Episode 63: Brush Like a Superhero

In an ad on the back of a sports magazine for kids, some toothpaste company had Spiderman slinging his webs under the caption, "Brush like a superhero." I guess that means all superheroes are good at brushing their teeth. On the other hand, it could also mean all superheroes use that particular brand of toothpaste. I suppose it could also mean any number of other things related to super-heroism and dental care.

It got me thinking about superheroes and their teeth. Spiderman, for instance, has a mask that covers his mouth, so I am not at all sure he is even able to brush his teeth (bla, bla, bla, Peter Parker, bla, bla bla.). Of all the superheroes available, why choose him for a toothpaste ad? It would seem the ad was actually advocating not brushing teeth, assuming we are supposed to brush our teeth the way we would if we were superheroes who could not get at our teeth to brush them.

Perhaps the ad was actually put out by some other toothpaste company trying to discredit the one supposedly putting out the ad. I mean, who would trust a toothpaste company that apparently advocated not brushing your teeth? Clearly this was sabotage. There is no way those highly astute mushy-brained kooks would have missed such an obvious detail, right? I mean, that would be like putting Lex Luther on an ad for hair dryers. "Blow dry your hair like bald evil villains."

On the other hand, maybe this just reveals the amount of contempt those mushy-brained kooks have for their audiences. Or, perhaps this is a test to see whether we pay attention to their work. Maybe they feel overlooked, forgotten, lonely, misunderstood, and under-appreciated, and this is their way of crying out for attention. I hear you, mushy-brained kooks, and I share the pain you feel from your windowless basement offices. We do notice your work and we want to respond to it in the way you intended when you poured out all your sweat and tears to create it, we just don't understand what you are trying to say.

Maybe abstract art and advertising don't mix very well. I'd love to brush like a superhero, if that was a good thing, and the model superhero was actually capable of brushing his teeth, and I knew what exactly about his method of tooth brushing I should emulate.

To prove my commitment to affirming mushy-brained kooks everywhere, I have stopped brushing my teeth and started wearing a spiderman hood every day. Well, actually, it is more like a red hoody sweatshirt I accidentally put on backwards with the hood up this morning. It's my way of raising awareness for your plight, mushy-brained kooks. People don't seem to get it yet, and I cannot really talk with the hood blocking my mouth, but I will not stop until people do get it, somehow, because it's what you do every day for us.

You are not alone, mushy-brained kooks (at least metaphorically or metaphysically anyway). Let's all join together to support advertisers by posting random, unrelated, irrelevant phrases and images wherever we can until our message cannot be ignored. No one will understand it, but everyone will notice it, and isn't that what it is all about?

Episode 63: Sunburns and Cultural Confusion

So, on a beautiful September day in the great state of Indiana I was minding my own business watching what was supposed to be soccer (as it turns out, 7-year-olds aren't very good at making it look much like soccer, despite the jerseys, cleats, shin guards, goals, and soccer balls) when I was brutally attacked by the sun.  

I made it through two years of pool days, beach days, and other-activities-in-the-sun days in the hottest days of summer only to be sucker punched on one side of my face by the almost-fall September sun in the middle of the midwest.  While I have no statistics to back me up (something that has never stopped me before) I am quite certain no one else at those soccer fields got sunburned that day.  I take it as a vicious attack on my culture by a remorseless celestial bully.  

That's right only someone whose blood is entirely Nordic could have felt the effects so severely, at least I think Nordic means Norwegian, or at least something geographically close to Norwegian anyway.  I'm not actually sure about that that because really the only thing Norwegian about me is my blood and genes and all that.  I have never even been to Norway.  Once, when I was motivated to learn more about my cultural heritage I tried to learn some Norwegian.  It didn't go very well on account of the fact that there are no vowels and every word looks like a random collection of letters designed purposefully to be impossible to pronounce.  In point of fact, I am probably more Mexican when it comes to actual demonstrations of culture.  I speak Spanish, have been to Mexico, and love the food.  I don't speak any Norwegian, have never been there, and dislike the only foods I have encountered from Norway.  This is very confusing for me.  

My blond hair, blue eyes, and basement-dwelling skin tone don't fit very well with Mexican culture, but I don't know anything about the culture of my blood.  I guess this is what it means to live in a melting pot.  At least I can always claim my American culture, whatever that means...unless I am in South America. Even American culture is confusing.  Well, for easier discussions about my culture I am going to call myself Normeximerican from here on out.  We are a small, misunderstood culture, but we will never lose our roots...at least not after we find them anyway, provided they are not hanging out anywhere near that back-stabbing, two-bit, sucker-punching sun.

Episode 4: Super Windy Turbo Jet Turbine Hand Dryers

Who knew it was so difficult to build a functional paper towel dispenser for restrooms? I use two hands and pull, just like the very helpful instructions indicate, but I know who writes those sorts of things, so it is not a big surprise when it doesn't work.

Instead, I end up with a wet, thumb-sized scrap of paper towel clutched tightly between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, and an otherwise undisturbed paper towel mocking me from the dispenser as I shake my hands violently to dry them enough to grip the remaining towel well enough to dislodge it. By the time I get my hands as dry as possible using towels with the absorptive qualities of the thirty-year-old shingles on my roof, my food has gotten cold, so my wife has boxed it up, paid the waiter, loaded the babies into the car, pulled up to the door, washed her hair, walked the dog (presumably someone else's since we do not actually have one), read an epic novel, and fallen asleep.

That is why I heartily endorse the super windy turbo jet turbine hand dryers. Not only do they provide loads of amusement for kids waiting for their parents, but they also keep restrooms free of paper towel trash. I am trying to convince my wife to get one for the house.

Episode 55: Good Sportsmanship

We have been working on good sportsmanship with our 5-year-old son these days. He is very competitive and very good at finding ways to win whatever activity in which he chooses to engage (going down the stairs, getting in the car, getting out of the car, getting into the house, getting out of the house, eating, getting dressed, etc.). In the sphere of 5-year-old sporting activities he mostly likes to write his own rules to ensure he wins. If we play catch, he gets points for catching the ball and I lose points when he drops the ball because that means I made a bad throw. I haven't figured out yet how I actually get points. All I know is the score shifts drastically from throw to throw.

"Daddy, you have 15 and I have 1000."

"Okay daddy, now you have 200 because you did pretty good, but I have 10 thousand hundred, so I am still winning."

I have a checkers game on my iPod and he likes to play against himself instead of against the computer, or anyone else who might win. When I tried to explain to him that he should play against someone so he can get better at it he responded mostly by crying and punching himself in the leg emphatically. Later that day, however, he informed me that when he gets to Heaven one thing he wants to do is play checkers with God. He also informed me that he would not be upset if God won.

Well, I guess that is progress of a sort. At least he now concedes there may be someone out there who could best him at something, and he can be gracious when his opponent is omnipotent. Now if I can just convince him to play fairly with mortals we will be all set to tackle the next growth hurdle

Brian