My Little Wheaty Friend

I don't like TV commercials as a rule, in fact, as a rule, I hate their guts, and I've told you so several times right here in this very blog. So when I do see one that strikes my fancy, I'm all warm inside.

There's one I saw last night for the first time. It was, may I just say, a great commercial, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to give its writers only 9 out of 10, because it was so good and I spent so much time enjoying it, I couldn't possibly tell you the product it was advertising. See, I guess there actually is such a thing as "too good."

It was for a beer, I can tell you that much. Which was a surprise, because the world of beer commercials is generally a very nasty place indeed, but this one made me laugh right out loud in my living room. It starts with a voiceover saying, "I knew it was a bad idea to invite my new roommate to dinner with us." Turns out, this voice guy's roommate is some sort of African Tribesman, wearing only a loincloth and the dinner jacket the restaurant has (I guess) provided, and he does things like jump into the aquarium to catch a fish with his bare hands, paint his entire face with a woman's lipstick, pop an arrow into a woman's back, and throw a knife at a waiter. And yes, it may have been influenced by, if not stolen outright from, the Monty Python skit where the English explorers have dinner in the jungle (Mr SpareButtonsSuppliedWithHisShirt), but I liked it.

There are a couple of other commercials out there on the old TeeVee, and while they're not funny nor clever nor wacky, nor anything really, I always get that same warm feeling when I see them. They're for Frosted Mini-Wheats.

I once had a torrid love affair with Frosted Mini-Wheats. I'm not big on cereals, not since childhood anyway, and since I hate milk, a cereal has to be really special for me to eat it. It has to be good right out of the box, and by damn, Frosted Mini-Wheats are that very thing. You can just open the box and start chewing, and happiness comes only a short time later. You must understand, though, that this is coming from the girl who as a child ate Shredded Wheat with no milk or sugar on it, proving that I must be in some way related to the horse or cow family, but cut that Shredded Wheat down into little squares and slather it with frosting, and you have a cereal fit for a king, I say.

A while back, though, Frosted Mini-Wheats and I broke up, but it was amicable, and I still remember only the good times.

So imagine my warm fuzzy memories when I started seeing the first of the Mini-Wheats commercials. It, on the logical side, is a horrible commercial. It's a little girl at a spelling bee, and she's given the word "aardvark" to spell. She begins, "A....R....," and that right there is what makes it a horrible commercial, because we all know that in the world of the spelling bee, the first wrong letter you give, it's sit-down time for you. Right to the audience to pout and watch someone else win.

But in this commercial, after the, "A....R.....," up on the little girl's microphone sits - a Frosted Mini-Wheat! And he gives her some spelling words of wisdom, and she corrects herself and spells "aardvark" correctly and is oh-so-happy, even though in reality it would have made no difference and she'd be in Pouters' Corner, and we learn that, well, we learn nothing, really. We don't learn that Frosted Mini-Wheats make you smarter, because she began the word incorrectly, and we don't learn that they make you remember your spelling rules, because she had to be prompted by a little Mini-Wheat right there on her microphone.

I guess what we do learn is just how damn cute a Frosted Mini-Wheat is. Because this little guy that pops up on her microphone, a Mini-Wheat with cartoon eyes and mouth and little stick-figure arms and legs, is just about the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.

Now there's a new commercial out for Strawberry Frosted Mini-Wheats, a proposition that almost makes me want to forget the "all that sugar and wheat will make me blow up like the Hindenburg and pass out in a puddle of my own sweat" rule and run right out and get a box. I mean, Strawberry Frosted Mini-Wheats. I could just die. And probably would if I ate one, for surely if I ate one I'd have to eat the whole box. But what a way to go, really.

The new commercial features a little girl at ballet class, and I don't even know what her problem is, maybe she can't remember her routine, and out to the rescue comes Mr Frosted Mini-Wheat, and he helps her through her lesson. Proving, of course, that Frosted Mini-Wheats don't make you talented, nor will they help you remember your seven basic ballet positions, but that it's sure fun to have a cute little Mini-Wheat there dancing around with you.

And I've got to tell you, folks, that right there is enough for me. Because in this commercial, our Mini-Wheat dances ballet all over the place and makes me wish our torrid love affair was still going on. And he's strawberry now to boot.

I want me a little Frosted Mini-Wheat. Imagine the fun we could have. I'd be sitting there with Mr M playing clarinets, whining that the tempo's too fast, or that the music's in 9/8 time. And up on my music stand would pop Mr Mini-Wheat, Frosty, I'd call him since we were such good buddies, and he'd say, "Remember, 9/8 time is just the same as 3/4 time!" And of course, I'd say, "It is not! Mr M tells me that every time and it hasn't worked yet!" And undeterred, Frosty would say, "Well, OK, then. I'll just count the nine beats for you so you don't have to do it yourself and can concentrate on the notes." And I'd play beautifully, beautifully enough to bring tears to Mr M's eyes.

And then we'd drive back to my house, where my Frosted Mini-Wheat would dance a jig on the dashboard while I played a Hackensaw Boys CD, and when we got to my house he'd remind me that Sunday night is Garbage Night, not to forget the wastepaper baskets in the bedroom and dennette, and then he'd remind me to drink my protein drinks, and on Friday Chill Nights he could even help me hoist olives into my martini and sit on the arm of the Comfy Chair while we watched a movie together.

And if he was a Strawberry Frosted Mini-Wheat, though it would be hard, I would try and resist the urge to eat him. Or does he want that? After all, he is part cartoon, if I eat him and enjoy his strawberry crunchy wheaty goodness, would he just pop back up at another time to be my friend?

That's the theory I'm going with. After all, what's the fun of having an imaginary cereal friend if you can't eat him, then have him live to play again?

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners! So, what did you say when you got pulled over for speeding?
- Honorable Mention goes to the lovely, the vivacious, the very sbk, with her "Testing Velocity-Driven Yankee Racing Order." I don't know, it just sounded really intelligent for some reason.
- Runner-Up goes to Kellie (with an ie) with her, "Took Vicadin. Drove Yelling 'Round Orlando." As I'm sure she actually has.
- And this week's winner goes to the dishy Michelle, with her, "Try vrooming, damn you! Rude officer." I've tried vrooming. It's fun, but I don't do it anymore, since I was pulled over for speeding.
-Thanks to all who played! You've all done very well!