An About Face(book)

All right, all right, I've heard all the arguments, but it was finally the power of advertising that convinced me to join Facebook.

Right now my sole friend is Clorox.

OOG Edition: Only On Guam

Found as an ad in the Guam Pacific Daily News; which, incidentally, you would get free should you purchase this dish.

We're No. 4! We're No. 4!

Really, A&E? You're bragging about this?


Sure, when I was a kid, Avis Rent-a-Car's slogan was "We're No. 2. We try harder." Oh, it was a zany, innocent era: You could claim to be "no. 2" without any scatological connotations, while your rival's ads featured O.J. Simpson running through airports. And there was some sound reasoning behind it. Maybe they would try harder to reach that top spot.

But No. 4?!? That's…I don't know…decent? Somewhat respectable? A bit underwhelming? I wouldn't pat myself on the back too much. I mean, you're off the medal stand. No one's making a foam hand for you. You're "honorable mention" at best.

(And, oh yeah, we still have pay phones in Manhattan.)

This Is My New Bank

Before, it was Washington Mutual.

Could my son…

…at least put on a fucking necktie for my funeral?!?

Flighty Decisions

After all that hullabaloo about Air Force One's low flight over Manhattan, this is what the photos were used for??? Wow, the economy really is in trouble.

Not That I'm a Conspiracy Theorist or Anything…

But come on—that old salt from Gorton's sitting directly across from the salty little Morton miss, forming a perfect isosceles triangle with that Planters' nut-job? Something vaguely Last Supper-ish about it, if you ask me.


Oh, and they're all having a great laugh at my expense! Well, we'll just see who laughs last, advertising mascots. I am onto you, and we will see who laughs last.

Sea Salt in Wound

I've become rather adept at viewing TV shows that I've recorded on the DVR. I'll zip through commercials at the two-little-triangles speed, or if I'm in a big hurry, three little triangles. So it's all the more impressive when an advertisement catches my eye, forcing me to be kind (to sponsors), rewind, and watch at standard speed. Is this the reason why commercials are getting increasingly surreal? Or is it that creative departments at ad agencies are now populated by the all-grown-up ecstasy generation? Whatever the case, I certainly pressed pause last week when my screen was filled by a sword-fighting Mr. Peanut on the high seas:


The point of this nuttiness? To proclaim that Planters products are now made with pure sea salt. That's right, pure sea salt. Now, if you're like me, you're thinking, "I have no idea why or if I should care about that." As I've previously said, I last purchased salt in 1992. I haven't been closely following any trends or innovations in the industry. I know that a wonderful but hopelessly pretentious local movie theater puts out sea salt to sprinkle on their critically-acclaimed popcorn. But does that mean it's better? Is sea salt of an inherently higher quality than, uh, land salt, or, uh, salt scraped off a cooled-down big fat sweaty guy? I simply do not know.

The Planters website was no help. No press releases on the positive impact of sea salt on the...human body? environment? exploitative world of child labor? So I then turned to our old friend Google. And apparently was not the first to do so.


The first legitimate-looking link that cropped up was from the esteemed Mayo Clinic, who generally debunked the "sea salt is better" philosophy with statements such as:
• "Sea salt and table salt have the same nutritional value."
• "There's no evidence that the additives in table salt are harmful to your health."

Even the pro-sea-salt comment in there ("Many people prefer sea salt to table salt because they claim it has a more subtle flavor") seems like they want it taken with a...you know...grain of...something. Then again, perhaps some place named after mayo shouldn't be getting all high-and-mighty about sodium.

My curiosity sated, I was able to once again focus on more pressing matters. Mr. Peanut on a sailboat...big yellow body...shilling sea salt...it was staring me in the face all along...could he possibly be...
the love child of the Gorton's fisherman and the Morton salt girl?!?

Salt Not in Wounds

We've had a bit of snow and ice here in the Northeast of late, so there's a container of rock salt inside my apartment building. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised that the manufacturer was the Morton company. What with their association with salt and all.

I looked at the label and thought, "Oh, that's clever, they've altered the trademark logo so the little girl is spilling salt on the sidewalk in inclement weather."

Well, color me ignorant, but apparently that's been the corporate logo all along. Because I have a lot of free time, I went to the Morton website, and learned she's been that way—with just a few alterations—since 1914. And the concept has nothing to do with melting ice. In a bygone era, salt that would flow freely in damp weather was kind of a big deal. It was the iPhone 3G of its day. Hence their slogan, "When it rains, it pours."

