If Christmas is the Hallmark Channel's Superbowl, then the Superbowl is Advertising's Christmas. Somehow, the ads for the big game have become as big a story- maybe even a bigger story- than the sporting event it sponsors. NFL Network even has a "Best Superbowl Ads Ever" show.
Personally, I think the absolute worst thing about attending game parties is being unable to escape the ads and the inevitable conversations created by the ads. As the years have moved along, I've noticed that more and more the casual chitchat is reserved for the time the players are on the field and is halted during the commercials. I guess it was inevitable that a mere football game being played between two teams not supported by at least 90 percent of viewers would take a back seat to advertisements (not to mention an only slightly truncated concert tucked in between the 2nd and 3rd quarters.)
As it turns out, I won't be attending a Superbowl party for the first time since the Plague of 2020/21, which means I'll be watching with a remote in my hand ready to hit MUTE when the actual game is not on the screen. Hey, I'm a curmudgeon, remember?
Oh, I guess I should say a few things about this ad for everyone's favorite pile of junk, Jeep. Well, let's see...the premise is that we've got a little kid obsessed with silly purchase made by his father when dad was hung over and watching late-night TV back in the 80s (maybe it was grandpa?) The little kid's mom is pregnant for no reason (unless something else happens in the final ten seconds involving her, I don't know, I stopped watching after "I can see my wires" because by then it had crossed the line into Beaten To Death Joke and I was done.) We know for sure she's pregnant because she's got her arm resting on her stomach like All Pregnant Women in TV ads do.
For some reason the kid really, really wants to take an obvious piece of plastic to the river, and for some reason dad is willing to drive the kid and the stupid piece of plastic what seems like many, many miles to find a suitable river to put it in. All of this is in service of driving the family's much, much bigger dumb purchase, with it's panoramic sunroof and apparent ability to hit a pothole and get wet without needing servicing (is Jeep upping it's game?)
The kid puts the piece of plastic in the river and I guess it's a Magic Fish but not the good kind that grants wishes, just the kind that is grateful for five seconds and then accusatory when it finds out that freedom is not all it's cracked up to be. I have no idea why that bear continues to eat the fish when it's clear it's plastic. I have no idea why this stupid plastic fish has so many wires. I have no idea why the dad is trying to defend himself to it. It's a plastic fish that doesn't even grant wishes.
All I see here is the overindulgence of a creepy little boy who needs therapy and friends by a father who thinks that there's something environmentally sane about driving a brand-new piece of garbage to a remote area to toss a fifty-year old piece of garbage into a river.
What am I missing? Oh, don't bother- I'm sure I'll be told in the breakroom, or by several of my classes, tomorrow.
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