How to Kill a Commercial

 Out of a past we are very glad to put behind us . . .

My daughter took the two photos below on March 29, 2020. They are of the usually heavily traveled exits off I-4 to Universal Studios and Disneyworld in the depths of the Covid pandemic when we didn't yet have a vaccine.

Exit to Universal

Exit to Disneyworld

 

HOW TO KILL A COMMERCIAL

Grace note:  No mention will be made in this post of political ads, except to say I dread the months between now the November election.

Background:

From the first days of television—and yes, I remember them well—I was fascinated by commercials. Except for Dragnet, I had little interest in TV's content, particularly sit-coms, but visible, animated commercials? Wow! And over the years I've kept a sharp eye out for the commercials that are particularly well done . . . and for those that should never have left the drawing board. Unfortunately, my memory fails me as to the first time I was so annoyed by a commercial that I felt I had to complain, but I would like to mention a series of commercials that are among my all-time favorites:  the vintage Budweiser wagon and the magnificent draft horses that pulled it. When there was no Bud horse commercial on a Superbowl broadcast, I mourned.

Which brings up a tale that has to be told . . .

I lived in the small and absolutely beautiful city of Venice, Florida, for 25 years. For most of that time it was the Winter Headquarters of the Ringling Brothers, Barnum & Bailey circus. (Until the railroad tracks broke down and were too costly to repair.) I lived only a few blocks from the end of the line and was often among those who turned out to welcome the Circus home, watching the parade of performers and animals as they crossed the drawbridge over the Intracoastal Waterway on their way to their performance space beside the airport.

I suspect some connection with the Circus—possibly the filming of a commercial?—accounts for the following:

One afternoon, I drove to my grocery store, my mouth falling open as I discovered the Budweiser wagon and horses stationery in the Publix parking lot! I wasn't seeing things—they were actually there. Wow! I suppose I finally stopped gaping and went inside to get my groceries, but, believe me, this is a sight I will never forget.

Special kudos to Publix Supermarkets, whose ads are consistently well done, as well as family-oriented and heart-warming. One of the most recent—the "Chris" ad—one of the best ever. (Which is probably why it is currently enjoying a re-run.)

And while we're talking about great commercials, I'd like to mention a new one, seen on the televised PGA tour this past week.  The producer - Comcast Business. The commercial shows a golfer teeing off, the commentators breathless as they follow the ball, which ricochets from pillar to post ("Where is it? Where's the ball?") before it plunges into a pond to groans all around. And then . . . a gator pops up with the ball in its teeth, tossing the ball onto the green, where it rolls into the hole, making a Hole-in-One. 

A truly well thought-out, well-executed commercial. If only there were far more out there. Sigh.

But . . .

What to do if you find a commercial offensive, too in-your-face, or whatever.

Yes, Virginia, it is possible to get a commercial taken down. I've done it. There are two primary requirements:

1.  Write a really articulate letter. (Yes, snail mail.)

2.  Address it to the Boss. This usually means the company's president or CEO.  Yes, you can send your complaint to the Director of Advertising, but, hey, he or she likely approved the ad you're complaining about.

Is the CEO going to be opening his/her mail? Of course not, but one of the Administrative Assistants will be. And if you have expressed yourself well enough, the matter will be called to the attention of the Powers That Be.

Of my complaints in the distant past, I recall only one—what I considered the egregious misuse of 9/11 to promote a product. That commercial disappeared so fast I can only assume half the country rose up against it. But my other complaints were also effective; within a few weeks the offensive commercials disappeared forever.

Here are three examples from recent times:

Around three years ago, when I was looking around for a new car insurer, I opted for Progressive. Why? I admit I really liked the "Flo" commercials. Like the Geico gecko, Flo had enduring appeal. Or so I thought until the tone of the commercials changed. Flo was now the butt of bad jokes, made to look stupid. In fact, it looked like the Advertising Department was doing its best to retire Flo in the worst possible way. So I looked up the name of the CEO of Progressive, a female, and laid out my case:  I was writing to her because I suspected the Advertising Department would ignore my complaint. I stated that I had switched to Progressive because of Flo, yet Flo was now being denigrated—a really strange way to encourage new customers, etc., etc. 

