Thursday, February 08, 2007

A New Ending for a Commercial

I've imagined new endings for ads before. It's a terrible habit, but it passes the time.

Anyway, the commercial is one in a series of ads for a jewelry chain that's hated by all TV viewers (Here's a hint: "every kiss begins" with its accursed name.). This ad is set in a restaurant, and an elderly black couple is playfully speculating about the various romantic conversations at nearby tables. They chuckle and shake their heads knowingly. The old man is concealing something under the table.

We find out it's a jewelry box, of course. But in my mind, the commercial has a different ending:

She says, "I love you, Pumpkin." And he says, "I love you, Honey Bunny." Then he pulls his hand out from under the table, revealing a gun, and shouts, "Everybody be cool, this is a robbery!"

Then the elderly woman starts promising to execute every fucking prick that moves. And I am smiling, because that would be a really good commercial. I would never fast-forward through that one.

4 comments:

norm said...

Yeah...
That would be cool.
I've never understood how a company can get away with telling all their customers that love is a material transaction where all women are hookers and all men are johns.

Ellen said...

I cannot stand that jewelry commercial. I also cannot stand all this hoopla about Valentine's Day. The last thing I need is a diamond pendant. It's all about the guy giving something to a girl. Or maybe I'm thinking of the Valtrex commercial.
P.S. We're leaving L.A.!!

Michael Markowitz said...

Ellen, the Valtrex line made me laugh. Then the fact that you're leaving L.A. made me sad.

As for Kay, the most repulsive ad of all is that one in the Roman piazza, where the woman is mortified by her husband's profession of love... but moved to tears by the diamonds he gives her.

The difference between this woman and a hooker is that hookers only take cash, god bless 'em. They don't accept things that children lose their arms for. They don't help fund Al Qaeda. The difference between a diamond-hungry woman and a hooker is, apparently, a conscience.

If you ever get a chance, read up on the history of diamonds, which is also the history of De Beers. They controlled 95% of the world's diamonds in the last century, and about 70% today.

Until De Beers started aggressive marketing in the 30's and 40's, ("A Diamond is Forever") engagement rings didn't have diamonds. De Beers not only invented the diamond engagement ring, they set the arbitrary (and unforgivably greedy) rule that spending two months salary is the only way to get a woman to marry you.

Used to be, when a relative died you sold their diamond jewelry for cash... Then De Beers started pushing the idea of diamonds as heirlooms to be passed from generation to generation. In other words, they brainwashed consumers into keeping literally millions of diamonds off the market forever, keeping the price high. Fiendish.

I have known many women who throw up their hands with helplessness and confusion if you ask them to program a VCR or do a web search. But the moment someone walks in with a diamond ring, every one of these women becomes a master gemologist, versed in cut, color, whether the clarity is F1 or IF... I'm surprised they don't carry loupes in their purses.

Once, in an office where I worked, I saw a woman walk in with an engagement ring and all the women rushed over, cooing and screaming and gushing. One woman literally dropped the phone that was in her hand. Dropped it and was gone before it hit the floor. It scars me to this day as the most nauseating thing I've ever seen.

Ellen said...

Oh, man I hate everything that diamonds stand for. Thanks for the (no pun intended) illuminating background info.
Years ago, I was sitting with a group of women whose kids were in the same toddler group. One of the discussions one day was what setting to get for their diamonds! I was aghast.
At the gentle urging of Mr. M, I finally got my ham license. It was tough because all of the radio tech info was a little dense, but in times of emergency, being a ham is a good thing. So I studied like crazy and passed, with a perfect score! H got me a cute little HT (handie-talkie) and that was sweeter than any tennis bracelet. What the hell is that anyway? I have no clue.
Yes, that office story is quite nauseating and sad.