Getting old
is wonderful.
(At least if
you believe the implication of television commercials).
There’s the
lady who we see walking down a pathway in the midst of a lovely forest, and the
audio overlay rambles on about,
“I’m only
60. I have a things to do and places to go. I have a long life ahead of me.”
(Well,
Madame, not so long as you might think).
and
The ad for
catheters is classic. The announcer raves about the lack of pain associated
with putting them on, or in (depending on your gender). His voice is just so
pleasant and enthusiastic. (You’d almost think a person should delight in the
experience of “slow or no flow” so they could try out such an amazing product!)
And then
there’s the ads for medication of every conceivable variety (and price).
Lately, the
drug manufacturers have assigned every possible combination of syllables to
their products, including such “winners” as Harvoni and Latuda. The guys who
sit around a conference table dreaming up names for medication must laugh so
hard they pee in their pants! (I
know I’ve often poked fun at the stupid medicinal monikers. Every time one of
the commercials airs I’m prone to exclaim, “Please, get me to the emergency room.
My Latuda fell on the floor!” (or) I checked my Harvoni today, and I swear
there’s a big wart on it!")
And as the commercial’s
background music soothes away your cares, the narrator rattles on with
obligatory warnings of the drug’s side effects, including hair loss, impotence,
incontinency, and almost certain death for those who choose this product, over
something else on the market.
As desirable
as the marketers seem to make it to wear catheters, take a myriad of pills, and
generally grow old, it’s a wonder medical science hasn’t come up with a quicker
way to do so!
(They don’t
call them the Golden Years for nothing)!
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