My complaint seemed to be successful, buying Flo a few more years, but then came another set of Perfectly Awful Progressive ads and renewed indication that Flo was on the way out. Sigh. Clearly, Progressive's Ad Dept is run by a group of Insensitive Idiots. The latest travesty—the "Don't Become Your Parents" ads. Here is a paragraph from my second letter to Progressive (January 2024), which I stupidly addressed to the Director of Advertising: 

"The problem:  the blatantly anti-parent commercials. Not funny to anyone over thirty, believe me. The big puzzle is, why are you so anxious to sell to the twenty-somethings that you have forgotten those in those in their 30s, 40s, 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s—and yes, some even as old as I am? Almost all of us parents, grandparents, great-parents, and all POTENTIAL CUSTOMERS. Customers currently being mocked by your commercials. Now maybe older family members are mocked in your family, but most certainly not in mine! Nor, I am certain, in a very high percentage of American families."

Interestingly, this letter, which ran to two pages, resulted in the instant withdrawal of the anti-parent commercial that most offended me—mockery of women producing handwork, such as knit and crochet. (I told them I made shawls for the church and caps for the homeless, and thank God for those still keeping these skills alive!) The barrage of other parent-mocking commercials seems to have lessened as well. I still have my car insurance with Progressive, but mostly because I'm avoiding the hassle of switching. (But I'm sorry I didn't choose Geico instead of Progressive.)

The third example involves Lexus.

I probably watched the Lexus "Sasquatch" commercial fifty times before it finally annoyed me enough to write a protest. Remember the one?—a family driving, a boy of around 12 in the back seat. Father mentions Sasquatch; boy asks:  "What's a Sasquatch?" Father starts to answer, seemingly attempting to make a joke of it. Mother shuts him down, concluding with some remark about the child probably never being able to sleep again.

The first few times I saw this, I managed a weak smile, but after a while I began to see how truly insidious it was.  A boy of 12 is far more likely to be thrilled by talk of a Sasquatch than frightened. The father comes across as a weakling; the mother as a "Karen," a helicopter parent who even has her husband cowed. I asked Lexus if this was really the right family to appeal to potential Lexus owners?

That commercial was gone from our screen almost immediately, replaced by commercials featuring a wide variety of Lexus customers. Wow! 

Want to try your hand at killing a commercial?

I have two strong targets for you.

Seminole Hard Rock Casino

Near the end of this blatant promotion of gambling, we hear:  "Gambling problem, call 1-800-ADMIT IT." Which might be considered a good idea, except that immediately following this statement, a voice proclaims:  "Anyone can win at Seminole Hard Rock, Tampa!"   Sigh.

Even worse, as I'm sure these commercials are seen nationally—the absolute inundation of commercials for Inspire. Ads I consider shockingly deceptive, if not fraudulent, since they give the impression Inspire is a cure for Insomnia when the truth is Sleep Apnea is close to opposite. When my husband suffered from it in his last year of life, I was told his sleep apnea could cause him to stop breathing altogether, resulting in death for someone as frail as he was at the time. As for younger sufferers from Sleep Apnea . . .

From the AARP website:

Not unlike a partner snoring in bed beside you, sleep apnea — defined as the repeated stopping and starting of your breathing while you sleep — can easily disrupt a good night’s rest. Did you know the condition can also be a serious risk to your health?

Untreated sleep apnea has been linked to a number of health issues, including cancer, chronic kidney disease, heart disease, dementia, type 2 diabetes and more.

..............

 'Nuff said, I hope. I urge you to become more critical of the commercials you see. And, yes, you can do something about the bad ones.

~ * ~

I chose Hidden Danger, Hidden Heart for this week's Featured Book after seeing some perfectly beautiful Muslim architecture on Facebook. Hidden has a rather lengthy scene at the Alhambra, which I was privileged to visit sometime in the distant past. One of the things that struck me at the time was the stark ugliness of the fortifications the Crusaders built on the edges of one of the most intricately beautiful palace complexes on earth. The contrast in cultures was startling, and not flattering to Europeans.

