My olfactory alarm clock went off right on time. I awoke, at
five am, to the smell of coffee brewing six feet away from my sleepy head. If
you’re wondering what an olfactory alarm clock is, it’s exactly what it smells
like: an alarm clock that wakes you up with various scents. Yes, they are real
and yes, I am better than you.
I arose and showered. I had already set my clothes out the
previous night; I knew it was going to be a cold day and that I was going to be
outside for most of it, so I coordinated my attire to suit the anticipated
environment. I like setting my clothes and stuff out ahead of time. I dunno, it
makes me feel like a spy, or an action hero, gearing up before going out on a
mission. Makes me feel like I got my shit together and I’m ready for whatever
comes next (unless it’s the Blob. I got no idea how to fight blobs, is it with
sodium or something?).
I hopped in my car. His name is BOB. Bob the car. I had
accidentally left my windows down during a major thunderstorm two nights
prior*. I was still dealing with the liquid aftermath the morning of my expected
two-hour drive. The mixture of a cold and wet seat kept me alert for the entire
trip out to the heart of “I ride a horse to school when the tractor is out of
gas” county, Virginia. On this day, I was going to be in a commercial.
Now Josh, you’re thinking to yourself through the haze of
the everyday monotony that has consumed your life, how the hell did you get
involved in a commercial, what is it for and can I have your autograph?
To which I say, “please, hold all questions till the end of
the presentation.”
The content of the commercial was not the usual fare. It was
neither for a good, or a service. That kinda cuts out a lot of things. Which
makes the guessing what it was for that much harder. I mean, when you picture
me**, in a commercial, you figure it must be for some kind of “after” photo for
6-minute abs workout program. Or perhaps I’m offering elocution lessons. Maybe
I’m finally doing that cook book everybody’s been dying for. Or, (if you’re
nasty) I’m offering my talents as a world-class, lothario, gigolo and
rapscallion.
Bu nay, says I! T’was
a commercial of a Political Nature!
What’s this, you say? Josh, mired in the quagmire of
political intrigue, debauchery and behind-the scenes-wheeling-and-dealing and
palm-greasing that is the American system of governing? How can this be?
Although you live within the Beltway, you are not a creature of the political
world! You don’t have a bureaucratic bone in your body! You’re not even
registered to vote! What makes you qualified to be in a commercial that could
change the political landscape and form the very basis of bill and lawmaking in
this country for generations to come?
To which I say, “see footnote #2.”
What’s even more interesting is the nature of this ad. The
ad has to do with the amount of assault weapons in the United States. Are there
too many? Not enough? Are they being used properly, or improperly? Where can
one buy such a weapon at two on a Saturday morning? (I’m totally asking for a
friend.)
My involvement being featured in the commercial was also
what makes it a little impetuous in its execution. See, I’m a vet. As in, a
veteran of WAR!!!, not somebody who injects themselves with horse
tranquilizers on a regular basis, (although I do that as well) while cutting
off dog balls, (wait a minute, I do that too! I just don’t get paid for it. But
that’s another story.) And therefore, as a vet, (and certified fucking American
Hero, which will be on my tombstone) my appearance in a political ad about the
second amendment could be deemed controversial or biased. While shooting (the
commercial, not guns) that day, everybody from the camera people, to the
director, to craft services, to the cute chick with the deep eyes, asked me if
I felt comfortable if I were to become the face of the statement this ad was
making. Did it fit into my personal views and philosophies?
To which I replied, “the paycheck fits into my bank
account!”
The day of shooting was indeed long and cold and I had to
repeat the same lines multiple times until those were the only words I was able
to remember at the end of the day, and I had to read Hop on Pop to
regain my vocabulary. I don’t know if this ad will ever see the light of day. I
don’t know where it’ll be shown, or whose campaign it would be for, or even who
the client is, (which can only mean one thing: the Free Masons have teamed up
with the Illuminati and the Bronies to control us!). But all in all, it was
fun, I’m not the worst in front of a camera. And I managed to stuff my pockets
full of snacks from craft services.
What more can you ask for? I’ll see you at the unveiling of
my star on the Walk of Fame.
*I save money on car washes, both inside and out, with
the natural water-power of rain. I’m a genius.
**I’m Josh.
No comments:
Post a Comment