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Is it just me?

I was watching TV last night and I usually mute the ads but I decided to watch them this time. Anyone who knows me knows I can't stand advertising. I get my hackles up over manipulation of any kind and I am pleased to report that Madison Avenue is still not as clever as I. Keep trying, ladies and gentlemen, maybe one day an ad will persuade me to spend money. Maybe not.

I have to ask, am I the only one who notices how cheesy restaurant commercials are? Why is the food always wet? Why is it always flying through the air? Seriously. If I walk into the kitchen at Chilis or Wendy's, will I see food prep people tossing wet, sliced red onions back and forth? Will I see wet, chopped tomatoes flying across the counter? It's kind of scary. And the people eating at said restaurant are so ridiculously happy, like they've been waiting all their lives for this very moment. Wow. Is it supposed to make me, a clearly unhappy person since I'm sitting at home while other people live it up at the 99, want to go out to eat? What it really does is creep me out. I don't want to go to a restaurant where airborne lettuce may hit my head and fellow diners are having orgasms over the Endless Pasta special.

Runners up for most cheesy ads would be tooth whitener and Botox. I've never seen scarier smiles. As if anyone walks into a room grinning ear to ear with every tooth exposed at a party (tooth whitener). And who the hell jumps up and down while tossing their heads back, laughing riotously at the thought of Botox? Please, we all know Botox freezes your face no matter how animated the model's smile is.

I found myself wondering also if there's a law that prevents minorities from looking stupid in commercials. Family #1 (white) is upset because their incompetent mother/wife didn't use the good baggies and now their chicken is all freezer-burned. Family #2 (Asian/black/Hispanic/Eskimo) is ecstatic and going to eat well tonight, because their savvy mother/wife went with the good baggies, and Family #2's chicken breasts are vacuum sealed and airtight. Or blonde WASP-y woman walks all the way to the end of the driveway only to have her trash bag burst all over her feet - and AT THAT EXACT MOMENT, as if she were waiting for blondie to take the trash out so she can rub it in - an Hispanic woman trots out her bag which plops neatly into the can. I am ashamed to be a white girl, I will try to improve myself by buying the right bags.

I love the Law Offices of Joe Bornstein ads. I am always tempted to call the 1-800 number and when they ask me how they can help me, I'll say "I don't know, you tell me. Robert Vaughn just told me to call RIGHT NOW."

Honestly cute is the Aquaboggan water park ad with the three big kids in goggles & trunks sitting in a baby pool, waving. "Wave pool." Get it?

Posted by Bullyland at 01:02 PM | Comments (7)

Racial Tensions in the Mid East

Of course, I'm not talking about the Mid East that's usually in the news. I'm talking about the Mid-East coast, most specifically, eastern Virginia. My sister has lived near the Virginia coast for over a decade and has made it her permanent home. She has two daughters and a wonderful fiancee who also has grown children. They are loving life, and it shows. We had a blast in Virginia, relaxing by the pool, at the beach, visiting and catching up with each other. My son re-bonded quickly with his cousins and all the kids enjoyed themselves to the fullest.

So what's this I mean when I say racial tension? Well, living in Maine doesn't exactly expose one to a cultural rainbow. The schools go heavy on Martin Luther King, Jr in January, and segue easily into Black History Month during February. My eight year old can tell you all about MLKJ and name at least 10 African American heroes of the past, not to mention a play-by-play recall of the history of slavery in the United States. He is virtually saturated in diversity training at school. Problem is, he doesn't really get to practice it. He has one biracial child in his class; a lovely boy whom my son has gone to school with since Kindergarten.

It seems unfortunate that he isn't as immersed in diversity as I was growing up as a military brat, but when I take a closer look at things, I can't help but wonder if he's actually fortunate to be avoiding stereotypes and racial tension. He doesn't have a clue that some white people still hate black people and vice versa. I hope when he's grown up and ready to do some traveling himself, he'll take his untainted, "everybody really is equal" attitude with him and spread it around.

I noticed as we traveled down through Massachusetts, Maryland, Delaware, NJ, et al that the diversity at the rest stops was steadily growing. My son asked me at a restaurant "Mommy, how come there are so many brown skinned people here?" I explained to him that for whatever reason there just aren't that many other colors in Maine, but he should expect a lot more different people as he travels the country. He was happy with that. He was fascinated by all the colors, languages and accents that we encountered as we traveled southward. He was particularly taken with a young Mexican boy about his age who had a brindle colored Chihuahua on a string. As the child's father and brother spoke to one another in Spanish, the boy's lilting accent accentuated his speech as he told my son, "We call him Tiger because he has stripes like the tiger." My son could identify with this child completely. Skin color, accents, and parents who speak another language were not a factor for my son when sharing his love for tiny dogs with this other boy. It was heart lifting.

Anyway, once we settled in Virginia, I couldn't help but notice that things weren't all melting-pot brotherly love. My sister and her family are in the minority in most parts of her town. I could sense the tension in casual comments made by white people I encountered.

At the beach, I noticed a family had left behind empty bottles, wrappers and cigarette butts in the sand. There were five trash cans within tossing distance of this mess! I made a comment about how disgusting that was and heard, "They don't care about making a filthy mess for others to clean."

"They," was I supposed to surmise, were black people? But what about the family to our left? They were black people. I observed the mother chasing a stray Kleenex for about five yards and they were meticulous about cleaning their mess.

As I got into an elevator at the hotel, a black man entered with me. He was wearing tourist casual - nice jeans, a polo shirt and some loafers. He was about my age. At the next floor, a middle aged white woman boarded the lift and glanced toward the black man but not at his face. "To the lobby please?" she said to him. I had to stop my mouth from falling open. I could not believe this woman assumed that this black man on the elevator was actually working the elevator. To this guy's credit, he did not even blink. He simply grinned and pushed "L" for her. When she exited the lift she tossed a meek "Thank you" over her shoulder at him. The guy must have an unbelievable tolerance level.

It has been a long time since I lived anywhere but New Hampshire or Maine and I forget what it's like to be immersed in cultural diversity. I forget what it's like to be directly exposed to black American culture - i.e., rap music, bling, ebonics, etc - all of which were present in crowds of teenagers in Virginia. I don't know any black people in Virginia and didn't hang out much and so I didn't get a fair and balanced view of racial tensions.

Having only spent a week there I am not exactly reeling with culture shock but I am a bit disoriented by it. I don't really remember a lot of racial tension when I was growing up in the racially integrated Air Force, other than the usual cliques which were more defined by musical tastes and class than by race.

Aside from the bubble of weirdness that was the realization that racial tensions do in fact still exist in this country, I had a spectacular time in Virginia. I got quite attached to the hotel pool, which turned out to be an oasis in the heat wave where children get along famously, get lots of exercise and get tired out enough to fall asleep without a hassle. I got to know my sister and my nieces again and finally meet her fiancee, who is definitely a keeper. My sister in her new relationship is more like the old girl I grew up with - silly, happy, funny, and loveable. My nieces are such personalities, with the oldest grabbing my heart because she is so much like I was at that age, and the youngest overflowing with comedic possibility. Virginia was beautiful, the skies were fantastic, the countryside ravishing and the prices low. But, I love New England and could never move. I wish so much they lived closer to me in New England. I wonder how they'd handle the culture shock!

Posted by Bullyland at 10:37 AM | Comments (11)