I admit it. I'm wasting time today. I mean, I'm working, and doing laundry, but I'm watching a steady diet of the barrel-scraping television that I love to make fun of. I'm only listening with one ear - I have a little TV in the kitchen. But the only thing I've recalled all day is the commercials.
There is a subset of channels - you know the ones; they run marathons of scary things that make you peek through your fingers - houses overrun by rats, people puking on camera, 3- year- olds dressed up like hookers and women willing to spend 10K on a wedding dress. Yeah, that TV. Anyway. The only thing I've paid attention to today is the ads.
I have seen several today that are for some new and improved drug. Because the American Commerical People make them list all the side effects (affects? whatever), they show someone smiling and wearing gentle colours and being productive, a little voice races through the downside: you may become dizzy or depressed or die; you might succumb to kidney disease or kill yourself; you might experience blurred vision or bowleggedness. Or perhaps start collecting rats or dressing your 3-year-old like a hooker.
The problem is that it takes 30 seconds to show the woman ballroom dancing or the man swinging his kid in the air all happy-like. Then it takes 90 seconds for them to fast talk their way through the oops part of the drug. It's like a little movie. And one that doesn't end well.
I suppose there are worse ads; if I see Russell Oliver once more yelling at me (I'm sure he spits on the lens), I'm just going to call him up myownself and tell him to buy some hair.
I also hate internet/cell phone/cable ads. Regardless of what is advertised, it is always, always, always my company, and a better deal than I just got suckered into. I hate you, technology. And I hate you useless companies who are only hankering for the next customer, instead of taking care of the ones you have. I've danced with you before - and I've caught you looking over my shoulder at another girl. Pffffft.
I am spooked by LinkedIn, or however you spell it. I am a little unsettled that you suggest I 'link' in with people who are in my address book, but not in my work world. I do not like this; I don't. Zappos and Aldo shoe sites do the same thing, but for some reason I am less disturbed when pictures of darling boots keep popping up in my size. That is helpful; LinkedIn is creepy.
I am becoming increasingly worried that our Prime Minister is running this country like his own private little kingdom. I am worried that nobody seems to care that decisions are being made that will affect us for decades, and he is doing it like the Wizard of Oz. I saw that movie just yesterday. I am terrified that there is no Toto to yank down the curtain on this cretin, and that nobody cares. We are sheep; we are assholes; we are being scared into lurching toward a government from which there will be little chance of recovery in my lifetime. This is not the Conservative party we grew up knowing. This is the Reform Party. Do not doubt that for a moment. Tell me where the revolution is going to take place. And, let's do it in the summer. It took Egypt 18 days. I'm sure we could do it in 18 hours, and then go for a latte.
My Wheels column yesterday was hating on those mommy-with-kids parking spots. Not a single negative email. I'm shocked. I thought I'd hear from the brigade who think their ovaries merit them speshul treatment. Nope. Not even my sister, who I KNOW used those spots, because I used to make fun of her. Hi, Gilly!
Now, I have to go BBQ and figure out which channel is PBS around here. Any Human Heart starts tonight. Absolutely one of the best books, ever, and it's been adapted for a miniseries by the original author, William Boyd. I hope it's as great as the book. I hope I can find PBS. I hope I can put on fresh flannel sheets and got to bed with wine and a cat and ignore the boys.
I'm off tomorrow to the Great White North. Grabbing a Nissan Murano and heading to Parry Sound. I am now a snowmobiler. Apparently.