Yes, I know traditional advertising is supposed to be dead.
Yes, I know 76% of people say they don’t trust or believe advertising (but I don’t believe them– no one wants to admit his/her opinion can be swayed by anything).
Yes, I know the consumer is king/queen/ruler of their media universe.
But for God’s sake, will advertisers please cut it out with the gonzo guerrilla tactics, lame product placements, ham-fisted promo/entertainment integration and convoluted tie-ins?! Using gospel music to sell Disney movies, praise be!I recently went to a Gospel Brunch at The House of Blues in Houston. The singers began pimping the new Disney movie “The Princess & The Frog” with free tickets and movie paraphenalia. It was like the gospel music was interrupting a big Disney commercial.
Give me some of that old time traditional advertising–– I’m sick of the loopy promotional tie-ins everywhere. Especially sports.
It’s just a matter of time until we’ll be watching a football game and hear commentators saying things like, “Anderson fumbles the ball and it’s another costly turnover. You know, Pepperidge Farm Turnovers never let you down with their delicious fruit fillings and flaky pastry crusts. Ummm, that’s some good eating on a hungry morning! Pepperidge Farm Turnovers, umm yum!”
“And there’s the two minute warning. You know, in less than two minutes you can easily compare affordable Progressive Insurance rates with four competitors. Sweet sassafras, could it get any easier to save yourself some money on insurance?!”
“It’s the Ford Focus third down. Third and three yards…”
“There’s the snap–and Snapper mowers keep any lawn looking beautiful– the hand-off to Wilson, who gains four yards. If you want to keep your yard crabgrass-free, Ortho Weed-B-Gone does the job quickly and easily. Kill that crabgrass dead!”
Look, just because you can put a promotional message somewhere doesn’t mean you should put a promotional message there.
Brothers and sisters, can I get an “Amen” on this. (The previous “Amen” was brought to you by Disney’s The Princess & The Frog, showing at a theatre near you.)
Millions of Americans are upset because their New Year’s resolutions have failed already, not even one full week into 2010.
“I swore I was going to drop 140 pounds,” said 295 pound Paul Obsurlk of Destin, Florida, “but I stepped on the scale today and I’ve gained three pounds. It’s just not right and I blame Obama!”Proof that his government failed him.
Kim Wrallings of Beechgrove, Tennessee vowed to quit smoking on New Year’s eve, but she lit-up shortly after waking on New Year’s day. “It was like I was totally helpless,” she said lighting a cigarette off the burning ember of the one she had been smoking. “All Obama talked about when he was running was ‘hope’ and I was hoping to quit. I feel betrayed, and when I feel betrayed I smoke even more,” the angry woman said flicking her lighted butt into this reporter’s face.
In Nampa, Idaho, Will Benttonfir blames the federal government for his failure to become a marathon runner. “I swore I’d run a marathon in 2010, but when I went out on January 1 and ran to the end of the block, I threw my cookies into a neighbor’s mailbox. I’m not up for 26 miles of that kind of pain and misery. Frankly I expected more from Washington. A lot more.”
Paul Flaxmoor of Manlius, New York also blames politicians for his woes. “I was going to be a big lottery winner and get out of the hellhole of a job I’ve got. But I haven’t won diddly-squat and I’m and really disappointed in our elected officials.”
When asked how much money Flaxmoor had spent on lottery tickets, the 61-year old salesman became livid. “Tickets? What do you mean ‘tickets?’ Don’t go talking to me about technicalities!” With that, the angry man slugged this reporter in the gut.
Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the 23-year old Nigerian terrorist who tried blowing up a Detroit-bound airliner on Christmas day, has received a fruit basket from a newfound fan: Tiger Woods.A sweet little something for terror dude from his new fan.Woods is appreciative to the terrorist wannabe for grabbing headlines and diverting attention away from Tiger’s numerous sexcapade scandals that have dominated the 24-hour news cycle since Thanksgiving.
“Tiger is a generous man,” said a spokesperson who asked to remain anonymous for fear of retribution and broken limbs. “He needed someone to take the heat off him and this pants-on-fire dude fit the bill perfectly. Tiger’s hoping he gets all the spotlights and ink he can stand.”
In addition to the lovely fruit basket (complete with pears, apples, oranges and other fancy fruits– plus little Dove chocolates), Tiger included an autographed 8″ x 10″ glossy along with some very candid shots of a few of his lady friends.
“Tiger is a extremely generous man,” the silent spokesperson said. “Please don’t tell him I said anything. Please!”
Arrive 6-8 hours before your scheduled flight for new underwear check. Please bring clean undies.In response to the recent attempt by Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab to blow up an aircraft with explosives he had concealed in his underwear, the TSA has announced new security regulations that include the removal of underwear and shoes before going through airport X-ray machines.
“We know it won’t be convenient,” said Chester Wilchoy, Sr. Officer of Being More Safer, “but it’s what we’ve got to go to nip this problem in the ol’ budderooski.”
In response to an attempted shoe bombing of an aircraft on December 22, 2001, TSA enacted regulations for all passengers to remove their shoes to be X-rayed. While passengers griped at first, they quickly became compliant sheep. The TSA expects similar response to the new underwear regulation.
“Yes, people will bellyache at first,” said Mr. Wilchoy, “and some folks will be embarrassed to strip down and place their undergarments in the plastic tray, but they’ll get used to it by and by. I mean, come on, let’s be mature about this. The Lord gave us birthday suits and we shouldn’t feel shame to wear them or pose for pictures in them.”
