Category: media

Time, she is a cruel mistress…

Was listening to the radio on the way to work yesterday and the two deejays, one man, one woman, were discussing the work holiday party they had just attended.

The man told the woman how nice she looked. He said it with a bit of surprise. This was chalked up to the fact that since they work the morning show and go to work so early in the morning, she rarely “does it up”, opting for easy and comfortable.

The female deejay, who is teetering on the edge of forty, launched into a hilarious diatribe about everything it takes for a woman to get it together to go out to a nice event.

She said something to all the ladies listening about “remember how back in the day all you needed was a bottle of Love’s Baby Soft and a Bonnie Bell lip smacker to get started on your day. Oh, and maybe some mascara.”

And this, of course, hit a nerve with me.

Hit a nerve hard, actually, as yesterday evening I had a way overdue appointment with my hairdresser to get all the grays covered. And they are many.

I remember when a box of color had never touched this head.

I remember when I never even had to wash my face at the end of the day. Zits? They were not a problem.

How is it that I have more acne in my late thirties than I did in my teens? Does that seem right to you? Don’t answer that.

The lady dj went on to talk about how in order to go out to the party, she had to spackle over all the skin issues, then cover up the cover up cream.

And the hair, oh the hair is a whole other project.

I remember back in the day when I would brush my hair, and it would lay nice. I put no spray, gel, mousse, shaping wax, pomade, or anything else into it.

And I rarely ever wore makeup. I didn’t need it. My dewy fresh skin and peaches and cream cheeks were enough.

When, exactly, did the skin around my eyes get…crepe-ish? This I do not enjoy.

Ah well, I won’t go silently into that good night.

I’ll fight with the help of my color goddess of a hairdresser, a wand of cover up crème, skin renewing lotion and the help of darn good lighting!

I won’t begin to talk about the “foundation” garments I have to sling shot into to be able to put on a nice dress. It isn’t pretty.

That’s another post for another day. Or was another post on another day.

Meanwhile, wishing all out there a Happy Turkey Day! I’m going to attend a pot luck at work, get fattened up like a Butterball, and leave work early.

All in, not a bad day.

It’s not okay.

You know, over the years I’ve heard many a grownup yell and throw things at the television when a commercial came on using a song that meant something to them “back in the day”.

Let’s be clear, advertisers are sluts. They’ll use any jingle, tune or icon imagery if they think it will sell.

Oh, yes, the howls over The Beatles “Revolution” being used to sell Nikes.

The Rolling Stones “Start me up” for Microsoft and “Satisfaction” for Snickers.

Carly Simon’s “Anticipation” used to sell ketchup.

And Bob Seger’s “Like a Rock” used for Chevy Trucks. To name but a few.

Yup.

I always agreed and smiled mirthfully while my older friends lamented the demise of their meaningful music.

Until just a few days ago. Yes, a few days ago, I saw this commercial.

And suddenly I was yelling and throwing things at the television.

They have abducted The Fixx!

“Saved by Zero”, an iconic song (at least to ME), is now used to shill freaking Toyota cars and trucks at “amazing zero percent financing”.

It’s wrong.

I had to cleanse my senses by watching the original, sort of nonsensical video.

(YouTube says this one can’t be embedded, so here’s the link.)

Ok, I get it. I’m in that “key” 35-50 demographic where they *hope* we have jobs, responsibilities, and the wherewithal to finance a new Toyota automobile.

But come ON!

It is, for me, a loooooong leap from my New Wave cool “we’re not going to be like you” days in high school to tooling around town in a sensible Prius.

And. They. Won’t. Stop. Playing. That. Ad.

Especially during post-season baseball.

Ugh!

I have to wonder, in twenty years, which current modern pop songs will be used to shill products?

The one about the stripper? (Ray J’s “Sexy Can I”)?

The one about the stripper (Flo Rida’s “Low”)?

Or the one about the stripper (T-Pain’s “I’m in love with a stripper”)?

Ah well, I can rest easy knowing that in 2028, these young whippersnappers will be hollering and throwing things at the television.

“Hey you kids, get off my lawn!”

Sigh

Another one bites the dust.

After nearly 40 years, Rolling Stone magazine is whittling down its trademark size. It will now look like every other magazine on the stands.

Ugh.

When I was 15, I had a subscription to Rolling Stone (thanks to the kindness of my mom, thanks mom!). I read it cover to cover every month, drinking in the journalism, the hot, hot interviews and the hip quality of it all.

I stopped subscribing when they went from newspaper print style to glossy pages. It wasn’t the paper, it was the quality of the product. Rotten.

So to be fair I haven’t read Rolling Stone in a good long while. But now, this nail in the coffin.

The magazine that was so subversive, so out there, so of-the-now is, at its heart, just another corporate owned mass-produced media product.

*sigh*

We’ve come a long way since RS 1:

Photo source.

A Symphony of Anxiety

Yeah, we all know it’s bad. To punctuate, every day, we get a new photo of an anxious stockbroker.

As though we don’t know it’s *really, really* bad unless we see angst.

Behold, a symphony…

This post best viewed with the sound of “aaaaaaaaaagh” in the background:

These photos come from newspapers and a couple blogs all around the world. I’ve direct linked them so I’d imagine I’ll soon be asked to take them down…but for now, behold……

Let’s see…

Since I dropped out of the world yesterday (see post below), let’s see what’s going on in my little world today so I can get caught up. Yep, let’s go to the news.

Stock are down…blah, blah, blah

Government bail out…blah blah

Obama struggling to maintain lead in key states. Sure, yeah, ok.

Palin ain’t talking to the press. boooring

Tainted milk in China. : brr : scary.

David Blaine hanging upside down for a real long time. Yawn. My feelings on that yo-yo are already documented.

Every state has a personality. Hmm. Mildly interesting.

A crappy rendition of the National Anthem. Nothing new. Ya never know what yer gonna get when you go to the yard.

Meg Ryan talks about her divorce. From, uh, 2000?

Wow, ok, well, in one day, not much changed.

And in that same day…people were rude on the CalTrain. My boss pooped on one of my performance reviews. The shuttle to the train broke down. There was a major accident a block from my house. And I ended the day with a deep headache and a really bad mood…that I brought home to The Good Man…just so he could experience the special joy his wife had to bring to the table.

feh!