The Pop Cultures of Yogurt Fanaticism

Maybe you guys can help me out.

• Have you ever made a scene in public due to the joy of an enzyme-based milk product?

• At gatherings with friends and family, does the conversation naturally lead to bloating, irregularity, and the miraculous relief you find through a daily cup of bacteria-laden dairy?

• Do you feel yogurt flavors are perfectly comparable with finely-made baked goods?

• Have you ever swirled your hand in a sweeping motion, as the unspoken International Gesture of Happily Irrigated Bowels?

I ask because, being Lactose Disgruntled myself, I have not enjoyed any of these experiences. And, based on the persistent commercials on television right now, I'm getting the impression that there's a Train of Feel Goodness, Beauty and Wonder rolling on through, carrying better health, gourmet delicacies, and unmatched vitality... And I'm the only one who hasn't leapt aboard singing and waving.

I'm starting to wonder if it's this Outside Looking In perspective that's causing Jamie Lee Curtis-- in her single-minded Activia enthusiasm of late-- to seriously annoy me.

I feel bad about it, too. I mean, I was full of empathy for her when she was on serial killer Michael Myers' shit list in Halloween.

I chuckled with her as she manipulated John Cleese using humor, initiative and a new set of implants.

But now... now I just want to push her off that stupid green Activia sofa and shout, "For the love of Wanda, please, please, please stop talking!" every time she turns a perfectly normal discussion into the Wide, Wide World of Intestinal Bacteria.

Then there's the Dan-o-nino jingle that runs every five minutes on BBC America. Based on its name, Dan-o-nino is apparently the first yogurt targeted specifically to Latino and Hispanic boy children. Or large climactic irregularities. I'm not sure which.

Actually, I hope it's the last one, because given all the probiotic hubbub, the thought of marketers suggesting the product causes sudden wind and weather shake-ups just makes me laugh.

Anyway, before I even got done picking apart the name of the thing, my brain got a hold of the repetitious jingle, where small children sing the "Dan-o-nino" name, oh... like... ten times to infinity until I'm ready to stick a yogurt spoon through my ear.

I find myself doing things around the house, with "Dan-o-nino... Dan-dan-no-nino" running through my brain.

And yes, I know-- some would suggest that creating something that's so catchy is good marketing.

Some would say it's the irritating quality of the Dan-o-nino song and name that's what's getting the product press right now through my blog at this very minute, and isn't it clever?

Of course, some would also say it's wrong to stick a spoon through your ear or push Jamie Lee Curtis off the sofa.

We can just agree to disagree.

Second Childhood with Hoveround Commercial

Every time I watch the Hoveround ad-- where seniors in power chairs ride around in formation to pseudo-Beach Boys music-- it takes me back.

Back, y'know, to when I was an octogenarian with a hip fracture, and the only way to keep myself in pudding cups and hair bluing was to hit the highways on my mean, lean, geriatric machine.

(I'm like Merlin, you see. I live life backwards. I should be thin, pert, and getting my braces off in just a couple of decades.)

.....

.....

Okay, so... no.

But it does take me back! Back to my childhood in the 7os...

I see the Hoveround commercial, and it's like the smell of fresh Play-Doh suddenly gets ground into my ol-factory senses, instead of the carpeting where it belongs...

And in the back of my mind--

--The only place unaffected by the fumes of those plastic rainbow-colored bubbles we used to squeeze from a tube and blow into shapes with a straw (remember those? the chemicals from that stuff could peel your Kool-Aid mustache clean off)--

In the back of that fume-addled mind, I find myself recalling ads for Big Wheels... Power Wheels... and Sit 'n' Spins.

I can't track it down online to verify, but I swear the Sit 'n' Spin jingle sounded a lot like the Hoveround song:

"Some kids go when they Sit 'n' Spin..."

"I go, go, go on my Hoveround..."

As the word "go" in these examples can indicate both "speed" or "incontinence" equally well for either demographic, I think there might just be something to the comparison.