When asked how the TSA officials will handle those people who go ‘commando’, Mr. Wilchoy dropped to one knee, removed his gun from his holster and pointed it at the frightened reporter. “Commando sounds like terrorist trouble to me,” he said. He then demanded the scared journalist slip into something a bit more naked.
Cheer up, Gloomy Gus– Homeland Security’s your pal!Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, the 23-year old Nigerian man who attempted to bomb an American plane on Christmas day, was very lonely according to recently discovered online postings he made between 2005 -2007. Speculation is that the young man’s loneliness may have made him vulnerable and susceptible to following Al Qaeda orders to blow up an American jumbo jet. But Homeland Security officials have lept into action to curb the threat of future lonely bombers.
Effectively immediately, all TSA employees will engage passengers in conversation and offer to give them a back rub to ease pre-flight tensions. “We’re going to do whatever it takes to engage every passenger and make them feel like they have a friend and life is worth living and they shouldn’t blow up aircraft,” said an unnamed source in the Homeland Security Department. “If that means taking them to a nearby carnival and buying them some cotton candy, caramel apples or a pony ride, we’ll do it. We want to make sure everyone feels loved and accepted for who they are and that they have a friend in the TSA. Oh, it may take a little longer to get through airport security, but in times like these we all need to be willing to make sacrifices.”
Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, who is the youngest of 16 children, may have felt unloved and misunderstood by his parents. “It’s quite common for the 16th child to have loneliness issues,” said noted child psychologist Dr. Raymond G. Lillymutton, “they do not get the love and devotion that the first 15 children receive, so they naturally crave attention. The kind of attention terrorist organizations like Al Qaeda are so good at providing– what with their secret handshakes, explosive yet surprisingly comfortable undergarments and easy martyrdom program. It’s the kind of package designed to appeal to someone with 16th child loneliness issues.”
While I thought I had pulled the plug on my total hip replacement series, some people have asked for an update. They are either curious, or taking some sick pleasure in my pain. Either way, I’m happy to oblige.
In week #5 post-surgery, the doc gave me approval to drive. I eased back into work, limping about on a cane and toting a throw pillow to place on seats. Sporting a scruffy beard, I looked like a demented interior designer walking the halls of Ames Scullin O’Haire in search of the perfect place to accessorize with my throw pillow.The physical therapy regimen continues…In week #6, I began my out-of-home, in-office physical therapy. Aaron, my therapist who re-built me from my first hip replacement, was ready to begin the process all over again on the left side.
Physical therapy is a lot like torture, except giving vital information will not save you from further pain. But physical therapy and natural muscle healing is all I have to do to get better and be human again. It hurts, but I do as I am told. I’ve heard horror stories of people who went through hip or knee replacement surgery, but didn’t do the necessary therapy and consequently have pain and a store-bought joint because they didn’t heal correctly. No thank you. Bring on the pain, Aaron. He does, he most certainly does.
It hurts, but I don’t resort to popping muscle relaxers. I’ve eased myself off the goof, cold turkey-ish. If I need pain relief, I pop a couple Aleve and the little blue pills take the edge off in their powerful yet street legal over the counter way.… and I am feeling whole again.I don’t do sleeping pills either. I now sleep the rest of the exhausted. But, to quote comedy guru Chris Elliott, I “have a bladder like a little girl.” I awake a couple times a night to totter my way to the bathroom, relieve myself and return to bed. I must keep two pillows between my legs to keep the new hip in check and out of harm’s way crossing the evil hip precaution zone (NEVER cross legs in the first three months post-surgery).
My two pillows are like a fluffy chastity belt.
My wife begins to ask me how much longer I am going to keep the beard. “It’s prickly,” she says. “Kissing hurts. Besides, it makes you look older.” When you are getting into the region of old fartdom, looking older is not a good thing.Ancient bearded me.I had never grown a beard before I had had my first hip replacement. I liked the change of pace, the lazy maintenance of it. But, she didn’t much care for it back then and it eventually found its way to the barber’s floor. It was time to begin thinking of a similar fate for this beard. It would be gone very soon.Youthful clean-shaven me.
Week #7, I feel like I have my full energy back and I walk without a cane. Yes, I’m wobbly. Yes, I look like a mad sidewinder. Yes, it hurts somewhat. But I’m walking, dammit–– on two fake hips and a couple weak arthritic knees. It’s not pretty, but it is forward locomotion. I CAN WALK! I’m also climbing stairs with both legs alternately bearing load, like we all learned in step climbing school. No more slowly shuffling up steps on the good leg, descending on the weak one.
I also leave my pillow behind. I jack up the height of my office chair as high as it’ll go, and I’m extra careful to hoist myself out of chairs with both arms so as not to put undue pressure on my new hip. I don’t tempt fate by sitting in low rider chairs or couches. That’s a fool’s play, one that could send you back under the surgeon’s blade for some hip re-setting. That fear make me obey my hip precautions slavishly.I’m ready for my TSA inspection.Week #8, I take my hip on a test drive to the airport. I can walk, and now I will fly.
I make my way through my pals at TSA, I set off their security alarms and indicate I have TWO artificial hips. I get my “male assist” to wand me down. I beep on the left hip, I beep on the right. I’m patted down and deemed safe to pass. I gather my belongings and ask a nearby son to do me a solid and tie my shoes. I can’t do impossible tasks like that yet.
Life’s getting better all the time. I’m walking stronger on the road to recovery, eventually without a limp.
