Someone do me a favor and stick a foot out in front of Mrs. I'm The Only Person on the Planet (known on the interwebs simply as "Karen") as I suspect that's the only way to let her know that she is, in fact, NOT the only person on the planet. What's with the insane look on her face? Is that supposed to be "determination?" Because it looks more like "Get out of the way, I don't give a damn about you" to me.
Until that happens, I actually have only one question about this ad: Is this what owning an iPhone does to a person, or does the only type of person who would own an iPhone is also the type who doesn't give a damn if she stampedes people to get a perfect shot?
This is one of those commercials that make one eternally grateful for the mute button. Seriously, I never get more than three seconds in before I hit that precious feature of my remote, and man is this commercial weird when it's watched in blessed silence.
That said- what the hell is the matter with the Mannings? I'm already immune to what I'm told is their "charms"- I got through about five minutes of the insufferable, pointless blather they provide on ESPN's Monday Night Football coverage before hitting that aforementioned precious, precious mute button. Monday Night Football with the Peytons should be used to extract information from suspected terrorists at Gitmo. Do these two idiots have any shame at all? I know they are addicted to attention, but do they really need what must be an insignificant amount of money being tossed at them by Caesar's Sportsbook to promote a serious addiction?
Whatever is happening before the Mannings start what I'm sure is hi-LARIOUS commentary in this particular ad, I really don't want to know. Maybe it's the Boomer in me, but I'm sure I couldn't appreciate it even if I listened. But without sound, it just looks supremely stupid, bizarre, and frankly offensive. Not as offensive as the onslaught of commercials hyping the "excitement" of gambling- I don't think anything reaches that level- but pretty damned close. Sometimes I'm glad I'm old.
The woman in this ad has a USAA Credit Union membership because her father served in the armed forces, and he "passed his membership down to her." So neither she, nor her husband, has any connection at all to the armed forces. And she tells Gronk that she's going to "pass it down" to her daughter when she's old enough to have an account. That means that in 20 years or so USAA Credit Union will have at least one member who not only doesn't serve in the armed forces, but maybe never even MET anyone who ever served in the armed forces. Was that the original intent?
I went to High School with someone who served - and continues to serve- in the armed forces. To my mind, that makes me at least as adjacent to military service as that little girl. Why can't I apply for a USAA account?
Every day, hundreds of thousands of elderly people all over the United States take their blood sugar measurements using finger stick devices, sometimes more than once a day, and I'm guessing without a complaint 99 percent of the time. My father had his blood sugar tested twice a day for the last several years before he passed. He never complained, even when we screwed up and were unable to get a reading and had to pop that needle into his finger again. And, sometimes, Again.
This guy has tats all up and down his arms, but "finger sticks are a real challenge?" What the hell? Talk about Selective Sensitivity. Some idiot in a dirty tattoo parlor can work a needle and ink into his skin for hours, but he finds it a "challenge" to prick his finger with a tiny pin? Seriously, buddy, put your Big Boy pants on and man up. This is a First World Problem if ever I saw one.
I only watched enough of this horror to note that Jamie Foxx, hyped at the "opportunity" to place a bet on a basketball game, is frantically looking for some insider information before doing so- something that virtually none of the potential customers of this electronic drug have any chance of doing themselves.
I used to wonder how much money was waved in front of people to act like total morons on television in showing the world "what they would do for a Klondike bar." Now we've got multi-millionaire Oscar winners picking up a few extra bucks- and, I think more significantly, screen time- peddling an addiction that has, not at all mysteriously, exploded into an epidemic at exactly the same time that the economy took the double hits of COVID unemployment followed by a spike in the cost of living.
Now I feel badly that I ever criticized those attention vampires, just like I feel less animosity toward celebrities who hawk Rent a Center and junk car and home "warranties." That's nothing compared to what people like Foxx are doing- presenting as glamorous and exciting the opportunity to risk money on sporting events, hyping that rush of dopamine that comes with taking that risk, and never, EVER mentioning the financial consequences of losing the bet. That's saved for the very small print on the bottom of the screen along with the "if you need help, here's the toll free number to get you the help you need because we sucked you in." How very, very thoughtful.
I'm going to start my New Year's by staying away from addictive products with one exception. I'm going to continue to not indulge in sugar and alcohol. But don't bother me about coffee. I like coffee. I can quit any time I want to, it doesn't negatively impact my personality so LEAVE ME ALONE ABOUT COFFEE!
Whenever I see one of these "hey look at our stupid small business" commercials, I just have to ask something. No, it's not "did either of you two ever think that you'd actually be providing something of value to society before you gave up and went the Pointless, Worthless, Forgotten-As-Soon-As-You're-Gone Small Business route?' Because I know the answer to that question: It has to be "yes." Nobody grows to adulthood actually dreaming of someday tapping into a niche market and then spending the rest of one's life pandering to people with a little extra money burning holes in their pockets. Whether it's Kathy's Kwirky Kupcakes or the cheese shop run by these two cliches, this is nobody's original dream.
Nor is the question "am I really supposed to buy the frozen plastic smiles you idiots are giving us as you pretend to be happy with what life ultimately handed you?" Because I know the answer to that question: It's supposed to be "yes," I'm supposed to be happy that there's a stupid little business selling a stupid little product to stupid little people and that yet another Idiot With a Dream can call himself a Boss for at least a little while longer because a credit card improves his ability to separate those stupid little people from their stupid little money at your stupid little vanity project.
Nor is the question "am I really supposed to think better of Capital One because they finance this nonsense?" Because I know the answer to that question, too; it's supposed to be "yes," because of the American Dream or Small Business being the backbone of America or something like that. Never mind that it's so very easy to imagine life without 99.9 percent of the Sacred Small Businesses out there. And no, it's not a dystopia I'm imagining. It's just a country with a few less junk trinkets, food and drink shops and a lot more people accepting reality and getting actual jobs.
No, my question is "how do you get through every day without jumping off the nearest tall building? Do you just not think about what your legacy is, Mr. and Mrs. Small Business Owner? Did the fact that you clearly died years ago and are just going through the motions with Whatever The Hell This Is really help that much?" Because, man...a specialty cheese store. I bet your ancestors went through so much crap to get you to this country, too. For this. Stay away from skyscrapers.
I guess we should just be grateful that the car at the end of this commercial isn't adorned with a bow, but that's pretty much the only thing this ad has going for it. Otherwise it's just awash in ridiculous entitlement and indulgence- cripes, they can even warp time and space because they want to- and apparently trying to sell us a product that is just another bauble in the lives of people who have absolutely everything (INCLUDING the ability to manipulate matter at a whim.)
They are SO enraptured with their own awesomeness that they make changes that serve no utility whatsoever- I mean, why does the guy change the painting as they are heading out for the evening? What is the freaking point? Does the cat prefer the new art style? WHY THE HELL DID HE DO THAT?
The only way this commercial is redeemed is if it ends with a meteor vaporizing this couple just before they exit the driveway of their ridiculous home. It doesn't, so "C" is an inflated grade for everyone involved in this travesty.
