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Charlie Hatton
Brookline, MA
« To Sleep, Perchance to Obsess | Main | For the Love of God, Bob, Get That Thing Away from Me! »
I was talking to a friend a couple of days ago, when we stumbled upon one of life's great mysteries. And I'll tell you what it was, just as soon as this sentence is over... which is... now.
Why is it, of all the crappy local businesses that advertise on TV and radio, that used car lots and furniture stores have the absolute worst spots of all time? Is it some kind of weird union thing? Are they somehow obligated to use themselves in their ads, rather than real actors, and to stand there like broomstick-violated marionettes delivering lines with all the subtlety of Stephen Hawking's voicebox? What's the explanation, dammit?
Seriously, is there some sort of conspiracy afoot here? And what's the connection between the used lemons on an oversized parking lot and bedroom suites in a gaudy showroom? None of the other local commercials -- whether for restaurants, radio stations, realtors, or whatever -- none of these people in these things get all googly-eyed and shouty-throated when they want to peddle their shit in our direction. What is it about a leather sofa or a 'barely-used' Dodge that makes people so frigging crazy?
And how is it that the people running these businesses get away with such flimflammery, anyway? Just because they own the joint and pay for the ad, they think it's okay to dress up like an idiot and scream at us for thirty seconds at a time? Have none of them figured out that it's not the way to go? You don't see the people at Schick yelling at the top of their lungs at us:
'Four blades! Four fucking blades, people!! It's Quattro! Buy it! Shave with it! Four blades, dammit! Foooooouuuuuuurrr!!!'
Or that big Hi-C pitcher dude getting all up in our bidness, trying to sell his sugary shit:
'Yo, get your ass down to the store and get your Hi-C, fool! You don't drink Hi-C, I'll kick your pansy ass! I swear to God, I'll break off part of my own head and cut you, gringo! Drink Hi-C!'
So what's up with the divan dealers and Peugeot peddlers, then? It's not like people get especially excited about buying their shit, compared to other cool stuff out there, like electronics and tequila and mail-order brides. But it's not completely boring stuff that would require that kind of lubed-up insanity to sell, either. I could see selling legal pads or nasal spray or tickets to a golf match that way -- hell, something's gotta get people excited about that snoozy crap. But used cars and furniture? I just don't fricking get it.
Anyway, that's what's on my mind at the moment, I suppose. Hey, it's better than another boring post about how much poopy work I'm doing, right? I never promised you people Shakespeare every day. Looks like 'broomstick-violated marionettes' is as good as it's gonna get tonight around here. Ah, well. At least it's free, eh?
In Sarasota we have two cow-suited people, one bunny-suit, and a guy in a mattress suit. I don't know what they're going to do in July and August...
Speaking of annoying commercials... they have TV's all over the trading floor where I work (and attempt to concentrate and write code) and I hear that damn commercial for some car service (I think it's Tel Aviv Car Service) where the guy screams... "taxi... TAXI... TAAAAAAXIIII!!" about a million times a day. It is quite possibly the most annoying one EVER.
First off it's kool aid not Hi-c, well at least in the normal states it's Kool Aid.
As for the used car salesmen, they don't yell a lot here but they do act like complete frigging morons. My least favorite would have to be Bob Rohrman, good lord he's a douchebag.
Aw, dammit. Jeff's right -- it's Kool Aid, not Hi-C.
Shit. I've gone and gotten my sugar-soaked fake-fruity hyperactive kids' drinks mixed up again. Color me Sunny D-lirious. Or Hawaiian Punch-drunk. Dammit.
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Picking up on that Quatro comment...
A local station is replaying old (i.e. Chevy Chase / John Belushi) Saturday Night Live episodes.
They did a "fake" commercial about a "3 blade razor".
The Shlick 3-blade razor. That's right! Three blades! Why do we do this? Because you morons will believe any crap we tell you, that's why!
I thought it was funny they were making a joke about double-blades, and now they're seriously trying to sell four blades.
I'm waiting for the new 97 blade razor. It'll be a hockey mask with a handle completely lined with razor blades. You push it on your face and move it an 1/8th of an inch and your entire head will be shaved to the bone.