Uncle.

This commercial says to me that Citibank customers are complete defeatists. It seems to me that Andy still could have rescued that omelet, but at the first sign of trouble he just caves and surrenders to scrambled eggs. I'm not a cook, so I may be wrong. But since nobody, save one, seems to have an idea of how to write to me with compliments (yeah, right) or complaints, I don't have to worry about being contradicted.

A ripping good ending.

I hate easy, painless deaths. Not for myself and most people, mind you. But for villains in the movies. Nothing annoys me more than watching a movie where there is a vindictive, sadistic villain who performs unspeakable crimes against the hero and anyone else who comes across his path. Then during the denouement, he is killed by the hero by any number of plot devices and and dies instantly without ever suffering for more than a second. Why do they do that? A villain should know that he's about to die. It should be slow and painful and he should be fully aware that the hero has won and all his evil is being punished and there is no escape from his (or her) fate. An example of a good death is in the Elmore Leonard film 52 Pick-up (1986) when the evil character played by John Glover is locked in a car which he knows is soon to explode. He is terrified and unable to escape the vehicle. Boom. Great death. Another classic horrifying death is in my favorite Alfred Hitchcock film Saboteur (1942). In this case our villain, Fry, played by Norman Lloyd has slipped while trying to kill our hero Robert Cummings and is is dangling from the top of the Statue of Liberty. Our noble hero is foolishly trying to rescue him by tightly grasping his jacket sleeve. But he can see and so can our villain that the stitches are slowly ripping apart and soon Fry will be falling to his death to the viewers delight and the horror of tourists below. Now that's how villains should meet their death, terrified and fully aware. I felt the need to write this post today after watching a new film in which the despicable hero had an annoying instant death. What was the film? Sorry, that would be a spoiler.

NEW: 5% Cashback at Restaurants - Discover Card Commercial

This Discover spot is one of the commercials that after you've seen it once, you never want to see it again. I hate rhyming commercials anyway since most of them are done by hacks. For instance "seafood" and "fondue" don't rhyme. Whoever does Discover advertising lacks focus anyway. The Peggy concept was good, but has gone downhill since we first saw it. Actually I'm surprised there still is a Discover card. I don't know a single person who uses one.

Does he or doesn't he?

Only in recent years have men been so willing to admit they dye their hair. Despite that there are still many men walking around with grey or white hair that would look years younger if they got a dye job. We're not talking about the Cary Grant types who look fabulous with grey or salt and pepper hair, but people like me who just look old. Or did. Recently on vacation, I went to a salon in Boston and had my hair dyed. The stylist wasn't happy with the first color which was too light and redid it. I was very pleased and within days I actually felt different. I wouldn't say younger, but just more confident and less grandfatherly. Within a month I was once again grey and far away from that excellent salon. So I went to Supercuts in Miami. They couldn't mix the exact formula, but they chose a color that was close and I was, once again, pleased. The only problem was that my scalp itched for days, which I discovered by checking the internet is not that unusual. I should mention that I had tried home colors in the past, in fact several different brands. For some reason none of them took. I followed the instructions, wore the gloves, waited the right amount of time and when I shampooed, voila! grey. What's the point of this post? It's that men should learn what women have known for years. Not having grey hair makes you feel better about yourself and you should try it at least once. Of course you won't feel better if the color you choose is too black, too fake, or even too reddish (always a giveaway). You need to get something close to the color you once had before that shrew Mother Nature took it away.

I started Christmas watching the ending of the worst, most unbelievable movie I have ever seen, starring one of the worst actors who ever made a huge success out of having no talent or charisma at all. The movie: Evan Almighty. The actor: Steve Carell. I can't even imagine how a film let like this gets made. I couldn't possibly have been any better in script form. And if one were foolish enough to film it, why not choose an actor who had some kind of skill in making the absurd believable. Instead they chose Carell, who looks like any man off the street, has an ordinary voice and is about as bland as any actor can be. The only reason one noticed him at all in this film is because they gave him white hair and beard and robe and staff. I only wish I could talk to other actors in this film like John Goodman and Wanda Sykes to see how they felt about playing minor roles to someone so mediocre. I'm so glad I have a blog that nobody seems to respond to because I am sure there are those who actually believe Steve Carell has some talent and I can say here that he absolutely does not.

