Steelers Deodorant

Someone brought me some Pittsburgh Steelers deodorant. They know I’m a fan. They thought it was funny.

Coming in a black and gold container, it’s called “Steel Curtain”. Likenesses of Joe Greene, Troy Polamalu, James Harrison, and Ben Roethlisberger share the label.

I like it. The little paper that came with the box said it was formulated “through a variety of hands-on experiences” with the team. They were thorough, talking about “capturing the essence of watching film with Ben Roethlisberger in the quarterbacks room,” “the gritty combinations of linemen working out and running during OTAs,” and “the musky scent of proud men celebrating victory in the locker room,” among other aspects.

Yes, I catch some of that in its smell. It’s earthy, slightly woody to me, with a tincture of soggy, muddy grass and complex undertones of sweaty clothing, a spit of coppery blood, and the sharper, almost ethereal tang of victory. When I roll it on after my shower, my confidence vaults to higher levels. I’m ready to spring a hundred yard run. Passers-by are in danger of being tackled. The cats get wild-eyed as I sprint around the house, stiff-arming imaginary defenders, spiking the ball in the end zone, and loosing unbridled celebratory shouts.

My wife, on the other hand, raised her eyebrows at me. “What’s that smell?”

“What smell?”

Setting down her laptop, she’s glancing around. “Did something die in here?” She wrinkles up her face. “Did a cat shit in the corner?”

I sniff with indignation. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

* NOTE: This is not a real product, that I know of. I’m kind of surprised. I figured someone would’ve been all having unique deodorants, or maybe colognes for all professional teams in the U.S. Maybe they do exist. If they do, I’m sure I would’ve seen commercials or adverts. I could google it, but I’m a writer and prone to lazy fantasizing, not working.

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Hump day. It’s become embedded in me.

I don’t work nine to five. I write seven on seven, breaking for some sickness, some holidays. Mostly I write, following the words the muses strew along the paths, trying to connect the story that I glimpse.

Though I don’t work Monday through Friday, the weekend remains the week’s end, and Wednesday remains the middle, the hump that I gotta get over. All psycho, innit? Yeah, a marriage of mental, physical, and emotional energy that started when we were in school in the U.S., and then carried on through employment.

I’m going to get through it with a little Dire Straits, cause I’m doing the “Walk of Life” (1985). It’s a good walking song to stream. “Here comes Johnny singing oldies, goldies, bebob a lula, baby, what I say?”

The video is a fun look back at sports and hairstyles…

 

Floofball

Floofball (floofinition) – A broad set of games involving housepets and round objects. Balls may be used, but blueberries and peas suffice, as do lids, buttons, and pens. The rules vary, usually dependent on species. Generally, cats like to play, “Knock It Off” and dogs enjoy fetch.

In use: “She wasn’t large, but she was smart and playful, particularly enjoying floofball games. While an expert at “Knock It Off”, which she played on the bedroom dresser at one in the morning every day, she also starred at knocking down bouncing ping-pong balls, and was a champion playing fetch with plastic jingle balls.”

 

 

The Commercials

Watching television yesterday, I saw a McDonald’s commercial. It’s surprising that I heard and saw the commercial. I’m fond of muting the commercials or leaving the room as they play. But I decided to stay and watch a few.

In this commercial, the young customer was celebrating as if he’d done something great, in this case, making a basketball shot from half-court. As he celebrated that fantasy, McDonald’s employees said were trying to get his attention to tell him his order was ready.

So, essentially, my takeaway is that you have to be delusional and living in a fantasy world to enjoy McDonald’s.

Next up was an Amazon ad. This one told me that the problems at work, such as being marginalized, can be solved by work, by Amazon. Yeah, really? Fuck me, isn’t that amazing? They’re touting that the businesses and industries that created the problems will now turn around and solve them, and that Amazon can help.

Right, I believe that.

The other commercial that made me groan aloud was a Dodge Ram commercial. In this one, a voice-over talks about how Americans love sports as different games and athletes are shown. Then, rhetorically, we’re asked, “What’s America’s favorite sport?” Their astounding answer is, paraphrasing, “None of the above. Work is America’s favorite sport.” They said, “We were born to work.”

*snark alert*

Yes, that’s what I’ve always heard from others. “Play football, baseball, or golf? Heck, no, I want to go to work. Go to see the Olympic games? No, I’d miss work. Watch the SuperBowl when I can go to work? No way.” 

Perhaps only truck owners think this, though. I honestly can’t say that I’ve ever encountered someone driving a truck, Dodge or otherwise, who said, “My favorite sport is work.”

Dodge — and the other companies — have gone into deep holes of delusion. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I don’t know what’s going on.

Maybe there are millions of Americans who do think that a six dollar McDonald’s meal is so fantastic that they dance and celebrate. Maybe there are millions of people buying the idea that Amazon can help solve the vexing problems of pay inequity, being marginalized, and glass ceilings. Maybe millions of people agree with Dodge, that their favorite sport is work. Or perhaps, these companies believe that if they say it enough, they’ll convince people of the truth behind their visions.

One, I hope no one is buying this new wave of shit.

Two, I really doubt that they are.

I believe most American sit back, watch these commercials and think, what bullshit. Most of them, getting ready to go to work, sigh, and think, one more time.

 

 

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