My wife just bought a new hairdryer. It’s about time; the cord on her old dryer is twisted up like a phone cord. The marketing blurbs on the box for this dryer are cracking me up.

These terms and phrases are exactly as they appear on the box:

“Elegant Amethyst Finish” – It’s a shiny purple color.

“super quietTM“ – They trademarked this?

“fast dryTM“ – They trademarked this?

“Lightweight” – Why did they capitalize the first letter of this, but not “super quiet” and “fast dry” — this doesn’t start a sentence, it’s just a term on the box. Why is this one word. Why did they not trademark this? I mean, if “super quiet” and “fast dry” can be trademarked, why not “Lightweight”? It even has a unique spelling to differentiate it from “light weight”.

“Helps dry hair fast while retaining moisture and reducing ‘frizz’” – Doesn’t retaining moisture mean your hair is not dry?

I’ve written marketing copy in my career, but I really hope I’ve never written anything as silly as this.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

Yeah, I know, I’m late to the Deadwood party. I had heard about this HBO series back when it was airing, but since I didn’t have HBO, I just put it out of my mind. But it’s been out on DVD for a while now, so it’s about time I actually check it out.

Many years ago, I did a great deal of study on the American “Wild West”—I was a big fan of the time, the territory, and the people. I even wrote a role playing game based on it all. Because of my knowledge of the real Old West, I’m often disappointed by many Western genre movies and TV shows, especially if they are based on real people or events. (I have the same situation with World War II genre movies and TV shows.)

Deadwood, Dakota Territory (now South Dakota) was a real gold rush boom town of the 1870s, and I’ve read some about it and its notable “citizens,” including Wild Bill Hickok. So I approached this series somewhat apprehensively. I’d either love it or hate it. Hollywood’s track record for showing real historical characters did not make me excited for the prospect of loving it.

But I was surprised. I love this show. I remember just enough about the time, place, people, and circumstances Deadwood presents that I get a little giddy when I recognize a name or event. Now, I have no illusions that this series is anything like an accurate historical documentary. I understand the details are probably 90% fiction. But still, there’re just enough nods to the real history and people to make someone like me excited. Even the characters I don’t recognize fit in so well that I want to look up the old books and see if I can find reference to them.

So far, I’ve only watched the first two episodes, one hour each, of the first season. (Each DVD has just two episodes.) A plot item that has me really interested is one that has only vaguely been hinted at so far—and the vague hints are probably only noticeable to someone with knowledge of the character and the town.

Wild Bill Hickok is one of my favorite characters of the Old West; he was a legend in his own time, head and shoulders above the other legends of the Old West, and he understood it. His presence in Deadwood, and the presence of the man named Jack [McCall] at his poker table has built a suspense that has me watching every nuance of their interchange. If this show is following the true history of Hickok in Deadwood, I know exactly what will happen and how it will happen. I’m just on pins and needles waiting, sadly, for it to happen. I actually don’t want it to happen, as if it not happening in this TV series will change anything about the real history. But then again, if it does not happen, I think the show will loose my interest, because it will be departing from the little historical ties that have bound my interest to the show.

In movies, a bomb exploding at the table is surprise, but showing the bomb under the table several times before it explodes is suspense. This Deadwood plot item can be both surprise and suspense, depending on the viewer’s knowledge of the characters and time. Those who don’t know the characters’ histories will be surprised; those who do know the characters’ histories watch this in suspense. That’s an interesting position for a filmmaker. The writers and directors of Deadwood seem to be trying for suspense by showing little hints of the plot, but I wonder if anyone other than those in the historical know actually pick up on those hints. I mean, the real historical outcome of this plot point defies the standard Hollywood style.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

We went for a family walk this afternoon around a nearby lake. I had already taken my daily exercise walk, so this was a bonus. We’ve walked around other lakes in our area, and they all have paved walkways, and are pretty flat. This was our first time exploring this particular lake’s walkway, and it turned out to be quite different.

The walkway is only paved maybe ten percent of its length, and the rest is dirt trail up and down sometimes fairly steep terrain. You have to keep your eyes on the ground watching your steps among all the roots and rocks. And the trek must be about 20 miles.

Well, okay, maybe it was only 2 or 3 miles. Actually, I usually don’t mind a good hike through non-paved terrain; I often enjoy it. But having to do it with an eye on two young boys, a wife, my own footing, and those sneaky joggers and bikers who don’t call out their approach in the twisting and turning and narrow path makes it extra tiring—I only have two eyes. We weren’t prepared for as long a trek as it turned out to be. We hadn’t brought our water bottles with us from the van—we won’t make that mistake again.

After about three-quarters of the way, I ended up carrying the boys on my shoulders (one at a time) to give them a rest and still keep up our pace. Unfortunately, neither of the boys like riding up on my shoulders. They were both kind of scared, and wanted to hold my hands while they were up there. Try walking up and down hills, across roots and rocks, with 30 or 60 pounds on your shoulders, and holding your hands above your head—it ain’t easy.

When it got to the point that neither of the boys wanted to ride on my shoulders, and they obviously couldn’t keep up any pace, my wife stopped with them so they could rest. I walked on to get the van, and then came back and picked them up where the trail crossed a road.

All told, it was a good walk. The boys did surprisingly well, considering the distance and terrain, and no one complained. Well, I think I complained a time or two. (Really, it turned out much longer than I expected.) We’ll have to do that walk again sometime —but maybe not in the hottest part of the day, in July.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com

I was pulling up to the McDonald’s drive through to order some lunch when I had the urge to try a Big Mac. In all the times I’ve been to McDonalds—how many hundreds of times in 40 years—I’ve never had a Big Mac.

The picture on the menu board looked good, and I was really hungry. But what comes on the Big Mac? I don’t like tomatoes or pickles on my burgers, but asking the ingredients of a sandwich at the drive through box can be aggravating, and unproductive.

But then that jingle popped into my head:

Two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, on a sesame seed bun.

When was the last time I heard that? 20 years ago? Longer? Now that is a good jingle. “Good” meaning it works for the advertiser—it stuck in my mind for a couple decades, and came to my thoughts right when I needed it.

Anyway, I ordered the Big Mac, minus the pickles. It’s a good sandwich. Really good. But it’s big, and fatty, and probably shortened my life expectancy by nine months. I probably won’t eat another one because of how bad it is for me, but it tasted great. Especially that special sauce.

And now I can’t get that damn jingle out of my head.

Bullgrit
bullgrit@totalbullgrit.com