Television Commercials and the Decline of Western Civilisation, Part 3

First off, I gotta do something about that title if I keep coming back to it.

Anyway, this post is less of a rant than my two previous posts on the subject. Actually more of a validation of those posts… I was perusing the discussions on Plastic this past week and a couple stories caught my eye. They tie in pretty well with what I had discussed earlier, so I thought I’d share:

First story was about a new patent application for a technology that would prevent viewers from skipping commercials on their digital video recorders – or prevent viewers from changing the channel during commercials while viewing live. Pretty insidious sounding… but on the upside there are a number of reasons this wouldn’t actually be used – not the least of which is that consumers are highly unlikely to buy a product that adds new restrictions to use, if there is an alternative (including older technology). So hopefully it’s just a ‘defensive patent’ intended never to be used. But the story and discussion were pretty revealing about the attitudes of the broadcasting and advertising industry. Basically, you will watch the ads, or you are stealing. Even getting up to use the washroom during a commercial break seems barley tolerated.

My personal solution, or challenge rather, is as follows: if you want people to watch your ads, make better ads. A good advertisement, even for a crappy product, will at least keep me entertained and get my attention so that if the product is a good one, it will gain my consideration. I won’t avoid good ads. Hell, I’ve even paid to watch them on occasion. The Cannes Lions advertising award winners, shown annually, are always entertaining. If I can squeeze in a viewing of them, I’ll gladly pay the equivalent of a movie ticket to watch. Only problem is, they’ve become so popular in the last few years, I’m rarely on top of things enough to buy tickets before they sell out, because too many other people want to see them. Broadcasters, are you paying attention?

Second story was on one of the product groups I’ve seen advertised way too much recently – multi-blade razors. From the discussion it is clear I am not the only one who thinks these have gone beyond overkill. And I’ve learned way more than I ever needed to know about the razor industry. Some tidbits:
- In addition to the 5-blade razor being predicted by the Onion a year in advance, the 3-bladed razor was similarly predicted in a fake ad on SNL’s first episode ever in 1975.
- While the 2-blade razor was an improvement over the single blade, the rest are pretty much useless. The Mach 3’s benefits apparently stemmed from its much improved blade technology, but would’ve worked fine with 2; the third was added pretty much as a marketing gimmick, but backfired when it produced a proliferation of multi-blade competitors.
- Not only do shaving ads attempt to convince consumers to buy the latest in technology, they also attempt to promote shaving behaviour that minimises razor longevity and thus increases consumption.
- And of course, additional blades are pretty much an inevitability. Any attempts at satire involving an N-bladed razor are doomed to become reality at some point in the future.

So I guess, at least there’s hope in that other people are recognising the same problems… and crappy ads and crappy products still only need to appeal to a subset of the population to work, not the majority. But still… I’ve got this fear that at some point in the not-so-distant future, the corporo-fascist regime will push through laws requiring viewers to sit with their eyes pried open as they are forced to watch commercials for the latest 15-blade razor… am I just being paranoid?

Autopilot

Coming into work today I had the good fortune of finding a parking spot right by the entrance to the lot. Usually by the time I come in the good spots are all taken and I have to park several rows back. Today however I must have arrived just after this spot was vacated, so I gladly took it, scampered to the office, and had a very uneventful day at work.

On the way out I walked back into the lot as usual, stopped and looked around for my car. I conducted a broad visual sweep of the lot until my eyes settled on my car, barely a metre to my left. I stood there dazed for a few seconds looking at it. I needn’t have been surprised… had I thought about it beforehand I’d have known exactly where it was. What was strange was the realisation that I had pretty much been on autopilot the whole time until being jarred out of it.

I got into my car and left the lot thinking about this. A lot of my life, certainly on workdays, is quite routine, whether by design or by choice. I barely have to think about how I do much of what I do, I just mindlessly repeat the actions of the day before. I thought about what this was doing to my mental capacity. I recalled something I had read years ago about how people who kept their minds active and engaged were less likely to develop dementia and other mental problems later in life. The same article had said that even minor things made an impact, like taking a different route home every day. This part clicked – I am taking a different route home today, I thought. If only to keep my brain “on” for the ride home.

