It’s Christmas. I know; duh. By truth, I don’t mean that precious moment when Linus stands in the spotlight and talks about St. Luke’s angel heralding the coming of the Christ child.
I’m talking about three months of making my Little Elf watch DVDs, hulu, or ENCORE-family because I just can’t stand another 30-second NickJr spew of plastic vomit that is generally pink and really loud. Otherwise known as a commercial.
Wasn’t the FCC going to make a law, like, eight years ago that required broadcasters to lower the volume of commercials from, say, 747ish to reasonable?
Unlike his mother—who watches almost nothing not recorded on the DVR, specifically so I can skip over commercials—Little Elf loves regular television and since September, the commercials have gotten longer and louder.
What they don’t say is “Hey, for just $29 you can have a toy that only has one function! There are eight in the set so you need them all! Go get your mommy’s credit card!”
Comedian Ron White came up with the best truthful ad so far; “Diamonds: That’ll shut her up.”
So I got to thinking, as I usually do, about all the experiences in my little life during this season of mirth and debt that would be less annoying if we could all just call a spade a spade.
For instance, I love how housing developers name new neighborhoods something fancy, usually after whatever animals died or migrated when they cleared the land of all things green, like Foxchase Glen, or Wild Heron Estates. My neighborhood might as well be called Barely Afforded It Run, or At Least I’m Not Renting Hollow.
How about Welcome to Thanksgiving: A Time to Practice Smiling and Drinking before Christmas.
Christmas Tipping: Give money to everyone who ever did anything for you unless you want to find your trash cans in the gutter and your haircut makes you look like a Who.
Kids: They bring joy to your life. Which is good, because you’re not really going to have that much fun any more.
Netflix: Because HBO is making you wait 18 months for Game of Thrones.
I used to love how many things were called The Cadillac of [insert name]. Until I bought a Cadillac. I love my car but now The Cadillac of [whatever] substantially means “Enjoy the luxury because when it breaks you’re going to have to sell a kidney to fix it.”
Olive Garden: Because we know lately that blood has just been coursing through your veins freely.
Fall Finale: We’re taking six weeks off filming your TV shows so you have nothing to watch on your one day vacation. Haha
New Year’s Eve: 2016 Years of helping you get over the Christmas letdown with one more day off.
Pictionary: Because you suck at Trivial Pursuit.
Laser Christmas Lights: Because you don’t want to be the neighborhood Grinch but you really only want to use one plug.
Bonus: and you like to blind pilots.
January: Welcome to the cold wintry bucket of suck, with only one day off, when you realize it’s six months to summer.
Christmas Letters: We’re not going to read it. Just put a link to your Facebook page and we’ll catch up on our own.
Walmart: Did you really expect the place wouldn’t be crowded? Stop acting like you’re so put out to have to wait in a long line.
Alas, don’t get me wrong; I do love Christmas and I can’t wait for the big day. Especially since I have 50 hours saved on the DVR and the fall finale dearth won’t hurt as much.