When Ashley van Dyne, founder and president of an organic foods business, finds herself in the middle of a world-wide threat to the food crop, she has no choice but to turn to entrepreneur Rafael Guerrero, resulting in a resounding cultural clash on two continents. There is also the problem of Ashley's young sister and three other teens who have no idea they are being used for a terrorist's personal agenda. HIDDEN DANGER, HIDDEN HEART offers Suspense, Romance, Drama . . . and a warning.

Grace note:  While walking in Granada, I peeked through an opening in a thick stone wall and saw the courtyard described in Hidden Danger, Hidden Heart and knew, like the Alhambra, I had to put it in a book.

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)

                                         

The "Beluga" & Gallery of Beauty

Next Blog Post - Saturday, 3/30/24

"How to Kill a Commercial"

 

Grace note:  I have been astounded by the number of people from all parts of the globe who were interested in my 2-part "Editing Examples." It was a lot of work, so thank you all for taking the time to look. (Although I'm afraid that means I may have to do it again in the not-too-distant future.) If you missed the posts, they are available in Archives - March 2 & 9, 2024.

~ * ~

On Monday evening, March 11, I saw my first Beluga cargo plane on the TV news. Evidently, it brought a European satellite to Sanford International Airport, only a few miles from my house. (Presumably, its cargo is intended for launch at the Space Center c. 30 miles east of here.)

It was an astonishing sight. The Beluga is aptly named. To take on or unload cargo, the top front half of the plane lifts up, making it look like a whale with jaws open wide enough to swallow a dozen or more Great Whites. I immediately texted Cassidy, our 17-yr-old pilot, to ask if she knew the plane was sitting on a runway almost directly behind her house. Her reply - a photo of the Beluga as it flew over Seminole High School. Evidently, she recognized its uniqueness and managed a photo while walking between classes.

A web search tells me the Beluga is manufactured by Airbus. The company did not show a photo of the plane in "open" position, but I've added their photo of the remarkable raised front of this super-sized cargo plane.

Below, Cassidy's photo of the "Beluga" that came to Sanford.

Cassidy's photo

From Airbus's Beluga website

GALLERY OF EXCEPTIONAL BEAUTY

On the very same day the Beluga came to town, a remarkable array of beautiful photos were posted to Facebook. (Most days, I'm lucky if I find one I can use.) This past Monday, it was a case of one gorgeous pic right after another, an odd coincidence that is unlikely to happen again. I am posting them in the order I found them.

Patio - Cordoba, Spain

An English narrowboat? - no attribution given

Dancing Tree

Waterfront Idyll

Dream Cottage

Two that perhaps don't fit the "Beautiful" category but were also posted on Monday - and well worth viewing:

Capturing the Sun

From National Geographic - way back when, as I recall

 ~ * ~

This week's featured book has a special place in my heart  - for some reason this rather poignant Traditional Regency Romance keeps selling month after month, year after year. The only explanation I've come up with - readers are intrigued by the thought of a silent female! (And yes, the heroine manages it for years on end.)

A snowy night; a waif on the doorstep, who doesn't talk. After agreeing to grant her shelter, Damon Farr goes off to six years of war, returning determined to be a recluse, only to discover the girl is still there. And still not talking. Is "the girl the cat dragged in" destined to be Damon Farr's Sinful Temptation or his Salvation? The odd pair walk a rocky road before the answer becomes clear.

Reviews:

"Blair Bancroft can always be counted on to deliver exceptional characters and/or settings, historical accuracy, unusual plots, and flawless writing. LADY SILENCE is one more sterling example." Jane Bowers, Romance Reviews Today

"LADY SILENCE by Blair Bancroft is a splendid Regency romance! The creative intrigue and alluring characters make this novel a must have." Nadine St. Denis, Romance Junkies

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)

EDITING EXAMPLES, Part 2

 

From Facebook - the UK, I think

Another great deer pic from Susan Coventry

Below, the perfect illustration for a post about Editing:

 

EDITING EXAMPLES, Part 2

As an addendum to last week's Simple Fixes:  this morning, as I wrote, a quote jumped into my mind—one I had no intention of using, but there it was . . . well, almost. BUT one cannot quote Shakespeare without getting it right. So I had to stop mid-sentence and google: "Henry V speech at Agincourt." And, of course, Wikipedia had it in full. Moral of this story:  no matter how sure you are, check to make sure you've got a quote right. 