So I did. The trip was… different, not in itself any more or less interesting than the more direct route I usually take. But it certainly was more engaging than my usual trip, and that’s all I asked for. While I’d usually zone out and focus only on the road ahead, I was taking it all in, noticing the details of the suburban houses and still-brown lawns I’d normally ignore, that building on the way – is that new? – and how it was actually a pretty nice day out.

Most importantly my brain seemed to be at full function. This is good, I thought. I should do this more. I conceived of a project for myself – every day for the next week, do something about my routine differently. It might be difficult, I acknowledged, to even think of one thing a day that could be done differently. But at least I’d be thinking, that was the point.

Finally my scenic route took me into my home neighbourhood. One last zig where normally I’d zag – I took one of the more ‘minor’ streets that pretty much has a stop sign every block, though every several blocks they change up the hierarchy so it retains the right-of-way over a more major street. I was coming up to one such intersection – just to be safe though, I slowed a bit and watched for cars rolling through. Sure enough, just as I approached, a car barely slowed as it came in from my left, attempting a left turn. I laid onto the brakes and horn… the car screeched to a halt halfway into the intersection just ahead of me. I cautiously piloted my car around the stopped vehicle, gave the driver a glare, and continued on. As I approached the end of the block I looked at the rear view mirror. The car was still stopped in the same place. Perhaps the driver needed to collect herself, being jarred out of autopilot.

Fools Fest Recap - Part 4 of 4

Sunday morning I awoke feeling refreshed from a good night’s sleep. No, definitely hadn’t won the party from the night before. Checked my watch – 7 am. Still two hours before gametime – whose alarm is going off? No one needs that much prep time. Must be someone's first tourney... Anyway, back to sleep.

Woke again at 8 am. Plenty of time to get ready, games never start on time, certainly not those early Sunday morning. A leisurely breakfast, get my game gear ready, and off to the fields in good order.

Suddenly though, a few of the guys on the other team appear looking rushed, scrambling to gather their gear together – “We leave in five minutes!” What? Why? Games would be starting then, apparently. That can’t be right – we didn’t start until 9, the women not until 10:30, it was clearly written on the playoff schedules at the party. Quickly it became clear though that I had in fact failed to set my watch ahead, something I was certain I would remember to do. Games were scheduled to start in five minutes, so I got some shorts on, grabbed my gear, and headed out with the other guys.

Despite the apparent rush, we still had time to grab breakfast to go – greasy fast food breakfast, a touring staple – and headed to the fields. The campus fields we were supposed to play on had been rained out, so it was back to the crappy state park fields. At least the detour would mean we were less late, relatively speaking.

Getting to the fields it looked like some of the college games were already on. We had to find where we were playing quickly. Tracked down the new disc central and one of the tournament directors to find the details. As it turned out, not only had the games been moved but the fields reconfigured and renumbered, and those lovely well-considered brackets from the night before? Left at the party. We found our new matchups and headed to our respective games.

I got to the game just before it started, and rushed to get ready. Did the pregame cheer wearing one cleat and one shoe. Game on.

Game 5: Arkansas
Though we were playing mostly against other club teams, a few of the top college teams had been selected to advance to the club bracket, and Arkansas was one of these. Might’ve been a relatively easy matchup in regular conditions, but the wind had really picked up on Sunday and was pretty much straight upfield/downfield, making this one of those games when the downwind strategy was huck and zone and upwind points would be crucial. We lost the toss and were at a disdvantage going upwind to start. For the first several points neither team was able to score upwind, though we got close a few times. After a few close calls for us barely scoring with the tailwind, one of the captains called a timeout, and stressed the importance of getting the hucks downfield to make sure the other team had a long field to work off if there was a turnover. Perhaps that jinxed us; on the next point the same captain had a huck attempt point blocked and the other team quickly capitalized to get the game’s only upwind point. We couldn’t match and lost by that single break (something like 11-8). I played about four downwind points, but as a secondary target to the main huck-and-hope receiver, and never touched the disc. Notably, the game featured both a Callahan (ours) and a greatest (theirs).

