From those days, I remember my Dad's dislike of Broadway Joe Namath. Dad found him too flashy, too egotistical, too much of a pretty-boy to throw his allegiance behind. Namath's appearance in pantyhose in a high-profile commercial didn't help either.
That genetic disposition aside, I've now got one more reason to grind my teeth over Joe Namath: His nonstop television commercials for a Medical Supplement Plan.
Like most Americans, I'm home now ... lot. Unlike most Americans, I've been home longer than the pandemic called, having been tossed from my full-time job back in November. That's six months, folks, of job hunting, which fills much of my time, but certainly not all of it.
And I'm not exactly proud to admit this, but I will: Much of my downtime between searches on LinkedIn and Indeed has been taken watching television. Where Namath's mug extols the virtues of "prescription drug coverage and even rides to and from doctor's appointments" in a seemingly endless loop.
I can say, however, that he's not the worst offender. Liberty Mutual -- whose ads I've liked in the past (including the one with the clueless beefcake actor who can't get his lines right) -- has one that's a parody of cop-chase-scenes in countless movies and TV shows. But for some reason that I don't quite get, the officer giving chase has as a partner an emu (!). This commercial starts with a police siren, for which the producers opted for the cheesiest sound effect in history. It sounds like an 8-year-old blowing a birthday-party horn-favor until his cheeks turn purple.
Perhaps my over-exposure to these ads results from the shows I'm watching. I've been enjoying reruns of such 1970s staples as What's My Line? and The Waltons.
The former is the 1970s edition, where host John Charles Daley was replaced by Larry Blyden and black-and-white shooting was replaced by color. However, there's something appealing to me about a game show where intelligent conversation and probing questioning takes place in a quiet, suit-ad-tie setting (if you can forgive Soupy Sales' occasional mugging). No screaming audience members; no blazing lights; no set-pieces that mimic theme-park rides; no six-figure payouts.
The latter (The Waltons) just makes me feel good. It's a worthy reminder that bad times end, that people persevere and that there's a lot to be said for faith and family.
They're both almost worth putting up with Joe Namath.
One thing in all of the above is clear. I need to get back to work. Not just intellectually but financially, socially and psychologically.
Hopefully soon!
