Post 7: “We will send you regular pupdates”

July 31, 2016

Adverts. This post was brought to you by an advert for a charity set up to support dogs in some way that i haven't paid attention to. I love dogs. But I never ever want to receive regular “pupdates”.

 

Now some of you, my performer friends, make a good living from playing “ordinary dad” or “girl with broken down car”, and I'm genuinely happy for you that your rent is paid. But with very few exceptions, I can't stand adverts. I can't bear the way that they interrupt whatever I'm watching so that they can try and pique my interest in something I neither want nor need.

 

In our household we do our best to record everything we might want to watch so that we can fast forward through the adverts. If you have control of the remote and don't act fast enough, there's a strong possibility that you will not only be screamed at but may also have cushions and the TV pages thrown at your head. The most common wail is “They're trying to sell me stuff, fast forward!”

One night I was up very late working, and to my horror found myself sucked into what can only described as the black hole of advertising - the infomercial. In a daze, I discovered that I had spent 20 minutes watching American people discuss a brand of stone cookware. That's 20 minutes of my life that I can never ever get back.

 

In grim fascination I listened to a whole host of people enthusiastically extolling the virtues of what had to be extremely heavy pots and pans. It seemed to be like a religious experience for them. I shook myself out of this commercial coma and immediately put on an episode of the Walking Dead. At least, I think I did. It was hard to tell the difference.

 

There has only ever been a single occasion when I have knowingly bought an item having seen it on an advert, and in this case I'm sure you'll agree that it was worth breaching my commercial boundaries. Yes, I went on Ebay and bought a Karma Chameleon phone as seen on the old BT advert (example below).

 

Despite the fact that it had clearly NOT come from a non-smoking environment as stated on the post I absolutely adored it and regularly refused to answer the phone until the end of the song. Sorry if you were one of the people trying to get hold of us in 2008.

Eventually my family convinced me to give it up before emphysema kicked in, and my dream phone and I reluctantly parted company. Sometimes, when the phone rings, I can still hear the sound of a bug playing an accordion.

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