THE DOWNSIDE OF THE BASEBALL SEASON

I normally dvr everything and thus see relatively few commercials, which pleases me no end especially during election cycles.  Unfortunately I like to watch baseball games live and I really, really like to watch baseball in general, even if it's not my team.  With all that viewing comes the trap of being forced to watch commercials.  And as soon as baseball season starts everyone around me gets to hear my yearly rant on the most annoying of all commercials -- the ones for erectile dysfunction meds.

There are three distinctive styles of E.D. commercial.  The first is geared towards the guys.  It shows a 50-ish woman, very beautiful and fit, talking about how wonderful it would be if you could be all intimate and stuff with your gal.  While the litany of  possible sides effects is rattled off at lightning-speed, the lady is waltzing across the screen in a tight dress and combing her gorgeous locks in the mirror and looking all MILF-ish.  The point of this ad is to make fellas believe if they can get it up, their frumpy middle-aged wives will suddenly morph into this chick.

Interpretation #2 appeals to the ladies.  It shows all these happy, midlife crisis-free couples, looking into each other's eyes and cuddling and going to all these wonderful places together.  The message here is if you help your husband get an erection he'll suddenly hold your hand while watching chick flicks and take you on romantic dates with dancing.  He'll think you're absolutely adorable when you get paint on the front of your shirt or break your high heel as you're getting ready to go out.  This stuff would have annoyed the piss out of him before, but now that he's got these pills he'll find you nothing but charming.  This style particularly annoys my mother, who is of the opinion that any couple married any length of time does not sit around making googly eyes at each other.  She also commented on a couple at a restaurant once.  The lady was chatting away and the guy was concentrating on every word and my mother snarled, "Either they're on a first date or he's having an affair.  No man listens to his wife that intently."

The last version appeals to the guy's inner macho man.  It shows cowboys wrangling horses and working on muscle cars.  The Mad Men folks want every guy, from the construction worker to the nerdiest engineer, to think he'll suddenly be all blue collar studly if he picks up a prescription.  For some reason the most aggravating image of this one is the guy doing a belly flop onto his surfboard and paddling into the waves.  I imagine him with one of those side effect four-hour erections and can't help but think his landing on that board couldn't have been comfortable.

I always find it hard to believe they actually have to advertise to get men with E.R. to take the damn pharmaceuticals.  All you have to do is tell me there's chocolate in aisle #3 and I'm there.  You don't have to coax me into buying it.  You'd think  the guys would rush for those boners-in-a-bottle like I run for Raisinettes.  I suppose there could be that male ego thing at play, not wanting to admit, even to a doctor, that he has a problem.  If he won't ask for directions I guess he's unlikely to admit to not being able to perform.  As for the ladies, I can't believe there's a one who falls for our version of the commercial.  I mean, think back to the boyfriend you had at 20 or 22.  Pretty much a walking erection and yet I doubt he playfully fed you popcorn at movies and played tickle-butt as you were washing the dishes together.  If so, you dated a much better class of guy than I.