Know Your Source Material

From my Facebook page:

Dear Acura,

Re: your advertising dept.

I try not to tell people how to do their jobs, mostly for 2 reasons: 1. I don't want the general public telling me how to do my job, and 2. Other people have expertise in areas that I don't. But every time I see your new commercial, I cringe a bit more.

I get it; nostalgia sells, and who doesn't love the Stones? Plus, you were thinking that, "Please me allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste" would appeal to people who have wealth (or want it) and like to think that they have good taste.

But the thing is, Acura, virtually everyone who has heard the song is aware of the rest of the lyrics. Do you REALLY think that a song with the lyrics, "I rode a tank, held a general's rank, when the blitzkrieg raged and the bodies stank" is a great sales tool? Because that's what we hear in our heads when your commercial runs. I mean, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, assuming that you just didn't think about it, or you're thinking that no one knows what "blitzkrieg" means anymore; because, if you actually wanted to pitch to Nazis or sympathizers, that's a horror instead of carelessness.

I'm not one of those crazies who howls, "Rock music is devil worship! Just look at this song's title!" while clutching my scriptures. I love rock music; I've attended rock concerts. Obviously, I'm a Rolling Stones fan. But I also recognize subtlety and irony and other tools utilized by writers and artists. You know - when they write a catchy song with an unsympathetic narrator, calling it, "Sympathy for the Devil." They expect you to "get" it.

Neil Young - he has a notable solo career, and played with a famous, successful band; you might wanna look him up if you don't recognize the name - once gave an interview in which he was asked why he didn't sell the rights to his music to advertisers, when his colleagues and bandmates did. His answer was succinct and fantastic: "When I'm writing lyrics like, 'Four dead in Ohio,' I'm not thinking about laundry detergent."

I'm not saying that you can't choose rock, pop, country, ska or whatever else you want to for your campaigns. I'm saying, be aware when you're doing the equivalent of selling detergent on the backs of the bodies of unarmed college students, shot to death on a college campus.

Sincerely,
American consumers (who recognize that your campaign will NOT be the new Chevy "Like a Rock" ads)

Knee Deep

We were visiting my oldest daughter's house, getting ready for church on a Sunday morning. My youngest walked out of the bedroom in her church outfit, and her older sister made a noise of alarm - "AAHHHH!" She frequently despairs when faced with the fashion choices of her family, but I couldn't see anything wrong with the way her sister looked. I mean, she was dressed for church, not even in her "grubbies."

"What?" I asked.

"Her knees!"

Well, OK, the dress hit above her knees, but she wasn't flashing. Thinking that she was worried that the dress was too short, I said, "She's wearing leggings."

"NO! They bend backwards!" - in a tone of horror.

I sometimes wonder if my family has been paying attention for, well, pretty much their whole lives. Her sister was a teen - had she never looked at her legs before?

"Yeah, they do. She has my knees. Haven't you noticed?"

My daughter and I both have knees that bow backwards - our legs are shaped like parentheses. In order to have them look "straight," we have to bend our knees slightly. My daughter's might look a bit more obvious because her legs dimple over her knees, but the curve is virtually identical. How had my oldest never noticed this? On either of us?

"Can't she do something about that?"

"Well, we could try a complete knee replacement, but I'm not sure that would work. Maybe we'll find out when we're old."

My oldest is a very sweet, well intentioned human being. But when something offends her sense of order, she gets rattled, and how things look is very important to her.

Of course, my youngest and I have a diferent frame of reference. We have to make these knees work. They not only bow backward, but inward - we're "knock kneed."

Yes, our legs look like the letter X from behind, and the letter C from the side.

You know that walk that women do, where they cross one foot in front of the other as they step, and it looks elegant? Yeah; we will never be able to do that.

As a teen, I knew that I had "bad knees," the kind that hurt when a storm was coming, and might seize up or collapse while I was roller skating. Falling on my right knee (off of a horse) when I was 13 didn't help. I sounded (and often felt) middle aged, but what are you gonna do? You have the body you were born with.

I never understood it when people said - and they sometimes did, as my oldest daughter did again, "How can you stand that?" Easy; there's no choice. What sense would it make going through life being disgusted or aghast, by your own body, every single day? That would be far more miserable than my knees made me.

After I had surgery on my feet, I had to learn to walk again, and everything felt wrong. Plus, putting my feet where they were "supposed" to be made my knees literally smack into each other. I watched my daughter walk; her knees glide past each other, always touching but never smacking. I couldn't figure out how to make my feet and knees and everything else work properly. ("These Feet Were Made For Walking")

I pretty well have it figured out now, I think. I suspect that I've taken on a "cowboy who's been too long in the saddle" wide legged walk, but that doesn't bother me.

Howdy, Partner.

I'm walkin' here!