One over Zero

I remember that old Clint Black song that went "Ain't in funny how a melody/ Can bring back a memory/ Take you to another place in time/ Completely change your state of mind?"

I've written about this before, elsewhere, but that song "Know it All" by Lagwagon always takes me back to 2006. I graduated school that May, took a trip that July, moved back to my parent's house in August as my lease at my college house ran out, moved to Providence Rhode Island for about two months in October for the company training program, and then moved to Seattle to begin work at the end of November.

I guess it was the first or second Friday that I was there, I found myself up late in my hotel (excuse me, "temporary living"), drinking a can of Bud Light and listening to that Lagwagon song on YouTube. I started thinking about Athens and home and everything that had happened this year already.

It's funny, the things you remember. What seems significant after the fact, and what doesn't. Earlier today I was talking to my dad about the last fishing trip I took in Destin, last August. I said "You know, we got out there, it was really hot, I started feeling sick, hadn't slept much the night before, and was really feeling bad. We weren't catching any fish either. We were about 40 miles out, right around the edge of the continental shelf. And it's funny, I remember being irritated that we weren't catching anything then, I was a little bent out of shape about it. But looking back, I don't remember it for that reason. I was kind of mad at that moment, but even by the next day I didn't really care...."

I tend to remember things more favorably after the fact that I experience them, if that makes sense.

I didn't like my first place in Seattle very much. It was actually in Renton, and I didn't care for the neighborhood. I was so happy that I only signed a six month lease there and was overjoyed at the prospect of moving out. There was so much street noise outside that I spent the last two months or so that I lived there sleeping on my couch. How silly is that? Looking back at it though, I remember how nice it was to come home and build a fire in my fireplace. I remember how the shower had a small window about five feet up the wall that you were supposed to slide open while you bathed, to allow the steam to escape. When I first moved in, I was getting up around 6:30a each morning for work. I remember I'd crack that window open in the shower and feel the frigid January air hitting my wet face. I'd stare out the window at the cars driving down the street, it was still "night" time outside. I'm glad I can remember the place for that and not for the Sunday morning when I lay on my couch, listening to my neighbors screaming at each other, five or six different voices, and wondering if there would be a weapon involved at any point. I'm glad that I remember the Saturday night sushi dinners I used to eat in my dark living room, illuminated only by the fire and the movie on television and not the street bikes that would wake me up in the middle of the night.

I remember laying on that couch, watching the flames flicker in the fireplace and scheming about ways to move back home. I thought about the line from opening of "Lucky Number Sleven" that went "Guy wants what the fellas call a sure thing, so he schemes to make it so." And I thought that I was going to make going back home a "sure thing", because I missed it. I missed what I remembered.

Now, I miss living up there. Not Renton as much as Seattle, the second place I lived. I'm glad that I remember the long walks in the evening and the scenery, not the horrible traffic or passive aggressive mentality of that city. I'm glad I miss the city living, not having to find a place to park on the street when you're exhausted at the end of the day. I'm glad that I miss the fun I had, not the frustration of trying to learn how to do my job.

I'm glad when I listen to "Know it All", I remember 2006 for its ups, and not its downs. There were plenty of the latter. It had to be the most up and down year of my life. But I remember the ups. And of the downs, I appreciate what it took to get through those.

Commercial Liberties Part I

It seems to me that, these days, companies are taking some real liberties with their commercial advertisements. Here are some of the worst offenders.

Part I. Blue Bell Ice Cream

Known for their ultra-cheesy guitar strung song lyrics such as:

I remember our old country home.
The sweet fresh air, the flowers blowing in the breeze, along the path, beside our swimmin' hole.
Momma yelling through the screen,
Would you kids like some home made ice cream?
That was such a simpler time and place...
Blue Bell taste just like the good ol' days...

And more recently

Blue Bell home made ice cream
Is home made country style
The tip of the top
The cream of the crop
Like havin' your own ice cream shop
Blue Bell home made ice cream
Is home made country style
And Blue Bell
Is better by a country smile

The latter song is the "new" one I guess, based on the fact that I hear it several times every time I listen to the Braves on the radio. Among the many problems I have with this commercial:

1. "Home made ice cream"...

