I was being a snarky non-believer.

Only funny if you are the audience this is aiming for.

The joke here is that this twee cutesy song is the background in a commercial for yet another vicious, stupid, pointlessly violent video game.  Funny, huh?

Here's an even bigger joke- the pasty, allegedly "adult" losers who are wasting their lives on this crud.  If they are "Mature," that word does not mean what I thought it meant.   Me?  I'm heading outside again.  Beautiful day, interesting people, and all that.  Don't expect I'll be running into the zombies who devote so much of their lives to this brain-dead junk.  Fine with me.

The next time this thing hits my tv, I'm throwing a brick through it

The only believable thing about this god-awful insulting pile of dung is that it features Vanilla Ice working as a grocery store stock boy.  Hey, everyone has to earn a living.

The rest of it- oh lord, every time I think commercials can't possibly get any worse, something like this pops up.  It's not even that Vanilla Ice seems genuinely excited about stacking infinite boxes of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese shaped like characters popular 25 years ago (when I had pretty much the same job 25 years ago, I was nowhere near this enthusiastic, sorry.)  It's that this insane woman goes into weird convulsions which I guess are supposed to be a combination of ecstasy over actually meeting Vanilla Ice (she doesn't look fifty, how does she even know who he is?) and the thrill of anticipation over consuming orange cheese-flavored fatty crud with her idiot kid who Now Thinks She's An Idiot.

Anyway, I expect I'll need a new tv soon, because they are playing this commercial during Cosmos, which is rapidly becoming my favorite show.