Attribution of quotes? Sometimes you need to let readers know the source of a quote; others, as with Agincourt speech, are so famous I felt I only needed to mention Henry V, not Shakespeare.(I later changed my mind and mentioned Shakespeare. That's why Editing is not a one-time task.)

Another Quick Fix:

After registering with the gate-keeper, the three young women eagerly entered the narrow path between thick eight-foot walls of greenery, each determined to find her way to the center of the labyrinth without having to be rescued.

After registering with the gate-keeper, the three young women entered the narrow path between thick eight-foot walls of greenery. Despite the sun shining overhead, Isabelle felt an odd unease as the leafy walls closed around her.  [changed to add a bit more atmosphere]                     

 Continuing with Insertions rather than simple Substitutions . . .

1.  Snapping back to the moment, the viscount paced across the hall to stand in front of Miss Bainbridge. "I beg your pardon, Miss Bainbridge, for intruding on your life with no warning . . ."

Snapping back to the moment, the viscount paced across the hall to stand in front of the slight young beauty who seemed to have wilted to the size of a child. "I beg your pardon, Miss Bainbridge, for intruding on your life with no warning . . ."

2.  Clearly, she was spoiling for a fight. Isabelle hung her head. The fault was Papa's, the fault was Papa's. He, not Lord Ashton, had done this. But still . . .

Isabelle hung her head. The fault was Papa's, the fault was Papa's. He, not Lord Ashton, had done this. And yet . . .

Isabelle's satisfaction with the house's transformation turned grim. No matter how illogical, she doubted she could ever forgive Lord Ashton for gifting his brother with her house.  [Juxtaposition & more depth]

3.  Nothing could be settled until he gave his nod of acceptance. Hopefully, along with a word or two of praise before he deigned to reveal her fate. But should she accept his plans for her. . . . ?

And how horridly unfair that nothing could be settled until he gave his nod of acceptance. Yet in some convoluted twist of thought, she hoped for a word or two of praise before he deigned to reveal her fate. And when he did, should she accept his plans for her. . . . ? [Improved clarity]

4.  A wounded warrior. A wealthy wounded warrior. Though for some mysterious reason, she felt not so much as as quiver of interest.

A wounded warrior. A wealthy wounded warrior. Though for some mysterious reason, Isabelle felt not so much as a quiver of interest. Had she lived such an isolated life that she could not experience the emotions of other young women? Or . . .

Not that! Isabelle exclaimed to herself as a vision of an arrogant but handsome face rose up before her. Ashton. The man who had destroyed her life. Never! [Will likely be revised again to something a bit less melodramatic, but a definite improvement over the bare bones of the original]

5.  As Isabelle made her way toward the fountain, her attention was caught by the sight of Mrs. Chillworth—a somewhat plump woman of uncertain years who was seldom without a harried look upon her face, accompanied by the son whose oddity plagued her days. She never loosed her firm grip on her son's arm as she steered him, inexorably, toward the same goal as Isabelle's. Where, it was said, she insisted he drink not one, but two glasses each day in the belief that they might effect a magical cure for whatever ailed him. Not what a young man in his twenties could like, Isabelle acknowledged, as she noted the martyred expression upon his face. She could not help but feel sorry for him, even though she suspected it was he who had spied upon them in the maze.

As Isabelle made her way toward the fountain, her attention was caught by the sight of Mrs. Chillworth—a somewhat plump woman of uncertain years who was seldom without a harried look upon her face, accompanied by the son whose oddity plagued her days. A daily occurrence, according to Laetitia, for it was general knowledge, though spoken of only in whispers, that Hermione Chillworth had convinced herself that drinking not one, but two glasses each day might effect a magical cure for what ailed him. Not what a young man in his twenties could like, Isabelle acknowledged, as she noted the martyred expression upon his face. His mother never loosed her grip on her son's arm as she steered him, inexorably, toward the same goal as Isabelle's. She could not help but feel sorry for him, even though she still suspected it was he who had spied upon them in the maze. [better clarity, better phrasing]

6.  Bath. She was going to live in Bath. Isabelle could scarce believe it. 

Bath. She was going to live in Bath. Isabelle could scarce believe it. 

