And Now A Word From Our Sponsor

Commercials kill me. That's why I stopped watching them months ago. But unfortunately I have a steel trap memory.

Consider Cialis, for example. I never saw ads for erectile dysfunction when I was growing up, although I suspect it's been a problem for as long as there have been penises (which would exclude the 1950s). But if you have to advertise this particular malady, I don't think the brains behind the Cialis campaign have the right idea. You see a man and a woman holding hands or looking lovingly into each other's eyes while a doctorly voice warns us of all the reasons you shouldn't take Cialis. We're led to believe that the man in the commercial doesn't suffer from those side effects and has already taken a dose. So where do he and his beloved end up at the end? In bed? On the kitchen floor? No -- in bathwater. In two separate tubs. Outdoors, for goodness sake. I mean, come on, at the very least share a tub if this is foreplay. (I'll bet he'd be sharing a tub if he were walking hand in hand with one of the models from those Carl's Jr. ads.)

Then there's Jake from State Farm, or, rather, the guy on the phone with Jake from State Farm. Just why is he calling Jake in the middle of the night? Must be an insurance emergency, right? Then why doesn't his wife know? Can't it wait until regular business hours? And what is she doing up at that hour? She evidently already suspected him of talking to another woman. Could there in fact be another woman? Could it be he was talking to Jake about his wife's life insurance policy? Is she about to be bumped off? Will Jake squeal when the cops come down on him? Already I can see Oliver Platt as Jake and Vince Vaughan as the husband. I wonder who'll direct.

Of course, there is such a thing as a clever and successful TV ad. When I talk to people about commercials (which isn't often), Geico is the clear favorite. The company has come far in its evolution from cavemen to geckos, and now it's moved on to parodies, two of which are among my all-time favorite anything:

The first one features the cowboy who rides far off into the sunset because "I'm a loner, and a loner's gotta be alone." The Geico logo appears onscreen just in time for him to hit one of the letters and fall off his horse. Bravo!

My top favorite is the takeoff on horror movies, with four demographically correct millennials running in terror from something in the night. They come upon an old house and can't decide whether to hide in the attic or the basement. One of them cries, "Why can't we just get in the running car?" while pointing to, sure enough, a sporty red convertible idling behind them. "Are you crazy?" the guy beside her says. "Let's hide behind those chainsaws!" So they run behind a row of chainsaws hanging over the doorway of a shed while a creepy guy behind them lifts the mask he's wearing and shakes his head in bland disbelief. In the final shot, we see our four heroes running out from the shed with one of the guys yelling, "Head for the cemetery!" I really haven't laughed that loud over a commercial in years and years. Not even during the Super Bowl.

Being a guy, I tend to notice women in commercials more than I do men. The customer service character Lily of AT&T -- she of the bright smile and simple blue blouse -- is infinitely more appealing than Miss September chowing down on a Mile High bacon cheeseburger. At least it's clear what Lily is selling. Also, Southwest Airlines had a spot last year called "Dance Party" that featured a very energetic young woman dancing up a storm in three separate settings. What was notable was that she seemed to be having a genuinely good time. She made me want to run out and buy something so I could feel that way, too. The only thing wrong with that campaign (and Southwest has a sequel now called "Wedding Party") is that the dancer and the setting don't have an awful lot to do with airplanes. I don't come away thinking, "Book me on the next flight."

The character Flo, who's appeared in more than 100 Progressive Insurance commercials, isn't particularly funny or alluring (and let's face it -- Madison Avenue is all about alluring), so I don't know why that campaign has been so successful. But nothing else matters if Flo is selling lots of insurance, and for some reason more and more people are buying insurance from Flo.

We've covered the good and the bad. Now it's time to confront the ugly.

I don't care how cute the cartoon baby bear is -- he's got scraps of toilet paper stuck to his butt, and we know Charmin Ultra isn't for cartoon baby bears. I'd very much enjoy never seeing that one again.

A few years ago, Orkin, the pest control experts, came up with the idea of having a cockroach crawl diagonally across the TV screen in the middle of an otherwise ordinary commercial. The idea was that I'd think there really was a cockroach in my living room. I didn't go, "Wow, thanks, Orkin! I guess I'll use your product now in case a real cockroach crawls diagonally across my TV screen." No, I was thinking, "Boy, that was close. Another two inches and my shoe might have gone right through the set."

Then there are the Gross-out Twins. Instead of thinking, "I'll buy that product," I'm thinking, "I hope I can make it to the bathroom before I start blowing chunks." The twins are, of course, Mr. Mucus from the Mucinex commercial and Digger, the talking toenail fungus from Lamisil. Who thinks this stuff up? These are the anti-Cialis ads, guaranteed to ruin any mood (and without those pesky side effects).

I'd planned to move on to some of the more egregious TV infomercials, but that last paragraph just ruined my mood. Just as well, huh?