Category Archives: Muddled Musings

HB Commercial of the Month (Super Bowl edition)

http://childpsychiatryassociates.com/?p=2787  

Every year, international corporations vie mightily for the semi-regular HB Commercial of the Month Award (celebrating its first anniversary…some day). Particularly on Super Bowl Sunday.

But before we announce the HBCMA winner (sorry for the nerve-wracking tension), a note on the Super Bowl itself. It sorta sucked a little.

But still interesting, because the story will become more dramatic over the decades as historical accounts replace actual. While it was a really a turnover- and penalty-ridden  slugfest, dramatic historians will rewrite it as the triumphant final run of Peyton Manning, finishing a Hall of Fame career with a Super Bowl trophy and a scoring pass.

So for the readers of this in centuries future, know this: It wasn’t that dramatic. Billed as a showdown between superstar quarterbacks, distanced by age, race and worldview, neither guy played particularly well. Truthfully, the game was a defensive gem, i.e., dull.

As, largely, were the commercials. If the 50th Super Bowl ads had a through line, it’s this: Pharmaceutical companies have way the hell too much money. Primetime Super Bowl ads on constipation and irritable bowel syndrome?  American poop must be big business. Budweiser commercials railing against drunk drivers? NFL ads on how the sport is really for women? You’re disqualified simply for hypocrisy.

The winning ad comes from, of all corporations, some organization called Avocados in Mexico, which touts exactly what you think. Hopefully, they’re as good as their ads. I don’t know who directed this, but said director deserves an immediate U.S. TV show, if only to counter the dull comets who orbit the reality show landscape. The ad:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ndPEQCoSzk

The literary award, though, goes to the ad for a Toyota Prius. In just 1 minute, 40 seconds the commercial manages to tell a story (a bumbling bank heist) establish sympathetic heroes (they leave some of the stolen booty to the car-theft victim) and manage a running story that would be worth watching. The director of this commercial deserves, at least, to be Michael Bay’s well-paid life coach, just to teach the guy succinct storytelling. The big winner:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYeM-8hO3hM

 

When I Was Four-Feet Tall, It Was a Very Good Year

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAFAEL!

To my dear dear nephew,

You are delightfully too young to realize it, but one day you will be delightfully old enough to remember the Olden Days.

One day, when you are ancient like me, a boy who is new like you will ask when you were born. And you’ll say “2010.” And his eyes will widen. He may whistle. And he will say “Wow, you don’t look old.”

And you can smile, and thank him (you have always been gorgeous, and will hear that often). And you can tell him this about the year of your birth:

  • The iPad was invented.
  • J.D. Salinger died.
  • The New Orleans Saints won the Super Bowl (though it coulda been Indy).
  • The average house cost $268,000.
  • A gallon of gas cost $2.73, bread was $2.49 a loaf and a pound of potatoes cost an average of 52 cents.

But that won’t really tell him what the Olden Days were like. That wasn’t really life in The Tens (use that term, just to blow his mind). To do that, you can tell him — as can all generations to the ones that follow — this:

“The Olden Days were wondrous, full of hugs and kisses, dancing and playing, smiles and laughter (so much laughter!).


“Of friends that would fight for you. Of family that would die for you. kidsRafiRomeo

“Why, in the Olden Days, a boy could turn six and lose count of all the creatures who loved him, thought of him, big and small.

“The Olden Days were sparkly, golden days.

“Like today.”

— uncle scott and the Hounds of Love

 

 

Watch Your Mouth, Sonny

 

I really should learn Spanish.

About all I know is hola, adios and Lo siento por los perros (Sorry about the dogs.).

I could have used a Spanish lesson today, at Ralph‘s. Mom has taught me to appreciate the affordable things in life, and I’ve found a wine so cheap I’d hesitate to call it low brow, lest it imply it’s got a brow. It can be found at your finer 7-11s, Circle Ks and Kum & Gos (a real chain, I swear.).

kumngo

I was looking for my cheap swill today when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find a diminutive elderly Hispanic woman, saying something in Spanish. She didn’t have a shopping cart, just a five-pack of Bic lighters in one hand.

She said something that I assume was akin to “Would you please help me reach something?” But knowing nary a Spanish vowel, she may have been saying, ‘Yo, gringo cracker, I need something.’

And after what happened, I kind of hope she did.

I shook my head at her words, told her I didn’t understand Spanish (oh yeah, another term you have to know here). She took me by the arm, led me to the Coors beer refrigerator, and pointed to drinks on the top shelf, beyond her reach.

Already, I was tickled at the notion that granny needed to get her drink on. Then I fell more deeply for her.

I touched a 12-pack. 12 packShe shook her head, nodded left.

I touched a six-pack. sixpackShe shook her head, nodded left.

 

Finally, I touched a tall can of Coors light, the biggest can in the fridge.

can

She nodded, beckoned for it. I brought it down, then asked the final word I know in Spanish: “Uno?”

She nodded and, without word, padded toward the checkout. Bics in her left hand, a Coors Light in her right. And my mind collapsed on itself with questions: Was she getting it for her husband? (Probably not, unless she’s put him on a limit.); Was this her way of unwinding?; does she enjoy the NFL playoffs with some smokes and brew?

I knew the answers none, but it was fun to picture her kicking back, making smoke rings and burping. And reminded me; I’ve got to learn the Spanish translation of “Ma’am, you are one of the coolest badasses I ever met.”