He has found a way to keep you close, her inner voice warned.

Evil intent under the noses of his mama and grandmama? I think not! [use of inner voice to add emphasis] 

7.  Isabelle rushed to her side, helping her up from the sofa while Lady Ashton continued to glower. Together, they made their slow ascent of the stairs, while the rumors at the Pump Room, the arrival of Gordon, Lord Rutherford, and his nephew, and thoughts of He Who Should Be Scorned all too frequently thrust their way through Isabelle's compassion for her employer.

Isabelle rushed to her side, helping her up from the sofa while Lady Ashton glowered. Together, they made the slow ascent of the stairs, while the rumors at the Pump Room, the arrival of Lord Rutherford and his nephew, and inevitable thoughts of He Who Should Be Scorned thrust their way through Isabelle's compassion for her employer. How was it possible that one vague sighting—albeit by a young lady of the first stare—could set off such a spate of gossip? A pebble initiating ripples that threatened to become a tidal wave. And now, a disturbance in the serenity of Laura Place.

What next? [an addition to add color & emphasize the drama]

8.  Extensive Revision. In one section of my fifteen chapters of revision, I basically tore apart two pages, hand-writing an insert that took up both sides of a legal page, and heavily revising the paragraphs that remained. Fortunately, this is a rare occurrence, but sometimes there is no easy fix; a change of word, a revised sentence or paragraph simply will not do. And tough as it is, you have to knuckle down and find a way to fix it.

~ * ~

This week's featured book:

Two young people marry for reasons less than love, only to discover their false expectations plunge them into a steeplechase of misadventures, one coming close to ending their marriage before it's really begun.

Reviews:

"I had a great time reading this very engrossing and funny Regency Romance. . . . The author is very well versed with the era and its environs from London to Brighton, and the people and customs as well. This is the kind of Regency that I love to read." Maura, Coffee Time Romance

"This novel is filled with witty dialogue and plenty of amusing moments. I found myself laughing out loud several times. I especially loved the interactions between Sarah and Harlan and the interactions between them and their family and friends. This story left me feeling good." Christina, Romance Junkie Reviews

"I really loved this book. . . . [It] reminded me of why I started to read romance to begin with. Boy has to get married. Boy then ignores girl. Girl gets back at boy by being as outrageous as possible and leads him for a 'Steeplechase' with all kinds of obstacles in his way to get his attention. Boy realizes that, yes, he does love the girl! And a happy ending. Enjoy!" Karen, Ecatromance

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)

EDITING EXAMPLES, Part 1

My son sent me this photo a few days ago, wondering how my name was on a tackle box that looked like it should belong to my father, an avid fisherman. Big Moment of Nostalgia. That is my make-up box from a thousand years ago when I was touring with the National Company of The Sound of Music. Wow!

 

No caption needed

 

Porcupine Car

Oops!

 

This past week the Citrus Singers received their biggest cheer ever from Hockey fans in Orlando. (Love the Boy Scout who somehow snuck into the photo.)

 

 EDITING EXAMPLES

When I finished Making Magic With Words, a compilation of ten years of posts on Writing and Editing, I swore that was it. I might do an occasional post on those topics, but no more "itty-bitty nitty-gritty." BUT . . .

The problem is, as I read over my recent post, "Why I Love Editing," it occurred to me that there are still beginners out there, so new to the art of writing that they need a bit more detail to nudge them along. I could almost hear a wail of, "What does she mean by 'add color'?" So . . . this post is strictly for newbies - or for those who are only thinking about writing something for publication. (Unless authors who have fought a round or two want to read along, nodding their heads as they go.)

FYI, "adding color" simply means making what you wrote more vivid, making your words catch a reader's attention, instead of being same-old, same-old.

 

"Editing Examples" will be in two parts. 

Part I: the Simple Fixes.