Game 6: Colorado State
The loss put us into the consolation bracket. I think many teams were simply forfeiting their conslation games but we wanted redemption. We were matched against Colorado State, a moderately highly ranked college team. We played on another field, slightly better aligned to the wind (now diagonally upfield/downfield) but with an even greater slant than out field from the first day. The game started out well enough and we held a small lead early. Colorado State scored an upwind point, but we refused to buckle and scored one to match. Eventually, though, they figured out our zone and started methodically working against it with a disciplined four handler set, taking a few more upwinders. I played a single point, had a turnover on my only huck attempt (still hadn’t figured out the wind) but followed that up with a layout D. To no avail, however, they took the point on the next possession and the game a few points later. That would be it for us for the weekend.

I lingered around for a short time thereafter. The DingWop guys were clearly disappointed with the finish but that was tempered somewhat by the fact that this was to be a ‘fun’ tourney for them from the get go. Anyway I exchanged farewells with the captains and a few other players – really appreciate being able to play with you guys… no it was great to have you, thanks for picking up… etc. – and headed off to join the women. They had just finished up the tourney with a win over a KU Betty reunion squad, but forfeited the result so they could leave early. Due to the rescheduling, their final, should they make it, would not be ‘till 5 pm instead of 1:30 as planned, so staying was not an option. We headed back to the car, attempted to sponge off the mud from our arms and legs with wet socks, and packed up. One last stop, then outta Lawrence ‘till next year.

The last stop, of course, was Chipotle for another round of giant burritos. A few of the other women were there already. We got our food and sat down with them. Slowly the rest of the women’s team trickled in until pretty much everyone was there. Kind of a neat symmetry to the weekend. We all finished up and headed out. Another long stretch on the road. With minimal stops, we made it back in just over 12 hours, getting in by 2:30 am. And with that, the first ultimate road trip of the year had come to a close.

Fools Fest Recap – Part 3 of 4

Following the end of games on Saturday most of the team had hung around the fields until sunset. Nice night for it, but I was getting anxious to go. The women had played at the main fields on campus, while we were at a state park miles out of town. Their games and ours were long finished and they were probably wondering where I was. No luck getting in touch by phone, and no one was in a hurry to leave. I resigned myself to enjoying the time there and accepting I was probably in trouble when I got back.

Finally people started to head back to their vehicles. I had to find a ride back with someone, the people I came with had already left. There were 11 of us, and a dog, for 2 vehicles. Hmmm. I got in with three other people in the back seat of an SUV. Not comfortable, but it worked.

Not wanting to inconvenience the others in the vehicle, I told them they could drop me off on the way across from the fields on campus, given it was a relatively short walk for me from there. As it turned out they were headed first to a pizza joint located at the same intersection, so I told them they could drop me there. No time for pizza, I should really be getting back. Said my goodbyes and started jogging towards the billet. It was a bit farther than I recalled – was it really only a ten minute walk? Seemed to be taking that long to run the same route. Finally the billet was in sight. People were hanging out on the porch. Good, not everyone had left for the party. As I walked up I was greeted with “Ah, there he is” and told that there was a note on the door for me. “Does it say I’m in big trouble?” I wondered aloud. No, it did not. It said that my wife and some of her teammates had left to go to a pizza joint for free food, if I got back soon I should join them. The name of the pizza joint was familiar. I had just been dropped off there. Dammit!

I dropped my stuff off inside and jogged right back. Found my wife et al in short order. Recounted the mixup, to their amusement. Got some free pizza. All good. Also caught up with the DingWop guys who were there. I’d see them at the party. But first, I needed my wristband to get in. None of them had them. The guy who did? Back at the hotel. However… they were headed right there, should I hop in with them? OK, I said. My wife and her friends were going shopping. I told them I’d see them later with my wristband.

I hopped in again in the same vehicle. Four in the back, again. We got to the hotel downtown and found the rooms. The guy with the wristbands? Not there. OK, I’ll just hang out for a bit – chill with the team and have a few beers. Finally he arrived and I got my wristband. I checked my watch – getting late. Gotta go, I said, and headed out.

