It has been a long day for me. Actually, it has been a long week. It has been a long month already, even — I said as much on May 1, and just over a week later I feel the heavy truth of it. And there are still three weeks to go.
Not that things are bad, you understand. I have a lot going on, and I’m having to work my brain overtime.
What I would most like to do, really, is to not think for a while. Not thoughts. Not even any thoughts about having no thoughts.
It’s times like these that I’m glad television exists.
You know the classic Tootsie-Pop commercial (”A-one, a-two-hoo!, a-three, CRUNCH”). I learned today that this is known as the “Mr. Owl” version, and it’s the short version of a 60-second commercial.
The video above is the full commercial.
Some notes:
That little boy looked all over the forest for someone to answer his
question. Also, apparently the forest he looked in was “The Freaky-voiced Animal Forest,” because those are some almost-creepy-sounding
critters he talked to.
We’ve played this video a bunch of times today in the Big Big Design office, and Anthony cracks up every time Mr. Cow says “Yeeees?”
Mr. Cow? Not Mrs. Cow or Ms. Cow?
The long version doesn’t include the shot of the unhappy boy’s face looking at the stick of the eaten Tootsie-Pop. I miss that.
The blurb on YouTube says this commercial was originally aired in 1969 and that it may be the longest-running TV commercial. It’s certainly among the most memorable.
Related: If you have a darker sense of humor, you may enjoy this parody of the Tootsie-Pop commercial as well. I abhor violence, but I’m kind of with the kid on this.
Food and beverages will be available for purchase from Finnegan’s Wake, as always. Arrive when you like, leave when you must.
SMOKING NOTE: As always, the room in which we’ll be blogfesting will be smoke-free. The rest of the bar allows smoking, so one can hop out for a smoke break. There’s a glass wall between, so the smokers and nonsmokers can stare at each other and see how the other half lives.
As always, if you plan to attend, please send an e-mail to "blogfest at-sign closkey dot com". I hope to see you there!
Some time back, I participated in a tequila tasting. It was quite enlightening and great fun — not just because we were sipping at quality tequilas at 11am on a Monday morning, but also because we had a perfect guide in the person of Gene Mangrum, the Director of the Ministry of Culture at Mad Mex.
PeterB, the organizer of this worthy event, has written up a concise report on the shenanigans: “Cinco de Agave.”
I’ve been thinking about the song references in the song "Plus Ones" by Okkervil River.
In case you’ve been wondering too, here are the lyrics with referenced songs footnoted and linked.
Plus Ones
No one wants to hear about your 97th tear (1), so dry your eyes or let it go uncried, my dear. I am all out of love to mouth into your ear, and not above letting a love song disappear before it’s written. And no one wants a tune about the 100th luftballoon (2) that was seen shooting from the window of your room, to be a spot against the sky’s colossal gloom and land, deflated, in some neighbor state that’s strewn with 99 others.
8 Chinese brothers (3); well, there’s a reason why the last is smiling wide and sitting higher than the others, swinging his arms.
You would probably die before you shot up 9 miles high (4), your eyes dilated as light plays upon the sight of TVC16 (5) as it sings you goodnight. Relaxed as hell and locked up in cell 45 (6), I hope you’re feeling better. The 51st way to leave your lover (7), admittedly, doesn’t seem to be as gentle or as clean as all the others, leaving its scars.
All in the after hours of some Greenpoint bar, I told you that I can’t listen, baby, about the 4th time you were a lady (8), and how your forthrightness betrayed a secret shyness, stripped away by days of being hailed as "Your Highness." And what’s new, pussycat, (8.5) is that you were once a lioness; they cut your claws out. Kitten, not everyone’s keen on lighting candle 17 (9). The party’s done. The cake’s all gone. The plates are clean. The chauffeur’s leering from the cheerless mezzanine. And, in just 1 year, the straight world can pay to see what they’ve been missing.
You were caught kissing 8 Chinese brothers, but there’s a reason why the last is smiling wide and sitting higher than the others, stinking with charm. And he says, "Let’s get lost. Let them send out alarms." (10) He says, "Let’s get crossed out and come to harm. Let’s make the world’s stupidest stand and truly mean it. Let’s hit the limit of laws over lovers’ arms - no, let’s exceed it."
1 "96 Tears," Question Mark and the Mysterians, 96 Tears (1966).
6 "Care of Cell 44," The Zombies, Odyssey and Oracle (1968). (I had to look this one up; had no idea what it might be. But it turns out that Matthew Sweet and Susanna Hoffs covered this song, and maybe also Elliot Smith? Seems as much like an Elliot Smith song as anything I’ve heard.)
8 "Three Times a Lady," The Commodores, Natural High (1978). (FWIW, this was the supreme slow dance song of my junior high years, and therefore among my most-dreaded songs at that time.)
