As Advertised

Dodge tells me to Grab Life by the Horns, yet every time I do, it seems as if they’re slathered with I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Well, I really can’t believe it’s not butter, but that’s another story.

So, there I am, sliding off of life’s horns, when a large pair of hands catches me. After all, Like A Good Neighbor, State Farm Is There, except where is there? Is it hanging out with the attractive folks from the Coors Light commercials? Why is my insurance salesperson drinking beer and ogling these people? Is there something else they’d like to be doing with those big hands? I’d rather not know.

Eating lunch out has become unbearable. I wander the streets, wondering if I should Eat Fresh, be Loving It, Think Outside The Bun, or Do Chicken Right. Usually, I’ll go into an independent sandwich shop, thinking I’ve escaped the advertising gauntlet, until it comes time to accessorizing my meal. Should I have the chips I can’t eat just one of, or do I opt for a colorful bag of peanuts hawked by a large goober pea wearing a top hat and a monocle? Do peanuts even have eyes? My drink selection is even more complex. Should I Do The Dew, Be A Pepper, or Open Happiness? I’ll have water please, from the tap.

Even home life is no longer a refuge. Every cupboard and drawer I open screams a string of enticing and inviting slogans.

“Hey, buddy. Check it out, It’s Good To The Last Drop!”

“Psst! Over here, Choosy Moms Choose Jif!”

“Awww, forget about them, look at these rolls, They’re Fresh From The Oven, hmm-hmm!”

All this sales pressure gives me a headache, so I head to the medicine cabinet and open the mirrored door, my pounding head not understanding what we’ve unleashed until it’s too late.

“Antacids, get your antacids here!”

“Feeling bloated, constipated, irritable?”

“Dry eyes? Get Clear Eyes.”

“Plop, Plop, Fizz, Fizz, Oh What A Relief It Is.”

“More doctors recommend Tylenol than any other brand.”

“Nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, diarrhea, yeah!”

I slam the door and rush upstairs to take a shower. All these ads make me feel dirty. As soon as I’ve stripped down and closed the curtain behind me, I realize my fatal error.

“Hey there. Looks like you’ve got dry skin.”

“Honey, that dandruff has got to go!”

“Don’t listen to them. All you need is this soothing herbal remedy.”

“First, let’s get that toe fungus cleared up, mister.”

“Phew! Would you look at all that body hair! Time for some intimate grooming.”

Later, beaten down and broken, I’ve escaped to my pitch-black garage. I wear a generic robe as I sit on my no-name beach chair and sip tap water. All is quiet, calm, devoid of pressure. Then, what sounds like a man clearing his throat interrupts my tranquility. The sound comes from the direction of the only other thing parked in here with me. “Grab Life By The Horns, dude.”

Dammit.

Hey, that’s all folks! I hope I’ve entertained you, even just a little. Hell, if we can’t escape advertising, we may as well laugh along with it, right? After all, it’s not all bad. If we’re honest, we all do a bit of promoting in our daily lives, don’t we? It’s part of our humanity, and that’s okay. Just remember, everything in moderation.

Until next week, whatever you are, tell the world and be a good one!

-Dave