Take a deep breath

What ever happened to halitosis?

Back in the Stone Age days of television undoubtedly one of the worse maladies to plague mankind was halitosis. We the viewers were inundated with ads and guilt feelings about our bad breath. Sales of breath mints and sprays and gargles went through the roof.

On every street corner you could witness people who were waiting for a light change testing their breath by blowing into their open hand. Others simply avoided one another for fear of committing the social sin of insulting another human being with an odor emitting from their mouth that would rival one found at the garbage dump.

Before kissing participants first hugged so they could surreptitiously spray themselves with a breath freshener. Chewing gum sales soared, as did the sales of Sen-Sen, those strong tasting tiny pieces of black licorice candy marketed as breath perfume.

I can't help but surmise that science has conquered the ravages of halitosis since little advertising budget is directed any longer toward its treatment. After all when was the last time you saw a Super Bowl commercial challenging you to ask your doctor if a product like Sen-Sen "was right for you?"

No, today the social ills are leaky bladders and other organs that do not perform as well as they did when we were young. It seems that we no sooner overcome one body malfunction when another is waiting off stage to take its place. And now that "babies living today" can expect to live to be 100 just what medical malady will the ads of the future focus on?

We can't have everything

Commenting on my reference a couple weeks ago of wanting Medicare provided bathtubs in my backyard a reader remarked, "The bathtub commercial is funny; just where a guy wants to be after taking the 4-day pill. I love the silly lovey-dovey smiles the women always give their guy. I don't think (my wife) has ever given me that look in 51 years."

Browsing through the supermarket

A casual trip through a supermarket is always good for at least one snippet.

One of my all time favorite store bought cookies is the Little Debbie Oatmeal Crème Pies. Although since they put a strain on my saturated fats budget I do exercise restraint on their consumption. Still I have an argument over them with myself each time I shop.

The Oatmeal Crème Pie, the first of the Little Debbie line of products, was introduced in 1960. And I think I contributed to the company's success.

Anyway on my latest trip to supermarket I discovered Little Debbie P.B. and J. Oatmeal Pies. It's the same cookie with the crème replaced with peanut butter and jelly. The fact that they were introduced 21 years ago has nothing to do with their newness to me so I had to have them. They were good but nothing replaces my crème filled cookies.

What happened?

I don't know if I'm the only person with this problem, but I cannot remember any of those "must-see" cliffhanging season finales of TV series. I tune in to the series premiers and haven't got a clue as to what I was suppose to spend the summer discussing with the guys down at the pub. In fact, because of the loss of a decent TV guide I'm not even sure when the new season begins.

The way technology is going today I would think that if the producers wanted me to watch their shows they would send me an e-mail reminding me when the season's premier is being aired and the fact that at the close of last season's show someone mysteriously shot J. R. and if I watched tonight I would find out who did it. Or not.

Overheard

Overheard at the checkout counter: We indulge ourselves just once a month. It's just that our month is shorter than normal.