I hate television and radio commercials. I loathe them. I don’t watch a lot of tv. Mostly because there is not anything fit to watch, except Two Broke Girls, Downton Abbey and an occasional news show. Several months ago, we started getting Netflix. Brilliant! Why? The shows on Netflix are at my beckon fingertips anytime of day or night. It’s like having a 24/7 convenience store of broadcasts in my living room. Documentaries, pod casts (which really rock), movies, tv shows, even YouTube. The best part, the grape slushy of coolness, is the mere fact Netflix has NO commercials. Geniusness at its best.
Commercials not only interrupt they invade. Assaults of the worst kind. Bears with poor bathroom hygene? Fiber infused EVERYTHING? Good grief. Our whole country should never be constipated again. The most annoying ones, however, are local commercials which use someone’s “Betty Boop” non-translatable-voiced kids to help sell cars, mattresses, jewelry, furniture…well, you get the picture. They suck. But, the most cancerous commercials are the ones with “catchy” phrases or, god forbid, jingles. Ughhhh! I know Barry Manilow made a gazillion composing commercial jingles years ago and there are more people following right along behind him decades later. They need to do something less viral. Like being potato chip inspectors. Even personal injury lawyers have turned to sing-songing their phone numbers in their ads. Pa-leeze! The last thing I’m gonna think about when I get made into road ravioli is a singing law firm. I’ll be doing double time with my maker pleading for my life, not an attorney.
The last couple of days around here have been nice, weather wise. I have picked herbs, daffodils, walked around the yard with my dog and sat on my deck off and on. No tv, just the noises of nature, a few passing cars, kids playing and an occasional low flying airplane. I was rolling story and poetry ideas around in my head. Thinking about my next blog. Wondering if I had enough couscous for dinner. Tru was inspecting the mulch by a bush.
Then, I was interrupted. Brain attacked. For no reason, except my noodle went from figuring out how to unwind my dog’s leash from around a shrub which was decorated with a few bees, to that stupid Nasonex freakin’ allergy commercial. I was mentally taken hostage by an animated, French-accented bumble bee! The bees in the shrubbery started it. That malignant cartoon insect buzzed into my brain, turning my thoughts from my ideas and my dog’s predicament to a winged bug squirting my tv with his nose medicine bottle. I let out a huge sigh, untangled Tru and went into the house. The screen door strained out all of my previously wonderful ideas and I sat on the couch, defeated, annoyed and suddenly stuffy-nosed.
I have nothing against people who make or who are in commercials. They have to make a living like everyone else. I just don’t happen to like what they do. And, I know I’m not the only one wishing they were chip pickers. I bet you have a commercial in your mind and may even start to hum a jingle when you least suspect it. Like, now? (grin)
My tv is still off. My dog is napping. I think I have managed to recall some of the ideas I had yesterday, before the bee, so I’m going to make the most of the time I have between now and dinner to write. Turn off your tv and radio. Listen to you. Should some annoying commercial pop into your head,just pray it’s not a lawyer number,annoying insect, some baby-talking kid or a fat bear who has never learned the proper way to wipe his butt. As you turn your brain channels back to you, listen well. Quietly. You may have a great idea or comforting thought. And, as you do, be kind. Or, should I say, Bee kind….
bees pollinate garden flowers uninterrupted
a commercial buzzes into my thoughts