More From the Idiot Box

Way back last year I wrote a little blurb about hockey. (You can read it here.) It’s that time of year again and I’m watching the Stanley Cup playoffs. My team is doing well, although they have, of late, been nail-bitingly difficult to watch. I have faith that they will prevail. Go Wings! (I promise that’s my only hockey plug.)

We should all know that TV doesn’t cater to viewers, it caters to advertisers. It’s hard to find programs that aren’t produced with the sole intent of trying to sell you something, and televised hockey is no exception. Even though the teams playing have changed in the past two months, the commercials haven’t. As much as I love to watch this game, I can’t help but be disillusioned by the companies that bring them to me. Perhaps you’ve seen some of them. Watch out, because I’m getting on my soapbox.

The Good: See it here: Bridgestone Tires
In this commercial, a man and (presumably) wife are driving on a road through a forest when a squirrel that happens to be sitting in the path of the vehicle sees them, and begins to scream. Normally computer generated animals with human voices creep me out, but for some reason, this one is funny. Anyway, as the squirrel screams, other animals in the forest begin to scream, each with a different voice, and finally we cut back to the oncoming vehicle where we see the woman in the passenger seat screaming. We get a full 10-15 seconds of blood curdling howls. The man smirks and calmly misses the squirrel, putting an immediate end to the din. You’d think it would be annoying, but it’s just funny. Maybe you have to love horror movies to find screaming funny, I don’t know. If I’m not mistaken, this commercial first aired during the Stupor, er, Super Bowl, so I guess it’s old hat. Call me crazy, but as far as commercials go, it’s still welcome.

The Bad: Accuvue Contact Lenses
In this one, two men are playing what appears to be “backyard” football (American), complete with matching uniforms, which is kind of weird. One man passes the ball to another, who bobbles, then drops it. The man who fumbled the ball immediately takes off his glasses and blames them for his inability to catch the ball. Once he’s fitted for contact lenses, though, his game is perfect. Now, as a person who has worn glasses since the fourth grade, I can tell you right now that as long as they are on your face, not covered in mud or you haven’t had your prescription updated, you can see. The man in the commercial has his glasses on when he mishandles his catch, so it was in his hands. How, then, did his glasses make him drop the ball? That’s like saying “I was going to kick the ball but my ear was in the way.” What message does this impart? It must be the “What can I blame my shortcomings on” lesson. Ridiculous.

The Ugly: Edge Shaving Gel
There are so many things wrong with this commercial. In the first part of this advertisement, we are asked what makes this shaving gel feel so enjoyable. We zoom down to the size of a dust mite on a cheek that needs to be shaved where whiskers are the size of trees, and beautiful women with tanks on their backs like flame throwers are squirting white foamy aloe and moisturizers all over the whiskers, and, of course each other. I’m OK with a fantasy like that. Women in bathing suits lolling about in a sea of whipped cream isn’t a bad thought at all. But, as soon as that commercial is over, the next comes on for Edge gel, but this time the selling point isn’t the moisturizing aspect, it’s the aroma. In the same vein, we are shrunk again to see an army of beautiful women wearing jet-packs on their backs, blasting off. Trouble is, they are flying up a huge nostril. As they enter, the woman at the center of attention has a look on her face that can only be described as anxiously exhilarated; she can’t wait to get up that nose. In the next scene, there’s a dance party going on in the nasal cavity, complete with music and a disco ball shining a thousand lights on a red mucous membrane wall. I find myself scratching my nose every single time I see it. I know some people have a fascination with various orifices, but the nose just doesn’t strike me as one that a person can’t wait to get into. Whoever thought this was a good campaign is wrong. It’s snot. (Cue drum/cymbal crash.)

Like it or not, television is here to stay, and I suppose I should be grateful to it for providing me endless fodder for “rant” essays. I love to hate TV.