Cover Your Giblets

Cover Your Giblets

Many parents now days are concerned about the influence our children’s TV programs have on their developing minds. We wonder if a cartoon is violent, or if a girl on a tweeny sit-com is wearing a skirt that is too short, or even if a kid on a show is being smart-mouthed to their parents. These all could be a bad influence on our little ones.
What is passing under our radar is the disturbing trend in the bizarre behavior of many of our advertising icons. Many of them are from our own childhood and for some reason, we have never questioned their strange manners at all; for example the cuddly Pillsbury Dough Boy. Isn’t it a little concerning that he is harking products made from dough, when that’s what he’s made of? Wouldn’t this be considered cannibalism? He also has that creepy laugh whenever someone pokes him, almost like he’s enjoying it too much. I always change the channel when his commercial comes on, because I’m afraid his dough will start rising..
I’m also very worried about all the blatant substance abuse among cereal characters. The Cocoa Puff bird seems a little too high strung. Coo Coo for cocoa puffs or Coo Coo for coca leaves? You be the judge. And the Fruit Loops Toucan is so hopped up on sugar that I think that there is some misuse of dextrose going on there, for sure. Do we really want to give our children this cereal and have them act like crazed tropical birds all day, with their eyeballs spinning around in their heads? And what’s with that Lucky Charms Leprechaun always hoarding his marshmallow bits? I’ll tell you what it sounds like, it sounds like deviant junkie behavior to me. I also wonder why the Tricks cereal rabbit is constantly trying to steal the Tricks from those innocent children. Do we really want our kids to think it’s okay to have weirdoes skulking around ready to leap on them at any moment and grab their breakfast treats?
These characters need an intervention, and they need it fast. I hope there is a wing at the Betty Ford Clinic to care for them.
Another alarming trend is the unhealthy nature of some of these cartoon spokespeople. Cocoa pebbles is pushed by none other than Fred Flintstone. Fred doesn’t look like he has a long history of healthy eating, so why would we take any dietary advice from him? If eating Cocoa Pebbles makes Fred almost burst out of his leopard skin pelt, do we really want Little Johnny following suit? I think not. The same goes for The Pillsbury Dough boy (he’s just bad!), Chef Boyardi, and Orville Redenbacher. Orville’s problem is not obesity. Quite the opposite, actually. I don’t think that his emaciated appearance speaks well for the nutritional value of popcorn. Wait a minute, isn’t he dead? I rest my case.
Of course, some of those characters aren’t too unsavory, like Mr. Clean who is pretty hot with that shiny bald head (obviously buffed with a Mr. Clean product) and tight white T shirt. I would scrub my bathtub everyday if he was standing next to me with those beefy arms folded. I don’t even mind his freaky wooly eyebrows, which I think double as scouring pads. Maybe he’ll bring his pal from the Brawny paper towels ads along and we could have a real good time cleaning. Oh boy, I think I’ve inhaled too many cleaning products.
There are those characters representing a product that are meant to be funny or cute, but who I want to kick in the pants. Bush’s makes great baked beans, and you’ve all seen TV ads with the lovable Jay Bush and his rascally Irish Setter, Duke, right? I love dogs, but Duke is a real jerk. Here’s Jay, being a wonderful owner by feeding him, walking him, giving him a home. He has even turned down offers of selling Duke the Talking Dog to the circus sideshow, and how does Duke repay him? He is constantly trying to sell the family secret recipe. I personally think he is trying to make some cash to support his bad milk bone habit (another candidate for Betty Ford). If my dog were such a creep, he’d be heading to the vet’s for a little snip-snip.
But the most disconcerting product icon of all is The Jolly Green Giant. I have it on good authority that his real name is Bruce and he is the Hulk’s gay cousin. I mean, no heterosexual giant would ever be caught dead in a dress. To be fair, it is a fetching leafy off-the-shoulder number; with matching green slippers he borrowed form Peter Pan. But, my God, it’s so short that you can almost see his giblets.
I tell you who I really feel sorry for, and that’s the villagers who live in the Green Giants town. Image this, if you will. You are villager, let’s call you “Kevin”, and you are out for a stroll, when you see the Green giant.
“Hey Bruce, how’s it going?”
“Good, Kevin”, Bruce bellows, almost causing Kevin’s eardrums to burst. At this point Kevin is right under Bruce, and tilts his head back to look up at him.
“Ahh, Geez Bruce! Didn’t we make it clear at the last town meeting that you can’t go commando any more? Man, no one wants to see your Brussel Sprouts! And another thing, the next time that nature calls, can you go in the woods? You’re killing my rose bushes! Bruce, hey, what are you doing?...no …don’t …ahhhhhhhh!!!!!”
At which point the Green Giant stomps his size 47 green foot down on top of Kevin, making him resemble creamed corn.
The Green Giant clearly has some anger issues, which is not surprising since he is related to the Hulk.
HO HO HO, Green Giant.

copywrite 2010 cwaldman