No Shame

Is anyone old enough to remember that they used to show cartoons before the feature films? Well, they did. Looney Toons, mostly, I think. Porky Pig, Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd. The classics. Ron and I went to the movies the other afternoon. He'd gotten free passes for tickets, popcorn and drinks. We figured we saved $30, at least. I remember going to the show for less than three bucks. Nowadays three bucks may get you a box of Milk Duds. Anyway, instead of cartoons, we're now bedeviled with "Behind the Scenes" featurettes of upcoming movies. And repeated requests to silence our cell phones. I'll bet half the teens in any given audience are still texting like mad during the whole movie. Oh, and we're also a captive audience for commercials. Is nothing sacred? We go to the theater (pronounced thee ah ta) for an out-of-the-ordinary film experience. We all can rent movies and sit at home in Barcalounger or LazeeBoy in our underwear or pjs and watch movies. When we go to the theater (pronounced thee ah ta) we don't want to see ads for Viagra or be told to have a happy period (I seriously want to draw and quarter whoever dreamed up that tagline - a happy period? The only happy period is the one at the end of a sentence that ends with the word 'chocolate.' See? That period's delirious!)

So, tonight, Ron's running into Hen House to get a pound of ground round to top our CostCo giant pizza (half of which ended up in Zooey's stomach - she's been banished to the basement) and I'm sitting in the car, taking in the lovely Merriam scenery when I happen to notice that the parking lot stripes are quite a bright white. Wait! There's writing on those lines. What is it? "Life comes at you fast?" Well, now I've seen everything. Advertising on the parking lot stripes. I'm not even kidding you. Nationwide is not only on your side, it's on every side. As Ron got back into the car we had a "Can you believe this?" conversation with the guy parked next to us. All three of us were shaking our heads in disbelief. Ron almost backed the Prius into an old lady . . . who was looking at the parking lot lines.

So, what's next? Billboards on the highway pavement? Don't tell anyone I said that. Because, if you do, it will happen.