I suppose I'm glad I never really looked at the Morton girl before. As a kid in Northern California, knowing nothing of icy streets, I would've just thought, "That sassy little girl is a litterbug! Somebody call Woodsy the owl and that crying Indian." And as an adult, I haven't really given salt very much thought. I never read that book about it. And I think I only purchased salt once in my life, probably in 1992. I was earning very little money at the time, and always made note of products that were absurdly cheap, such as salt and matches. (I guess you can't charge too much for anything that's given away free in fast-food joints or bars.)

And while I'm in the supermarket: You know what would be good cross-promotion? The Morton girl and the Gorton's fisherman:

Whether you're a girl in yellow with a big umbrella
Or you wear a yellow slicker and are an old fella
Fishsticks are better when they're salty
And the cost for the seasoning sure is paltry.
Morton and Gorton's, hooray!

That one's on me, Mad Men.

This Guy Can't Win

It's bad enough that he's the long-suffering, inferior-product-offering cable guy in the Verizon FIOS commercials....



But now, apparently, he's dropping a pancake on the kitchen floor in an Egg McMuffin ad. Sigh.

Sharp Advertising?

Just saw a commercial for Sharp Aquos LCD TVs. The gist of it: You'd have to be a physics professor to select a TV these days; luckily, the star of the commercial is a physics professor. Scrambling to the Internet, I learned that he is indeed a professor of physics—Gerard Fasel of Pepperdine.

Now, OK, I'll grant the physics professor a little extra cred in the world of technology (less so than a professor of electrical engineering, but much more than, oh, let's say…me).

However, when it comes to the crisp, vivid colors that I might look for in an LCD television, I'd rather the commercial spokesperson not be someone who appears to be AN ALBINO.

So, color me cynical.

Who Are You, Third Guy on the Pineapple Express Poster?

You're not Seth Rogen.

You're not James Franco.

You're not Jason Statham, I know that.

So, who are you?

Oh, it's a rhetorical question. I could go to the official website and learn your identity. I could read the credits on the poster and see three additional names and figure it out by process of elimination, knowing that you're not Gary Cole or Rosie Perez.

But that's not the point.

I have walked past the poster many times.

I have driven by similarly designed billboards.

Text: ROGEN, FRANCO
Image: Three guys
Reaction: Annoyance

Will it keep me from seeing the movie? No, it won't. I've seen all of the recent Apatow-related efforts. Even caught Drillbit Taylor on a recent flight. (You really phoned in that script, Rogen.)

But don't push me, fellas.

This is like the converse to the annoyance I felt 20 years ago, when Young Guns came out.

Emilio Estevez: check. Kiefer Sutherland: check. Lou Diamond Phillips: check. Charlie Sheen: check.

Casey Siemaszko?

Who the %^&#& was Casey Siemaszko? And why was he getting equal billing with Hollywood's genuine young guns? (I know, I know, I'm giving Dermot Mulroney a free pass on this one; I didn't know him in 1988 either. But let's face it, things have worked out a little better for Mulroney, and at least he didn't have an absurd above-the-title name. Which was read aloud on the commercials—shih-MOSH-ko—much to my irritation.)

Wait: Maybe he is the third guy in Pineapple Express....

More New York Discoveries

My brother Paul has an unusual coffee mug in his house. He said our mother gave it to him, one of the many "drug company" gifts that have been bestowed upon us over the years. But this one was something I've never seen before:





So we have here a three-handled coffee mug. Aranesp, by the way, is a drug for chronic renal failure. Does this have anything to do with the mug shape?

Portmanteau, Part Deux

We love our portmanteau words here at Salt in Wound. But with great power comes great responsibility. So I believe we must also serve as Portmanteau Police, seeking out infractions of the form.

Case in point: A radio commercial for the Subaru Forester that I'm guessing is not airing in the greater Topanga area. The voice talent mentions that the vehicle is "perfect for snow and mud, or the very common smud."

Oh, sure, "smud" is fun to say, and calls to mind "smog" (smoke + fog), which I think they do have in the greater Topanga area. But it places entirely too much emphasis on the mud half of the equation. No, the word that should've been used in this instance is snud.

And I'm sure William Safire agrees with me.

I Am Allowed to Say "Super Bowl"

But advertisers aren't. Unless they are somehow officially connected to the Super Bowl. Hence, this is just about my favorite week to pay attention to commercials and print ads. I just love all the euphemisms for Super Bowl. "The Big Game" is the most common. ("Stock up on soda and snacks for the Big Game!") "Your football party" is another. How many can you count between now and kickoff?