Hi, I’m Rob Lowe


I get really tired of commercials that are repeated over and over again until your head aches.  At first, they are interesting and often humorous and then they just become tedious.  There are always several in this category at any given time – are your ears burning AFLAC, GEICO and Nationwide? – but the one that I currently dislike is the one for Direct TV with Rob Lowe and altered Rob Lowe.  (I have nothing against Rob Lowe, just the repetition.)  Here’s a suggestion for the next version in this endless progression:

“Hi, I’m Rob Lowe and I advertise everything.”


“And I’m Black Death Rob Lowe and I advertise, well, you know…”



“As Rob Lowe, I have a fantastic smile.”







“As Black Death Rob Lowe, so do I.”



“I’m known for my fantastic body so I dress like this.                                                   I say to women ‘Do you want to see my fantastic bod?’”








“I only have a skeleton so I dress like this.                                                                       I say to women ‘Do you want to see my scythe?’”



“I occasionally indulge but I normally eat healthy.”


“I normally eat people.”



“As Rob Lowe, crowds are attracted to me.”


“As Black Death Rob Lowe, crowds avoid me like the black plague.                     Get it, get it?  Avoid me like the black plague?”



So don’t be like any of these Rob Lowe’s, stop these damned boring, inane, repetitive, nonsensical commercials!!


What do you REALLY want?

We start our lives full of innocence and without pretensions.  Along the way, we start gathering aspirations – some small, others  grandiose – the ones that our parents or guidance counselor or life coach dream up for us so that we will, like Pavlovian dogs, salivate at the mere mention of them.

Of course we want to grow up to be all-star athletes or beauty queens or Phi Beta Kappa Rhodes Scholars or dot.com billionaires or rock star/athlete/movie celebrities with our own yacht and castle and gold Bentley.  Of course we want to write the next great novel.  Of course we want our children to grow up to be doctors or lawyers or CEO’s of Fortune 500 companies.

And we want to win the lottery.  And we want world peace, an end to hunger, weight loss without exercise…

But let’s get real here, folks.

What do you really want to achieve in this life?  I mean, really?!  When I started life, I had delusions of grandeur.  Now, in old age, I have delusions of adequacy.  I started life wanting to be a teenage Nobel prize-winning PhD Physicist.  Given the changes in my life, I’ll now accept unsoiled underwear as a major achievement.

So, what do I want?

  • I want to be an underachiever.
  • I want to be an Oscar-Meyer wiener.
  • I want to jam radio-free Europe in my Maiden-form bra.
  • I want to watch television for an entire week without, even once, seeing a commercial for vaginal yeast infections, erectile dysfunction or colostomy bags.
  • I want to fire Donald Trump.
  • I want the person who gives me the finger and cuts across my lane in traffic and nearly causes me to spin out and crash to end up being pulled over and ticketed by a state trooper so that I can give him the finger as I breeze on by at required speed.
  • I want the person whose dog always poops in my yard to receive a UPS package every day for a month with dog poop enclosed.
  • I want to live without hemorrhoids, heartburn or the heartbreak of psoriasis.
  • I want the sneering, smart-ass person who takes the last seat on the subway and won’t relinquish it to an old, doddering lady to be forced to fly from New York to Pretoria non-stop with the restrooms always occupied after being force-fed a diuretic (a really BIG diuretic).
  • I want a vitamin supplement that tastes like bourbon.
  • I want to have a day where I can answer every single question posed to me with the clarity, assurance and calm confidence of a Christian holding four aces at a poker table.
  • I want Rush Limbaugh to get laryngitis.
  • I want to see the Great Wall of China, the Taj Mahal, Petra, the Pyramids, Hagia Sofia and still be home in time for a dinner of shrimp and grits.
  • I do not want to be called old: I want to be called “certified pre-owned.”
  • I want a creamsicle.  A real creamsicle with a vanilla inside and an orange sherbet outside and not those fake ones without sugar or with some sort of ice cream substitute that tastes like cardboard.
  • I want to be part of a world where a chicken can cross a road without being questioned as to his intentions.

Waht do you want1

  • I want to see Paris once more.  (The REAL Paris, not Paris Hilton).
  • I want to break even.


So, what do YOU want?