Well, no it's not. It's produced in a factory... Well, let me clarify. It's produced in a "Production Facility" (ie, not a home). The following is from the FAQ from Blue Bell's website:

Q: Why do you call yourselves "the Little Creamery in Brenham" if you can make enough ice cream to supply all of these areas?

A: "The Little Creamery in Brenham" is an accurate description of the way our entire company operates using old-fashioned ideals. We make our ice cream the old-fashioned way- using the best ingredients, maintaining close attention to detail, and working at every stage to make sure the ice cream is perfect. We focus strongly on service, both in providing an excellent product at an excellent price, and in working closely with our customers to make sure we are doing all that we can to ensure that they are pleased to have Blue Bell items in their store.

Q: I heard you have two other production facilities, one in Broken Arrow, Oklahoma and one in Sylacauga, Alabama. What do they make there, and where does that ice cream go?

A: The purpose of the two plants is to support the Brenham production facility by providing some products, mostly half gallons, to our northern and southeastern-most distribution areas. The Broken Arrow area includes: Oklahoma, Kansas, Arkansas and Missouri. The Sylacauga area includes: Alabama, Georgia, Florida, Tennessee, Kentucky, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina and South Carolina.


When you read those FAQ answers, even they are full of it. "We make our ice cream the old fashioned way"... The "old fashioned way" involves a hand crank you know... I'd really love to know how many people are sitting around the Production Facility hand cranking an ice cream maker. Wikipedia's entry on Blue Bell (and go ahead and question the veracity, I always do) states that the 580,000 sq ft Production Facility in Brenham Texas uses 60,000 gallons of milk of per day. The facility employs 850 people. If every one of those employs works 24 hours per day making ice cream "the old fashioned way" then over 70 gallons of ice cream would have to be produced per person in order to not waste any milk. On the bright side, that's not quite 3 gallons per person, per hour, but I still have to think that making ice cream "the old fashioned way" probably means labor camp like conditions and extremely sore shoulders. I imagine that there is probably a person banging a drum to keep rhythm like the ship on "Ben Hur".... He probably yells things like "CHILLING SPEED".... and then "CRYSTALLIZATION SPEED...." Either that, or it's not really "home made the old fashioned way", but rather mass produced, just like you'd expect from a self termed "Production Facility" that occupies over 13 acres of land.

2. Home made [sic] country style:

What does this even mean? Which feature of the mass production of Blue Bell Ice Cream makes it "country style"? This is one thing that is particularly galling to me... the use of an adjective to conjure an image itself, rather to accurately describe the noun. Take that "Alabama" song which has a line that reads "Make a little lovin/ little turtle dovin/ on a Mason-Dixon night." If I'm reading that right, the love filled evening could best be described as "an invisible line that separates Pennsylvania and Delaware from Maryland and West Virginia"?! Boy I tell ya, today was one tough 38th parallel Monday.... Of course there really is no such thing as "country style", otherwise I'm sure the song or other advertisements would define "country style" in some way.... I mean, "Country Fried" is a certain way of preparing beef, I get that, but there's no such thing as "country style" ice cream, especially if it's mass produced, and now we're back to point one. This morning I made some coffee "30309 style"... See how silly that is?

3. The whole premise of the song.

I could see, I guess, writing a song about ice cream itself, especially if you were trying to appeal to a group of first graders. But who would write a song about a BRAND of a ice cream? It's not a diddy like "By Mennan...." or something to that effect, it's supposed to sound like a country song about Blue Bell Ice Cream. Can you imagine some polka band sitting down to write a song about Sargento cheese? It's the same thing.

4. Lack of respect.

The is what bothers me the most, not only about Blue Bell, but some of the other ones I plan to write about too. The Blue Bell commercial that's playing now, the diddy about "home made country style" ice cream... I think that it almost assumes a level of compete idiocy on the part of the listener if he's going to do anything other than roll his eyes and later write a blog about it. Whenever I hear that, or any other Blue Bell commercial, I have to think "They must not take me for too much...."

Or maybe they do. Maybe their goal is to make commercials so cheesy and bad that I'll talk about it later and "any buzz is good buzz." Well, not this time. I hearby pledge that I will never buy Blue Bell Ice Cream for the rest of my life.

I'm boycotting you country style.


Next up. Part II -- Wendy's.