As is often the case, I had other plans for this week’s piece. Then observations and circumstances changed that, and the column began once again writing itself. I don’t watch a whole lot of television at home. I stopped watching news programs because they invariably shatter what remains of my faith in humanity. The sports channels, unless there is a game on, have become nothing more than a platform for washed up former athletes and coaches to give commentary on their view on social issues. Or they are discussing what athletes are either cheating through drug use, or who just signed a contract worth more than the net value of some third world countries just to play a game. Most of the popular shows make me feel like I’m being slowly lobotomized as I watch, and are a reminder of why people in other parts of the world hate us. I don’t even watch the weather anymore because it reminds me of one of the key reasons why I had one of the worst financial years of my career.
So with all of that in mind, generally if the TV is on at my house, it’s more than likely on one of the children’s channels. Disney and Nick Jr. are two of the more popular ones. My kids don’t watch a lot of TV either, but sometimes it’s a necessary evil to buy me time to fold a load of laundry, so don’t be so quick to judge me. I carefully screen each program they watch. This being the big holiday shopping season, many of the commercial spots are now occupied by ads for new toys. This past week, I couldn’t help but notice a somewhat disturbing theme to this year’s popular toys. The theme I speak of is bodily functions.
I know this seems ironic coming from me of all people. It’s been well documented that I appreciate and find entertainment in this particular subject perhaps more than anyone else over the age of 5. I don’t deny for a moment that I can giggle for days over a good fart story so the fact that I’m writing this piece is almost hypocritical. There were 4 different commercials for toys in the span of about 2 days that prompted me to do some research and subsequently write this piece. I spent the better part of late Sunday evening watching YouTube videos about each one so I could learn what each was about, and how to play them.
The first game I researched is called Gooey Louie. For this little gem, Louie’s head sits in the middle of the table. His sinus cavity, which can be opened and refilled between educational games, is filled with a bunch of long, slimy fake boogers. One of them is attached to a trigger in Louie’s skull. The children take turns rolling the die to determine how many nasal nuggets they get to remove in their turn. They pull each snot rocket out one at a time until one unsuspecting impressionable child grabs the one on the trigger. When this one is pulled, Louie’s skull pops open and his spring-loaded brain launches out of his head as do his eyes. It’s like a really, really twisted take on a piñata. I tried to find a hidden educational message here, and the best I could come up with is that it’s teaching our kids not to eat them. What can I say? I’m a glass is half full kind of guy.
My research next lead me to a toy called Pop The Pig. This is a little more innocuous than watching kids remove boogers from a plastic face, but still a little on the warped side. This one has a rather portly and very happy swine dressed in chef’s attire seated in the middle of the table. Again, the future of our species rolls a single die with colors on it this time rather than numbers. Whichever color comes up dictates what color hamburger you are about to force-feed the pig. On the bottom of each burger is a number. The number designates how many times you turn his curly little tail after assaulting his mouth with a fake burger. Eventually the tail twists and the burger filled belly reaches capacity, and the pig’s arms rise up, his suspenders burst, and his stomach explodes. I’m conditioned to try to find something good in everyone and everything, so again I sought a hidden message.
First is that they are thankfully playing this game rather than watching the cranium pudding that is popular American television. Because if they were watching one of the gems like Honey Boo Boo, or Man Versus Food, this game hopefully is sending a message to the children that sheer gluttony leading to morbid obesity is not a healthy practice. Or at least that’s what I took away from it.
The next stop on my study train brought me to an impressive yet troubling product called Baby Alive. Let me first say that the technology utilized for this toy is astounding at the very least. It seems to me though that the skill set of its developers could be better utilized in more lofty and sophisticated facets of society. It is of course a realistic baby doll. There are pouches of powdery substance which are mixed with water to make the food that your child will spoon-feed the faux infant. While consuming this food, the baby continuously blinks, and occasionally even speaks. The baby tells your child when it is thirsty, at which time you switch over to bottle feeding it. The doll will eat and drink its fill and then make the announcement that it has soiled itself. At which time, our real child will change a painfully realistic looking diaper complete with baby wipes to be disposed of upon completion. As I watched the 6 minute video of a little girl go through this whole process with her new toy, I had the same look on my face that a med student would have watching their first autopsy in person. The hidden message here I can only assume is an unconventional effort to squelch the ever growing number of teen pregnancies in our society. Hey, it’s never too early to take preemptive action.
I saved my favorite for last. One of the more popular items on the next generation’s holiday wish list for 2013 is a game called Doggie Doo. A fake wiener dog sits in the center of the table. As each child takes their turn, they feed the dog a predetermined portion of fake food. It actually requires the use of a plunger to force the meal into the dog’s throat. The child once again rolls a die with numbers on it. The number rolled dictates how many tugs on the dog’s leash the child makes after feeding it. The dog even makes different sounds at each stage of the digestive process. As you have surmised by now, eventually the plastic dog will void his bowels. If the child whose turn it is has the fortune of this happening, they use a shovel to scoop up the waste and add it their excrement pile. Whichever future fast food drive-through window attendant has the largest pile of fecal remnants at the end of the game, wins. I have nothing for this one.
Don’t read too much into this column, I’m not on a crusade against certain products, nor am I climbing on my soap box. What it boils down to is that I saw 4 different commercials this week that followed a theme that I thought was funny enough to write about. I hope you enjoyed without taking it too seriously. Nonetheless, shop wisely my friends and happy holidays. Thanks for playing along.
Until next week,
Syd Nichols
