Doug Blough

Fellow TV addicts know as I do, there are some pretty good shows in between great commercials. And now a word from our sponsor …

My favorite is that horror movie, Geico commercial where four teens are fleeing a gruesome murderer. Stopping to stare at the creepy-looking house, one kid says, “Let's hide in the attic;” the girl says, “No, the basement.” The other girl tearfully points to a nearby vehicle and pleads, “Why can't we just get in that running car?” One kid looks at her with pained amazement and gasps, “Are you crazy?! Let's hide behind those chainsaws.”

They all agree and race to hide behind the dozens of hanging chainsaws. The camera pans to the Leatherface guy, peering quizzically towards the chainsaws that seem to be whispering, “I AM being quiet;” “You're breathing on me.” The narrator says, “When you're in a horror movie, you make poor decisions,” and then of course ties it into being smart by buying Geico car insurance. The commercial ends with the teens fleeing the house in full gallop, the girl shrieking, “Head to the cemetery!”

One I can truly identify with is the instructor tutoring a group of people in how NOT to be like their parents, particularly the one where the nerdy 30-somethings are trying to order food in a Mexican restaurant line. It hits home because when nephew Rusty and I were going through the line at the now defunct Anchos several years ago, he found it hilarious when I complained about how many questions they asked as we moved down the gauntlet. “Would you like that with beef, chicken, or pork?” “Soft or hard shell?” Heck, I don't know; don't they have some idea of what works best?

So in the commercial, as the white-haired instructor watches protectively, the first guy is looking at a “Salad spot” chart with his hands on his hips, gasping “Ah, would you look at this? It's like a science project.” The “don't be like your parents” guy explains, “Ordering lunch is easy for you and me, but it can be so difficult for a young homeowner turning into their parents.”

The befuddled black guy asks in apparent amazement, “Are those all different kinds of lettuces?” “Yessir,” comes the answer. Now the bespectacled science project guy has worked his way down the line and is sweetly asked by the young gal, “White rice, brown rice or quinoa?” His head drops almost in defeat as the instructor rushes in to say, “We're gonna need a minute.”

A frumpy female pupil is asked, “Do you have any food allergies” and she squeaks, “Well, my teeth are sensitive to cold.” “Progressive can't protect you from becoming like your parents, but we can offer low-priced home insurance” the narrator says as science fair guy arrives at the register and pulls out a stuffed-to-the-max wallet like the one George Costanza carried on Seinfeld. “That'll be $19.45” says the cashier and four-eyes thinks there's been a mistake. “Oh, I'm just paying for my own salad.” I LOVE these people, but it would've went right over my parents’ heads.

Accuse me of living in the commercials past, but I really miss the Budweiser frogs lolling in the swamp. Remember them dudes? The first croaks from his lily pad, “Bud,' the second comes back with “Wise,” and the third wraps it up with “ER.” And they repeat the conversation ad infinitum. Such short and simple exhortations, yet speaking volumes. And them frogs might have been homely suckers with their big ol' sagging throats, but I guarantee you they sold more Bud Lites than Dylan Mulvaney ever did.

I actually still have the T-shirt with those Budweiser frogs in front of the dinghy bar, just like in the commercial and when the frogs were pressed with a finger, everyone would hear the “Bud,” Wise” and “ER.” Eventually the sounds quit working, and I sure did miss all them college girls at the bars poking my torso.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.