Oh Shut Up Already

There is no amount of money that would entice me to appear in a TV commercial, and certainly not one for toilet paper. Yet, in an ad for one particular brand I will not name because I refuse to give it even more recognition, there are these perfectly normal-looking women who discuss it openly, as if we need their input on what to look for in such a product. One of them stares into the camera and coos, "I want to feel clean and pampered!" You could offer me a million dollars and I would not say that on national TV, or even all alone in my living room looking into a mirror.

Putting it plainly, I hate advertising. I want it to suffer a debilitating and painful disease and then die. It's everywhere, slowly but surely taking over the world. Pretty soon people will have ads tattooed on their bodies as a way to make money. Because I have such a strong dislike for it, I never buy anything I see advertised; naturally, the list of things I won't use is considerable. The only exception to this rule is our GEICO car insurance, but I purchased that about 40 years ago, long before that stupid talking gecko with the Australian accent showed up. (I compensate for this lapse by driving a Saab and filling it with Irving gasoline, neither of which you ever see mentioned anywhere, not even in the Consumer Reports automobile issue.)

Perhaps my favorite product is Comet. It really works! It really does clean and deodorize, just like it says on the can, or jar or whatever that cardboard thing it comes in is called. Yet you never see an ad for Comet. There is no Comet Lady popping out of your sink or tub drain. There is no funny cartoon character. You never hear a word about it, yet there it remains, still for sale and thus still profitable for its shareholders. If only every other product followed Comet's example, the world would be a better place. And shinier too.