Something subliminal... Something saying, "Buy this for the senior you love and maybe he'll let you borrow it for some sweet jumps."




Of course, it could just be those fumes again.

So before I leave you today, I treat you to two little blasts from the past-- a 70s Big Wheel ad, and a commercial for the fun... the fumey... Super & Elastic Bubble Plastic:







PS-- If the next Hoveround ads show Grandma, Grandpa and Great-Uncle Pete doing spin-outs, popping wheelies, and jumping ramps in the bingo parlor parking lot, just remember-- you heard about it here first, folks!

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Humorbloggers

Pineapples and Pen Pushers

"You can slice a pineapple in mid-air!" enthused the voice on the TV, advertising Miracle Blade Knives.

I stopped what I was doing and tried to think of a scenario where anyone would NEED to slice a pineapple in mid-air...

Possibly if a poorly-armed Polynesian gang moved into the neighborhood.

Or if I were part of a troop of fruit-juggling circus performers, and the act needed some serious spicing up.

Otherwise, it makes you wonder just a bit what the brainstorming sessions for these made-for-TV products look like.

Ah, picture it... The lead product marketing manager stands at the front of the oval table. "So, people, what sets this product apart from the competition? What do these knives DO? "

A small voice pipes up from the peanut gallery around the table, "Well... they cut food, Sir...?"

"Of course they cut food!" the boss snaps. "All knives cut food. I don't want to market knives that make eating easier. I want to market knives that can... oh, I don't know... cut through concrete blocks, or something."

"SuperMegaChop already does that, Sir," one marketing flunkie points out.

"Okay, then--" continues the lead marketer musing a moment. (I like to think of him as played by Brian Doyle Murray in a bad toupee.) "I want a knife that can... saw through a car hood!"

"MarvelBlades beat us to it, Sir," another lackey says. "They also market the MarvelGlue to put it together again, and the Marvel UltraSuedoShammyPlus to buff it out."

"Fine, fine, fine. Then I want a knife that can--"

"Cut a pineapple in mid-air, sir?"

"Smithers, you're a genius!"

I also always get a kick out of the ad for Gevalia Coffee (or rather, Kafe, for those of us whose finely-tuned tastebuds prevent us from spelling anything in English). Have you seen this one?

The employee is sitting in his office trying to look like he doesn't need to be downsized, when his friend comes in and brings him a cup of coffee. Aw, what a nice gesture, we think. What a wonderful colleague. But this guy, our executive, HE TURNS IT DOWN.

Does he say he's cutting back on coffee? That he's just had a cup?

Why, no. Instead, he says, he's "going to get his own." And he does it in this smooth, cocky tone of voice that makes you think he either skunked his coworker who's been trying to poison him to get that office with the window... or coffee's the keyword for him to go have a morning tryst with Lydia, the office supply girl.

Anyway, he grabs his coat and goes outside, where he completely passes by lovely cafes and well-stocked coffee carts. Instantly, he steps onto the bus (like anyone ever gets a bus that quickly in the city) and...

HE GOES HOME.

Yes, in the end scene, we see him sitting there on his comfy sofa, sipping his beloved Gevalia Kafe in a moment of quiet reflection, the cares of the day washing away. Of course, it also looks like it's about 9am , so his cares were probably related to the bus ride IN.

The irony here is, the next thing Gevalia tells us is how if you sign up to receive Gevalia, you'll get a handy travel mug.

No one has apparently told our executive about the travel mug.

Nope. He's just blissfully unaware that when he gets back to the office after his refreshing coffee moment, clients will be burning mad looking for him...

He'll have missed the entire brainstorming session on kitchen knives....

And Brian Doyle Murray's going to finally remember he'd meant to fire the guy three weeks ago.

It's just as well, because he'll never get another coffee or donut in that office again. And who knows WHAT he'd get for the Secret Santa at the holiday party. I'd imagine it'd be travel mug. Every year for the rest of his tenure.

So, tell me folks-- what commercial have YOU seen which makes you wonder how it ever got on the air? Inquiring minds want to know. :)


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