Now – I hadn’t completely thought this through on my way in, but I had to get back to the billet – again – and I had no ride. No one was heading back that way; I doubt any of them were in a condition to drive by this point. Well, fine. I knew where the billets were, I knew it was less than three miles away, and I knew I was in good shape. I’ll jog, I decided.

I knew if I just go down Massachusetts to 19th and then head west, I’m pretty much there. But Mass Ave is too full of pedestrians and running in a straight line is boring, so I took a more diagonal routing. What I forgot was that this would take me right into the KU campus, which was a little disorienting, but certainly made for an interesting route. After taking some winding campus roads and cutting between dorms and lecture halls, I finally found my way out and onto 19th. A few more blocks and I was there. Only 40 minutes. Not bad.

By this time, though, people were getting antsy to leave. I had a quick shower, cleaned up nicely, and was ready to head. On to the party!

After my early evening adventures, the party might’ve been a letdown. But this was Fools Fest, and the 25th anniversary no less, and the party was decidedly on. Free beer, of course, and this year they’d lined up a band for the night – Liquid Soul, I highly recommend checking them out. Most of the women’s team skipped out early or stayed home entirely, but the Dingwoppers were there in full force. Definitely picked up with the right team. We drank, danced, grooved, and caught up with a few of the guys till about 1 am, then decided it was about time to head. It was starting to rain, games would be starting at 9 am the next morning (yeah right), and we would lose an hour of sleep because of the time change – fall back, don’t forget! – so we’d have to forfeit any chance of winning the party this time. In keeping with the theme of neglecting to plan ahead we had no idea where to get a cab nor any means to call for one, but we tracked down someone with a cell phone and someone else who knoew the relevant number to call. Ten minutes later we had a cab and rode through the now pouring rain back to our billets. Five minutes after that we were in the door, in bed and sound asleep. One more day of Fools Fest glory awaited in the morning.

Fools Fest Recap – Part 2 of 4

Saturday games were all pool play. Individual summaries follow.

Game 1: Small Packages.
Our first game was against Small Packages, an Iowa team made up mostly of the guys from Chad Larson Experience, a mixed team that had surprised many to advance to the UPA finals in 2004. Apparently the team is disbanding this year but to remain eligible to play in Worlds they can’t play on another mixed team, so the guys are playing open. A few will be playing with Dingwop this season, there was some familiarity between the teams and it was a friendly match. Small Packages were just a bit stronger that this point in the season, but we were hanging with them early. About six points in, one of the promising young recruits on the team had a massive layout D but separated his shoulder. We lost him and a few other players as they took him to the hospital. That took some wind out of our sails and they finished us off 11-8. I started out the tournament with a quick point on which we scored without me being involved, then on the next point I got a d-block on a poorly chosen throw, then scored on a diving catch of a break force hammer. Double happiness! Or ‘bookends’, as the Minnesotans call it. Stats: 4 points played, 2 D’s, 2 turnovers, 1 goal.

Game 2: Armed and Hammered
This game was against a bunch of veteran players from Iowa and Colorado, I think a few of them were some older, formerly world-class players who had settled in the UPA headquarter territory of Boulder, CO. They were a step above us, we probably couldn’t have expected to win, but never challenged either. We played flat and lost 12-3. I played 4 points and don’t think I touched the disc. After this the team looked dejected and the team leaders pointed out a need for more desire and generally better play across the board. Next game would be key.

Following this game we had a bye. I chilled and watched the game between the two teams in our pool we hadn’t played yet. By this point I had been in the sun way too long and hadn’t applied sunscreen. I finally tracked some down but the damage was done already. I’d be burned all weekend. I was starting to worry about sunstroke and wondered if I’d have anything left for the next game. Copious amounts of water to drink (counteracting the beer which one of the other pickups had brought, 2 5-gallon kegs), and I was feeling better. Ready for the next game. The one I was looking forward to.

