As Seen On TV

Happy New Year!

The holidays have their good points: half-priced cashmere at Bloomingdales, no-explanation-necessary baked goods, and the freedom to wear Uggs without (as much) judgement. This joyous time of year also brings with it plenty of vacation time from the office, and while I'm unspeakably grateful for the extra hours of sleep and mindless channel surfing, the time off has afforded some frightening discoveries. Because so many of my free minutes are spent slowly creating a me-shaped indentation on the left side of the couch, my daily intake of TV commercials has risen far beyond a safe level.

One of several disturbing trends I've noticed, now that I start my day with Regis and Kelly and end it somewhere between reruns of The Hills and Top Chef marathons, is the inordinate amount of weight-loss ads. This is obviously nothing new, considering some of my earliest memories involve watching my mother correctly position her shoulder pads while Slim Fast promos play incessantly in the background. But today's diet gimmicks aren't all fun and jazzersize. Take, for instance, Alli, or as like to call it, Self-Degradation in a Bottle. The ads' positive vibes and soft-lit color palette almost make you think you're watching a Scientology promo, but alas, Tom "Crazy Eyes" Cruise is nowhere to be found. Instead, a group of dignified, seemingly reliable individuals reveal that the solution to yo-yo dieting has arrived, at long last! But word on the street, and a quick trip to myalli.com reveal all is not well behind the promising, pastel world on the TV screen. The miracle to Alli-aided weight loss is that the pills prevent fat absorption, and if you insist on having that cheeseburger, you can expect what the website matter-of-factly refers to as "treatment effects." In a nutshell, you can expect these "treatment effects" to debunk any romantic notions you have of wearing a size 2. It's hard to maintain any glamorous fantasies of a svelte shape when Alli has just sent you running to the bathroom as punishment for your gluttony. But, hey - what's a little self-respect compared to a smaller butt?

It's not all diet pills and gastrointestinal issues on the airwaves. No, penile enlargement is an important issue too. I used to think these commercials were solely reserved for late-night basic cable, but I've caught a few mid-day as well. My all-time favorites feature the uber-creepy "Bob," who gives the impression that Enzyte's "natural male enhancement" tablets turn users into perma-smiling Bell's Palsy sufferers. I wondered why Bob had only sporadically been appearing during commercial breaks through the years, and good old Google informed me that Berkeley Premium Nutraceuticals, the company behind Bob's enhanced masculinity, was indicted on charges of conspiracy, money laundering, and mail, wire and bank fraud in 2006! Not only was Steven Warshak, the company's president sentenced to 25 years in prison, but his own mother was sentenced to 2!! Of course, these little tidbits of trivia don't mean much because you can still sometimes spot Bob's unsettling smile during your favorite shows, and the Enzyte website is still up and open for business. Just goes to show you, a little hard time (pun TOTALLY intended) can't get in the way of a ceaselessly advertised herbal erectile supplement.

Okay, the last variety of bizarre commercials I have the energy to comment on are the useless household product ads. I've always been an infomercial enthusiast, and have spent years coveting a plethora of Ronco inventions (I'll never get that Food Dehydrator...), but a new breed of random domestic crap seems to invading my regularly scheduled programming. Maybe it's because our attention spans are collectively getting shorter (it took me about two weeks to finish this post...), but it appears the hour-long infomercials of yore have been replaced by highly repetitive, excessively loud, minute-long ads for insanely pointless stuff. Take for example, Snuggie. This is the brand of crazy I'd normally find in a Harriet Carter "Distinctive Gifts" catalogue, but the Snuggie commercial aired smack dab in the middle of my innocent MTV viewing this morning. The website says it all: Snuggie is "the blanket...WITH SLEEVES!" (the ellipses and capitalization were mine, added solely for dramatic effect). I'm not gonna lie, as someone who suffers from perpetual low body temperature, the idea makes (some) sense. But one look at the commercial was enough to turn me off from the sleeved blanket, which unintentionally makes every wearer resemble a Roman Catholic monk. Somehow those geniuses at the Snuggie factory knew all my favorite activities (reading, knitting, drinking tea, using the remote control...) because they feature all these pastimes occurring within the confines of their snugly product. But I won't be fooled! There's no way I'm paying $19.95 (+ $7.95 shipping and handling) only to feel like more of a loser while I partake in the aforementioned Grandma hobbies. But then again, it does come with a complimentary book light...