Speaking of TV and college… (and not really about biking)

When I was in college, my roommate and I loved to read Good Housekeeping magazine.   We would cut our afternoon classes and go to the corner store, where we would purchase milk, Freihofer chocolate chip cookies, and the latest issue of GH.  Then we’d rush back to our apartment and settle into our under-furnished, roach-infested living room.  As we devoured cookies and guzzled milk straight from the container, we studied our magazine, learning how to save our marriages, bake tuna casserole, and help our children resolve problems on the school bus.  We did not consider this to be a frivolous waste of time; we were preparing for the future.

We had a plan.  After graduating from college (even though we had cut all of our afternoon classes), we were both going to get married and buy houses in a cozy New England village.  Then we would each have 2 children (a boy and a girl, same ages and same order, of course), and we would happily sit by the fire, watching the snow fall gently on the windows.  And while our toddlers babbled happily in the corner, we would sip our General Foods International coffee.

That was my coffee commercial dream, which, sadly, never came true.  Then again, neither did any of my commercial dreams…

As a child, I had the toy commercial dream, where I have this really cool toy, like a Barbie, and I have some really cool stuff to go with it, like a Dream House and a beauty parlor.  And I have lots of friends, all of whom also have Barbies and her cool accessories, and they all come to my house every day, and bring all of their Barbie stuff, and we play happily together for hours.

I had a Barbie doll, of course, but I was never allowed to get the Dream House because, as my mother said about every really cool toy, “it’s too expensive and it’s crap”.  And although I once had a few friends over to play Barbie, we only did so for about 5 minutes, after which we spent the rest of the afternoon fighting over who broke the Barbie hairdryer.

Of course, I outgrew the Barbie dream, and moved onto the soda commercial dream, which rapidly matured into the beer commercial dream.  These dreams involved doing lots of really cool stuff with lots of really cool people.  Like spending a day at the beach horseback riding, playing volleyball, surfing, and having a clambake.  Or skiing all day, getting all cozy and rosy-cheeked, then sitting around a fire wearing trendy ski sweaters.   And drinking bottle after bottle of soda.  Or beer. 

Responsibly of course.  Always drink responsibly.

But alas, none of my commercial dreams came true – not the toys nor the soda nor the beer nor the coffee.  And now that I’m middle aged, and I watch very little TV and even fewer commercials (thank you TiVo), there are only a few commercial dreams left for me.  There are the 2 nice old ladies playing Bingo and discussing whether they can afford to pay their husbands’ funeral expenses.  There are people who are able to walk on the beach and play with their grandchildren because they take meds with labels like “fast-acting” and “arthritis-strength”.  There are rugged, good-looking men sitting with their wives in side-by-side bathtubs.  (I think I recognize one of those guys from an old beer commercial.)

And my personal favorite… a body in motion stays in motion.  Well, we are going to be in motion.  Non-stop.  For 2200 miles.  Bring on the fast-acting arthritis-strength pain relief!

 

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