Game 3: Suspicious Characters
This game was against a team from Tulsa that had come down with a very short roster and picked up a few players. One was an associate of the Dingwoppers; the other Winnipeg guys picked up, plus a guy from Dallas who had come to Winnipeg for a good chunk of last summer. All in all, a fairly familiar team. Right before the game we were buoyed by the return of our teammate in a shoulder sling, and we were fired up to win this game. We came out strong and the outcome was never in doubt. I played a fair amount (about 7 points), got two D blocks (including a foot block, always makes me happy) and committed one turnover. The final point was epic, I would be surprised if it was any less than 20 minutes long. I was ready to quit at more than one point. Had two potential game-ending throws sail just beyond my reach as I layed out, then I had to go back and play defence. At last we scored, final was 11-3 or something.

Game 4: Dorothy Reunion
As the name suggests, this game was against a reunion squad of players from Kansas State University, the Flying Dorothies. Kansas State doesn’t have the same ultimate pedigree as the host Kansas University, but I was expecting they’d be at least decent. They were, but this was a game we could easily win if we kept up the play from the previous game. It started out that way, and we were clinging to a small lead, but then somehow we lost our edge and our intensity and it slipped away. Don’t remember the exact final score, something like 13-9. Through this, I still played what I though was a pretty good game, maybe my best of the weekend. Played about five points, got two D’s, turned it over once, and scored two points.

After the game we all gathered for a DingWop tradition. Shout-outs over drinks – I can’t remember the name of the drink but it involved a few ounces f tequila in a straight glass, topped off to about the ¾ mark with squirt, which was then covered and slammed down a few times till it foamed up, then delivered to the recipient to down in one shot. The person issuing the shot would give a shout out to someone else on the team for something they remembered from the day or something they brought to the games that day, while preparing the drink; once they were finished the recipient took the shot and it was their turn to give a shout out. I got my shout out early from the guy I had been in touch with earlier about picking up – something about having the courage to come out and play with a bunch of people most of whom I’d never met before – it was touching and the delivery almost poetic. After taking my shot and suffering from the combined effects of too much sun and a few ounces of tequila, I scrambled and delivered a hastily conceived shout out to one of the guys who had made a bunch of big plays in the previous games. The rest of the shout outs were delivered, the tequila and the beer kegs were drained, and we lingered at the fields for a while afterwards, throwing some hucks, chatting, and enjoying the beautiful weather until twilight fell.

Fools Fest Recap – Part 1 of 4

Left Friday morning at 6:30 am, beginning the epic drive from Winnipeg to Lawrence. Four people in the vehicle, including myself, my wife and two Trogdor teammates playing with the women’s team. Now, at times riding four people to a car plus gear (a lot of gear at that) for 15 hours can be problematic… but the ride down was fairly comfortable and uneventful given the circumstances. I think we’re getting pretty accustomed to road tripping. Our next out-of-town tourney, a mere five and a half hours away in Regina, is gonna be a snap.

Anyway… after the long drive, with a few detours for meals and the requisite cross-border shopping diversions, we finally pull into Lawrence at about 9:40 pm. First stop: Massachusetts Ave and a meal at Chipotle. As we walk up to the restaurant, pretty much everyone else on the women’s team is already there. It’s uncanny: despite the vast distances and time covered in a road trip, it’s almost a given you’ll run into someone, on your team or otherwise, on the way. So after catching up briefly we grabbed our giant burritos, made one more stop for essentials (beer) and found our billets. We set up our sleeping bags and thermarests, stayed up briefly to chat, and were out by midnight. Not much left for a Friday night party after the drive, unfortunately.

Saturday morning, up early to head to the fields. A few other players, including a few other Winnipeg guys (Huma, got your own recap?) had pulled in after we went to bed and had slept under a table in another room that may or may not have been flooded the night before. Gotta love billeting. Gorgeous weather and the billets were close to the fields so we walked over. Located a few guys from DingWop, the Duluth/Minneapolis/nearby places in Minnesota and Wisconsin team I was picking up with. We headed out to some distant fields that had never been listed as locations for play on the tourney website. Fools Fest is a historic if not legendary tournament, but not run particularly sharply. We arrived at the fields, and had a look around. Less than impressive. The field we were on most of Saturday had about a 5 foot drop from one corner to the opposite one, and was covered in long dead grass. Anyway, play on what you have. We warmed up, stretched, did introductions – I was one of many pickups for this tournament, we had a roster of 24 – and headed into our first game.