1.  warm bread became melt-in-your-mouth bread

2. Miss Coleraine, eager for her new friend to enjoy became Miss Coleraine, beset by a mischievous desire for her new friend to enjoy . . .

3.  Well . . . perhaps with a male escort by her side became Well, perhaps with a male escort by her side, she would not be so squeamish.

Tightening while adding Clarification & a Plot Hint:

4.  The stone wall, invisible from the Crescent, allowed an unobstructed view of Bath, while preventing any cows or sheep that might have been allowed to graze upon the grass from wandering into the path of Bath's most illustrious citizens.

The stone wall, four or five feet high and invisible from the Crescent, allowed an unobstructed view of Bath, while preventing cows or sheep from wandering into the path of Bath's most illustrious citizens. A remarkable invention, the ha-ha. Unless one did not closely watch where the walkway abruptly ended, resulting in a plunge to the close-scythed grass below.

Juxtaposition:

5.  Isabelle peeked out as they crossed Pulteney Bridge . . . became As they crossed Pulteney Bridge, Isabelle peeked out . . .

Transition Problem:

6.  Thus saving her from any lingering thoughts of Jared, Lord Ashton. [too abrupt end of scene]

Thus distracting her from all-too-frequent thoughts of Jared, Lord Ashton. Thoughts she banished the moment they popped into her mind. Ashton might have the face and figure of a prince straight out of a fairytale but, in truth, he was the Beast, not the Hero.

You are forgetting how the fairytale ends.

Isabelle grimaced. Ashton was in London—where he could stay forever and ever. Beast, indeed!

Grace note:  The above addition to "smoothe out" the transition from one scene to the next will undoubtedly be edited several times again, but hopefully this version will serve as a warning not to end a scene so abruptly that your readers are saying, "Huh?" instead of eagerly moving on to see what happens in the next scene.

Other Simple Fixes:

7.  A simple "Yes?" became "Yes?" Isabelle urged when Ashton paused. [Adding a tag added to the clarity of the dialogue.]

8.  Yet another death white-washed of any hint of violence remained the same but only after I checked the Oxford English Dictionary to see if the expression was used in the Regency. And yes, it is far older than Regency England.]

9.  . . . directly beside the hot springs that had made Bath famous became directly beside the hot springs that spawned a city on the banks of the Avon. [a change made simply because I liked it better) 

Entire paragraph rewrite (more next week):

10.  And how do we know that is not exactly what they are doing? Isabelle demanded of the whisper inside her head that seemed determined to point out that initial impressions might well be flawed. But before she could be caught in a backwash of guilt for her stubborn determination to think the worst of Lord Ashton, she was enveloped in the chatter of the crowd in the Pump Room, settling Lady Blessington at table, while Lady Ashton swept off to begin her customary round of greeting friends and acquaintances, a select group that inevitably included Colonel Everard Sherbrooke.

And how do we know that is not exactly what they are doing? Isabelle demanded of the whisper inside her head that seemed determined to point out that initial impressions might well be flawed. But any twinges of guilt she might have felt over her stubborn determination to think the worst of Lord Ashton were obliterated by the chatter of the crowd in the Pump Room, plunging Isabelle back to their customary routine. She settled Lady Blessington at a table, while Lady Ashton swept off to begin her near-daily round of greeting friends and acquaintances—a select group that inevitably included Colonel Everard Sherbrooke. [original paragraph too run-on, lacking clarity]

~ * ~

This week's featured book:

 

Although it seems likely she is being married for the magnificence of her dowry, Jocelyn Hawley accepts an offer of marriage from a Welshman. And quickly discovers she is as unprepared for marriage as she is for her new family—a mother-in-law who insists on living in Wales' Medieval past and a sister-in-law who seems to be trying to get rid of her. Jocelyn is also plagued by the problem of her husband's mistress and a series of disastrous incidents—some potentially lethal—that dog her footsteps. As she grows more alienated from her husband, who barks at her to "grow up," she finds herself the classic stranger in a strange land. Where it appears someone is trying to kill her.

~ * ~

 

For a link to Blair's website, click here. 

 

Thanks for stopping by,

Grace (Blair Bancroft)