BEST COMMERCIAL OF THE YEAR.

I haven't decided yet what I personally feel is the best. Stay tuned.

WORST COMMERCIALS OF THE YEAR

Since it is the end of the year, I think I might as well choose the worst commercial of the year. In this case, to me, this (or rather these) are the worst commercials of every year. When I looked FreeCreditReprot up on YouTube there were nine entries. Since I couldn't possibly stomach watching more than one, I chose the first one I saw, which may not be the latest. I don't know what it is that makes these intrusive commercials so sickeningly repulsive: the awful songs, the creepy singer, the joy of their own mediocrity, but I always change the channel. I have also read that the company itself is a scam which only makes me hate these commercials even more. In a year of hundreds of really bad commercials, there are none I find more offensive than these.

Your New Year's Assignment.

Now play close attention. I like writing this blog and god knows I have a million opinions on everything. (Like god should be in lower case if you're an atheist, which I am.) But I am beginning to feel a bit foolish because I am getting so few hits. This is becoming more of a journal than a blog. So, here's where you come in. For starters nobody seems to write any responses other than my much-admired other blogger My Cats are Democrats which you should be reading regularly because it's absolutely brilliant and makes my blog seem pathetically immature and petulant. Despite that, if you enjoy my mostly cranky blog, I'd like you to recommend it to your friends, or your enemies. Even if you don't enjoy it, recommend it. Now there's no sense in recommending it to Republicans because I detest them and it's obvious. But Democrats or Independents will find lots to like. If you have any friends in advertising, give them the address. In fact, give it to lots of people. Write it on rest room walls. Slip the address into a pile of slacks when you're shopping. I don't care how you get the word out, just do it. Otherwise I will have to write one of those tear-jerking, "This is my last post" posts and none of us want that. Do we?

Note: Obviously this photo is a complete fraud. I haven't looked like that in decades. Also the IBM Selectric is a dead giveaway. So that sort of deception is kind of annoying. On the other hand, think of it this way. It's the only photo I have, proving that I am not some vain egomaniac who is forever leaping in front of a camera. In fact, if you knew me we would probably be the best of friends. So why wouldn't you want to help one of your best friends get a bit more traffic on his blog. I hate laying guilt on people, but am counting on you, and only you, to get those stats numbers up. And if they remain the same I'll know just who to blame and be terribly disappointed.

Where Will I Be Next Christmas?

The good news this week is that the war is over in Iraq and the soldiers are coming home. Sadly we are still fighting in Afghanistan so it's not good news for everybody. This Christmas song was written by John Dusenberry and me last year when America was still fighting two wars. It's not really a war song, but this seemed an appropriate visual theme this year when so many soldiers are still asking where they will be next Christmas.

Separated at birth.

Am I the only person that thinks the young Peter Billingsly looks like Karl Rove must have looked as a child. The big difference is that Peter grew up to be a very handsome guy and Rove is just a pudgy, weak-chinned, warmongering, meddling old queen.

Animal Amistad?

I know this commercial is supposed to funny, whimsical and adorable. But I find it creepy and bizarre. Here we have an African American who, in order to save on his electric bill, has turned guinea pigs into slaves. He trains them to row a boat, something I imagine actual slaves did in early America. All right, it's a stretch, but that's how it hits me. Also, loving animals as I do, I find nothing amusing about using animals as labor, even if they are rodents.

This post is not as Bah Humbug as you may think. As many readers know I have a pet peeve about mispronunciations, especially by newspeople who are paid huge amounts to speak correctly. Christmas brings with it a particularly annoying misspeak. This doggerel addresses it.

There is no Santa Claus.

In this festive season,
I wish broadcasters would pause
To remind each news staffer
That there is no Sanna Claus.

