I don't do year-end wrap ups or political screeds, but I am nevertheless an observer of what life in our country is like. And television delivers more basis for commentary than a Capitol full of invaders who didn't pay to get in.
You can tell what were the best commercials of the year when you see them again at the holiday gift giving season. I love the one where the very attractive couple are in the snow and he tells her he's got something for her. He whistles and a puppy comes bounding out of the fresh powder and leaps into her arms. And she's as cute as that puppy, right guys?
Then she tells him she's got something for him. She puts two fingers in her mouth and emits what I'm sure is a dubbed whistle and suddenly an urban assault vehicle comes crashing out of the snow, spreading powder everywhere. I don't know who's driving the monster, but it's headed their way.
Then there's the one where the cute Millennial couple plop key fobs down on their marble kitchen counter and tell each other they got something for the other for Christmas. (No, it's not an O Henry story.) And wouldn't you know it, outside their front door are two Sherman tank armored personnel vehicles parked by the front door. Each is a different color, and she claims the one he really got for himself. She hugs the hood, looking truly Lilliputian in front of all that horsepower. He settles for the other one as if he really did want the other color.
How these two went to bed the night before and didn't see these mammoth vehicles parked in front is beyond me. They must have been coming in using only the back door.
If you don't think you'll be driving an electric vehicle in 10 years you haven't been watching TV or reading the newspaper. I don't know if it's a hybrid or a pure electric truck that shows off its ability to act as a generator for your house suffering a through a blackout or whatever, but there it is. Plugging your dark house into your truck using what looks like an extension card to get the Christmas lights going. Ha-ha neighbors, I'm watching football, what have you got on?
Then there's the neighborhood show-off who's demonstrating the adjustable tailgate on some truck he likely really doesn't need. See, you can use it as a step up bumper, drop it all the way down for a long load (that he's probably never going to bring home) and best of all, adjust to a keyboard height so he can set his laptop on it and type out emails. It's obviously very versatile.
The next biggest category of goods being offered are of course cell phones, those hand-held devices that are now as big as a 1950s color TV that are not just your answering service and a telephone, but are the repository for your complete identity.
The "apps" you place on this device will open your car's trunk, open your front door, peer into your refrigerator so you can see what you might need at the store. The apps alas cannot identify the food that's wrapped in aluminum foil and how old it might be. That's just the few apps I remember without setting out to compile a list.
There are all kinds of deals, contracts, no contracts, and of course the now much needed camera lenses so that you can capture all the dance moves that break out on the subway, because face it, everyone who has a cell phone is either themselves dancing, or watching someone dance. Recording disturbances are of course now easier in case the police ask if there were any witnesses.
Food is another heavily advertised category, but usually the kind of food that can be delivered to your door, or consumed in the happy atmosphere of eating out. Beer comes in here as well.
It's already been noted that Big Pharma is hard at work hawking drugs they feel you should ask your doctor about for the symptoms you probably don't have. Sure, some people do have Type-2 diabetes, or COPD, but the other ailments are a lot more obscure. See your doctor. Please.
As the day wears on, unless you're watching the evening news, the pharma ads diminish, probably on the premise that if you've made this far into the day you already took your medications.
A few Sundays ago there was only one football game being broadcast in the New York market—a Jets game. The Jets were playing someone, or at least were on the same field with another team, when I tried the other channels. All in vain. The Jets were the only game on at the time.
The JETS have been woeful for so long that I find it hard to believe that Bobby G., one of the racetrack Assembled members, admits to being a JETS fan. This stems from his once having been a season ticket holder, but bowing out when the need to buy a "seat license" was required in order to secure season seats. It was like asking you to buy a taxi medallion because you needed a ride to the airport. Bobby G. declined.
I expressed sympathy when he told me he was a JETS fan. I said, "Bob, one Super Bowl that was more than 50 years ago (1969) that the average person could identify the Roman numerals that Pete Rozelle introduced to make the game seem epic...they should be made to drop out of the league like a bad performing soccer club and only be allowed back in when they are competitive. They're still in the AFL." He sighed and agreed.
But then I thought of myself who would tell you "I'm a RANGERS fan," perhaps more of a lapsed RANGERS fan, who did once have season seats for about 10 years, who has only seen them win the Stanley Cup (on TV) once, in 1994. Prior to that it was 1940, 1933 and 1928. There were at least a few trips to the big dance, unlike the JETS who never get there, but you can hardly call the RANGERS perennial Cup contenders.
On the Sunday when it was only the JETS on I stared at another channel that was featuring Emeril hawk an air fryer for $69.99 for four months. I have no idea if that's a good price, but I doubt it. My wife has an air fryer and brings it out now and then to make French fries, which it does a pretty good job of.
My daughter Susan is getting a new stove that also doubles as an air fryer. Sorry Emeril. I'd rather watch the JETS and commercials for trucks and cell phones. The woman who gets the puppy bounding through the snow is a lot cuter.
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