It's just plain mean on an 11 p.m. TV commercial when someone waves a cookie sheet in the air saying they'd just been inspired to bake cookies.
The chocolate chip cookies look great, but they're likely glued to the pan since they don't move an inch while the cookie sheet darts around.
Still, when my growling stomach begs for something like a warm and gooey chocolate chip cookie and I see them on the TV screen, it's hard to put them out of my mind and drink a glass of grapefruit juice. I like grapefruit juice well enough, but not nearly as much as warm, gooey cookies.
Ever notice how the number of get-skinny ads collect around dinner time or on late-night shows and the snack-attack hits. And how often breakfast cereal ads show up on Saturday mornings with the cartoons.
Shouldn't say anything bad about cereals, though, since I keep a box of chocolate Chex on the table next to my recliner in case I'm too lazy to get up and go to the kitchen if I'm craving a snack. Just pop the box open and chow down. I know enough is enough when my fingers collect so much chocolate dust that licking them is as much fun as eating the chocolate Chex in the first place.
TV commercials these days are either wildly clever or needing great help, if you ask me. My sister picked up right away several years back on the herbicide ad - or whatever it is they put on a field -for clean beans and as you listen to some disembodied voice tell you how good it is, the camera pans on a clean bean field with a mass of button weeds on the edge.
I've picked button weeds out of fields and I know a mass of them at the edge of any field just can't be good. She also contacted the people who had the cute little ladies quilting Northern toilet tissue with knitting needles.
I'm particularly annoyed by the commercial for a car where they open a big silver box and some TV announcer says this car was named something or other by the J.D. Powers people, then some supposedly astonished sweetie in a white sweater tells another girl she didn't really know what just happened, but they told her this car was the No. 1 sedan. Nobody ever mentioned the word sedan - they called it a car.
But more than anything, anything in the whole television kingdom, I detest the Outback commercials where this man who is supposed to be Australian blows through about 27 seconds of a 30-second commercial in a sloppy, fake accent, then falls back into regular American voice for the last four syllables, give or take.
I hate that commercial so much, I mute the television, then shut my eyes until it's over. On the nights I'm particularly tired, I have been known to fall asleep during that time. I can't tell you the number of shows I've watched for 50 minutes, trying to figure out the murderer or at least how it will end, then mute that stupid commercial, shut my eyes and fall sound asleep.
It's late at night. When I shut my eyes late at night, I'm supposed to fall asleep. That's a sad fact.
Sadder, however, is going to bed without warm and gooey chocolate chip cookies.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.