Commercial Break!

No, not about my books or other writing (disappointed?). I’m talking real commercials here, like from television, radio, billboards and social media. Believe it or not I have favorites – and I’ll bet you do, too. Let’s do television.

So – The first commercial I can remember is from . . . augh . . .  almost typed “the dark ages”. But I won’t. Suffice it to say this one is from my childhood. For Ipana toothpaste. Their representative was Bucky Beaver. I think they exaggerated the extent of his buck tooth-ness but he sure made me want to brush my teeth when I was six. The jingle was cute, too. Brusha, brusha, brusha – here’s our new Ipana. Bucky now resides at "the home" known more commonly as You Tube. Take a look.

Fast forward to the 60’s and you have the iconic Coca Cola commercial with all the hippies singing “I’d Like to Teach the World to Sing”. In perfect harmony – yeah, that’ll happen. It did capture the nation’s attention, though, and I really do like the song. Coke tried for a re-union type commercial many years later. They should have left it alone. Reminding the hippies that they’re moving along in years sent them over the hills and into the ravine where Pepsi was lurking. It wasn't pretty.

Zipping along into this century I have to say that the insurance companies do it for me. When the Geico gecko first appeared I was pretty sure I wanted to invite the charming little fellow over for tea and scones. The British accent gets me every time and his sense of wonder about insurance is pure advertising genius. Same with Flo, that riveting babe for Progressive – insurance. Whew. Gotta leave politics out of it. Right? If you don’t know what I mean, good. Nobody wants to go there.

There are many others. The Campbell’s Soup commercial where the snowman comes inside and turns into an irresistible little red headed boy slurping his tomato. Love. And some are so obnoxious we can hardly stand them. We have a local car lot whose owner has been saying “it’s Huuuuuggge” at the end of his ads for decades (or so it seems). There are some who secretly hope a huge comet finds him and puts  him out of our misery. And then there are The Pajama Gram girls – no wait – that’s hubby’s fave, not mine. Mr. Hoody Footy I call him.  Whew! Veering off here.

Anyway, you get my drift. Go ahead and let me know which pulls-you-out-of-the-kitchen commercials do it for  you. I’d love to know.

Image: Free Digital Photos