And this advertisement and picture on my facebook wall...

...is how fb responds to my declaration that, with the advent of "dress sweatpants" (pictured below), civilization has officially come to an end:

Betabrand

betabrand.com

Nostradamus predicted you'd order this. 

And he was never wrong.

54,899 people like this.

I probably was "Darrin Stephens" in another life...

...because I really like advertising.

Several years ago, I won lunch with the Chancellor and a t-shirt (!) in the Connecticut State University System's motto contest with:

CSU: Developing a State of Minds

 

(Nota bene: Now that CSU has become ConnSCU, heaven knows what we're developing with all those extra initials.)

 

I've also always believed that the Chamber of Commerce of a certain Cape Cod town could make not a little money selling hats, t-shits, and bumper stickers with the slogan:

 

I Gotta Mashpee!

 

And, as we were driving this Thanksgiving, I figured, in all the years since The Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi (or in whatever Star Wars film the character debuted), in a Maryland town along I-95 someone must have already opened a little eatery/sandwich shop named:

 

The Joppa Hut

 

Then again, maybe not.

Given what Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce just did last night...

Joan Harris

...with office manager-turned-partner Joan Harris to land the Jaguar account,

I'm pretty convinced that Darrin Stephens of the Tate Agency

Larry Tate

needed to set aside his qualms about using the magical powers of his wife, Samantha Stephens,

and to turn more to her, shall we say, less ethical cousin, Serena!

Serena

Mythic implications of the new McDonald's Happy Meal promotion...

Am I the only one who has noticed the rather dubious mythological implications of the new McDonald's commercials that have kids looking for Hope in the new Happy Meal boxes?

The last empty box that still contained Hope of which I'm aware was Pandora's -- and that didn't turn out well, as I've understood the tale.

Please note: I'm a big fan of Ronald McDonald Houses, as we needed to avail ourselves of the one in Manhattan many years ago, so I'm all for supporting them.  But let's be careful how we package the idea!

Everything Old is New Again

Good to see that the Bartles and James concept is alive and well at Ocean Spray!

Of Big Boys and Colonels...

In 1985 when I left teaching at The Covington Latin School to pursue my Ph.D. at The Catholic University of America, the big news was that Big Boy restaurants were getting rid of Big Boy as its mascot. I joked in my farewell in the school newspaper that the rumor that I was leaving CLS to replace BB were, despite the resemblance and indeed suitability of my talents to his position, the story was in fact just a rumor. (If BB did get canned in the mid-80s, it’s nevertheless clear now that it wasn’t permanent.)

I recall this piece of ancient history because this past weekend I’ve learned that Kentucky Fried Chicken is looking to replace Colonel Sanders, as it pushes the new Kentucky Grilled Chicken.

First, I just tried the new grilled chicken, and, while it was very good grilled chicken, I don’t see a need to go the KFC (or is it KGC now?) for good grilled chicken. There are, after all, many places – including home – that one can get good grilled chicken. There is however only one place to get “finger-lickin’-good” fried chicken made with all those “secret herbs and spices”: KFC!

Second, they can’t get rid of the Colonel. A smart company doesn’t forsake Betty Crocker or the Maytag Repairman or even Aunt Jemima or the Marlboro Man. You might update them a bit (or they might die of lung disease), but you don’t get rid of them intentionally.

And, thank you, but, no, I’m not interested in the KGC opening right now; call me again when this chairman gig winds down...

Fav' new fake product name...

Who wouldn't buy yeast under the brand name "Leaven of the Pharisees"(Mark 8.14-21)?

The dog that's man's REAL best friend

A recent alumna from our department is doing something I truly envy and shows that one truly can do ANYTHING with a degree in English.

(Now that I know somebody who’s done it, I’m gonna see if I can land a stint after my department chairman gig expires in August 2010.)

Imagine getting to sing everyday (and really really loudly too, I bet):

Oh, I'd love to be an Oscar Mayer wiener
That is what I truly long to be-ee-ee
'Cuz if I were an Oscar Mayer wiener
Everyone would be in love with meeeeeeeeeeee!

How great would that be?!

I’d also be willing to pitch Armour Hot Dogs (because I know their jingle, too):

Hot dogs, Armour hot dogs

What kind of kids eat Armour hot dogs?

Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks

tough kids, sissy kids, even kids with chicken pox

love hot dogs

Armour hot dogs

The dogs kids love to biiiiiiiite!

Tattoo You!

I just saw a television commercial for a local tattoo parlor, Ride My Needle, which suggested gift certificates because a tattoo is "the perfect gift for any occasion."

Who knew?

Mother's Day make sense...a nice "MOM" inside a heart on a boy's left bicep would, perhaps, bring a tear to anyone, but:

Birthdays?

Weddings?

Anniversaries?

Graduations?

First Communions?

I'm stocking up now!

(Potential) Fathers and Mothers

A local medical practice specializing in vasectomies (ouch!) has a radio advertisement the tagline of which is "This is not your father's vasectomy."

Now, I'm unsure of whether it's my uneasiness with medical implements around particularly delicate areas of my body (i.e., I'll never wear contacts for the same reason!) or just my Catholicism (or insecurity) showing, but this seems an really unfortunate turn of phrase.

What's the next ad campaign? The Pill -- The Mother of All Birth Control!

Yes, it alludes to the 70s car ad campaign: "This is not your father's Oldsmobile," but, if my father had bothered to have one, I, as child #3, very well might not have been around. Now, statistically speaking, getting a vasectomy is probably far safer than driving an Olds, but at least you can pass on your 1986 Toronado to your teenagers.

(When a colleague of mine had the procedure done, I dedicated Frank Sinatra's and Keely Smith's 1958 duet "How are you fixed for Love?" to him on my radio show. If you're gonna have it done, at least set it to swingin' music.)

Speaking of mothers and fathers, my favorite British title that didn't make it across the pond (like the American release of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone as Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone -- well, THAT clarifies things!) is the original title of an Elvis Costello compilation. In the US it was called Girls Girls Girls (with symbols of the American dollar and British pound interspersed into a misogynistic equation), in the UK, Ten Howsyafathers and 10 Bloody Marys.

American record companies and publishers always get uneasy when religion is even tangentially involved. Hence we get Nick Lowe's Pure Pop for Now People instead of the original, and far better, title, Jesus of Cool.