Reporters will be shattered
Anchors will be dazed,
And almost everyone in news
Will surely be amazed.

If you tell them bluntly
They’re sure to drop their jaws.
So why not whisper in their ears
“There is no Sanna Claus”?

There is no Sanna Claus, you know.
There simply is no Sanna.
Nor Sanna Cruz nor Sanna Fe
Nor a wind called Sanna Ana.

There Is no Sanna Barbara
What’s more, there never was.
There is no Sanna Rosa
And there is no Sanna Claus.

We put Christ in Christmas
So I’m asking you why canta
Group of news announcers
Put the T back in Santa.

The money that nobody wants.

Recently the United States mint has issued over a billion presidential dollar coins. Their goal is to encourage Americans into using coins instead of paper dollars, which would save the government half a billion dollars annually in printing costs. Unfortunately Americans are showing as much enthusiasm for coins featuring Garfield and Polk as they did for Sacagawea years back. So most of these shiny tributes to past presidents are being stored and here's one example of why. Not only ago I wrote a musical with composer John Dusenberry. The title was The Accidental President and the subject was Millard Fillmore, the 13th President. Since I am still trying to get asecond production (It was procuded in Manhattan Beach, California) I was delighted to hear there was a new Fillmore dollar. Ah, what a good promotional tool to send with the script and sheet music. I went to TD bank and they said they would order fifty coins for me. When I went to pick them up, I was greeted with a box of 1000 James Garfield coins. "But I wanted Fillmore." I protested. "The government doesn't allow you to choose specific presidents." was the response. "Then why did you order coins at all?" I asked. Her answer, "We thought we'd be lucky." Forgetting this foolish move on their part, I think it's stupid of the government not to allow choice. Some states would be more eager to distribute presidents who hailed from their area. (Fillmore, for instance, was from Buffalo.) To address this I called the Treasury and was eventually directed to the coinage department. The rep assured me that yes, I could order only Fillmore coins. However the price for 25 coins for $39.00 plus shipping and handling. I didn't think the government was into ripoffs, but $14.00 plus dollars for $25.00 seems excessive to me. I didn't order, and so my 50 Fillmore coins are sitting on shelves someone along with all the other unwanted presidents.

Citi: Accessories

This commercial represents one of my new pet peeves, but it would seem that nobody else notices it but me and a couple of equally picky friends. The commercial itself is fine, though it's a little too cute by half. What bothers me is that the female announcer says, "And what girl woonent want..." This is a new epidemic pronunciation problem, mostly among young woman but some men, too, as I pointed out in another post. Instead of saying "wouldn't" "couldn't" and "shouldn't", these challenged speakers say "woonent." "coonnent," and "shoonent". If you can't hear it, I envy you.

Harpies are not mythical.

I just saw another example of one of the lowest forms of Republican toady and, sorry, but its female. This person is not actually an individual,though she thinks she is. She is one of army of blonde, empty-headed, hate-filled examples of psitatious vacuuity. They are often incapable of answering a question as this person was just now on Hardball. But when they can't answer a question, they all have the same defense mechanism, which may have been taught to them by Ann Coulter: the derisive laugh. They think it gives them an edge, but it makes them look even more ineffective and stupid. Now I'm going to give you this woman's name, but it's really irrelevant because there are so many of them being cranked out at a basement in Stepford and they'll pretty interchangeable (except for the haircolor, some are dark-haired). This particular dummy's name is Sally Bradshaw. Just now on hardball she heartily agreed with Mitt Romney (who rarely agrees with himself) that Obama is guilty of appeasement. Of course she couldn't explain what she meant by that or what he should do differently, even when asked several times and given plenty of opportunity explain herself. She did know however that the President of the United States deserves all her unpatriotic, petty, vindictive, childish and mean-spirited vitriol. Having scored no points at all and revealed what an evil person she is, she sauntered off, angry as always, leaving behind the putrid smell of groupthink and the hollow sound of her derisive laugh.