I’m fit, curious, busy and physically active. I still feel pretty young – until I watch advertising. I watch ads through the eyes of a former chief advertising officer of –at that time – the eighth largest user of TV, as one who wrestled with brand managers, agencies, consumer activists and the Feds over public policy issues like advertising to children; nutritional claims; NBBB, NAB and ANA codes and rules of disclosure. These days, my exposure to television ads is mainly through cable news and special events like the Pack’s Back Sunday. Today’s commercials make me feel old, and after the Superbowl, ancient.
My first question is always to whom is an ad directed? In the case of the Superbowl, one would surmise that the only audiences of interest were twenty-something, arrested development males or 35 year-old males with residual frat boys still lurking within. Crudity, babes, beer parties, talking animals, hot violence and crashing cool cars – the only commercial that seemed to catch fire with message rather than with shallow presentation was “Imported From Detroit” by Chrysler. One can only hope their cars will live up to it; better it had come from Ford, who has already restored some belief in American can-do. And if Chrysler/Fiat delivers, so much the better. It’s a hopeful theme. But for the rest … God, I feel old.
On cable news, it’s the pharmas that own the air – a parade of remedies for maladies for nightmares. And the disclosures: side effects may include excema, palpitations, sudden loss of blood pressure and sexual appetite, occasional blindness and warts.... OMG as my grandkids say. I don’t need to think about all that. Yeah, I know, bodies fall apart suddenly and I’m tempting fate to talk this way.
But so long as I stay away from commercial TV, I stay young... at least in my own mind.
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