I talk to the TV a lot – all of it is negative – mostly I am talking to the actors who do the commercials. There’s the guy who says “Who would believe I’d have a heart attack at 53 (sic)?” As I attend to chores, clearing the table, wiping counters, I snarl, “I would, jerko. Too bad you didn’t just keel over and we’d be spared this stupid testimonial to whatever drug you’re hyping.”

And so on.

Of course, back in the early '90s I took a TV Commercial course at one of the studios in New York. It was just after Jay died and I was looking for something to distract me. If I had gotten work, beyond a few minor crowd scenes and a skit that was never aired, I would probably be one of these obnoxious hypsters that I now sneer at. But I am sure the residuals would have mollified me. I didn't pursue it because I had a day job (going to auditions was tricky) and because getting the work is ever so much more time-consuming and draining than the work itself. And did I mention the rejection?

Back to snarling: I am particularly hard on Olive Garden and Quiznos and other outfits that glorify gooey, cheese dripping, fat laden entrees and urge viewers to gratify their gluttony.

Then the commercial comes on urging you to read labels and avoid trans fats, and to take Lipitor for high cholesterol.
(Go back to first paragraph about early heart attack.)

I snarl at commercials that use children since, most often, the child is not natural (there are a few exceptions) and comes across as a 1950s sitcom brat. In case you don’t remember the ‘50s, a typical line from a small boy is “Gee Gramps, do you think they’ll hurt Lassie (snuffle, gulp)?” Save the dog, kill the kid, was my advice.

I am usually politically incorrect. I am an equal opportunity curmudgeon-ess to all age groups and genders. It keeps me sane.

Sometimes Ed calls out, “What …?”

“I’m snarling at the TV,” I explain.

“Oh.”

I should add that expressing myself in this way relieves me of any desire to act out these feelings. Try it. It’s great.

xx, Teal