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  • Here, Have A Sanka™…

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    I’m old enough to remember Young.

    Robert Young, that is…

    Father Knows Best…

    Marcus Welby, MD…

    Ring a bell?

    Well, I’m sure it does with most of you. If it doesn’t, then just pretend. It doesn’t matter all that much  since I’m going to explain the connection anyway.

    You see, in addition to Doc Welby and the like, Robert Young also did the Sanka™ commercials. Decaffeinated Coffee – Oh boy…

    Now, as an aside here, I have to say that Decaffeinated coffee is an extremely vile thing. It’s also an oxymoron of mammoth proportions. It’s akin to de-opiated heroin, or non-toxic rat poison. It just doesn’t make sense… But, you know, digressing and all…

    So, the commercials would always start with someone going off the deep end.  Something on the order of the following: Mary would be slicing veggies for the cucumber & watercress finger sandwiches she was going to serve to her bridge club with afternoon coffee – because back then all women stayed home, vacuumed the floor and washed the windows while wearing cotton dresses and high heels, and then had plenty of time for a visit to the beauty salon and do the grocery shopping. Then they would have afternoon bridge club with the other similarly attired moms from the neighborhood. It was a different sort of time…  A time when dress wearing moms sold Tupperware in their living rooms and men wore polyester leisure suits. Anywho… Mary would break a nail, or spill some milk, or slice the cucumber too thick, or something equally as minor, whereupon she would start screaming, run through the house, and stab all of the other Afternoon Bridge Party MILFs to death with the butcher knife she had been using for the sandwiches.

    Okay, so maybe not THAT drastic… But, there would generally be some sort of overreaction to a minor issue. And, that reaction was always Robert “Doc Welby” Young’s cue to step forward from the background. In a concerned, trusted, fatherly tone he would say, “Mary… Why so tense?”

    I know. Perfect opening for a soft porn flick, eh? Well, except that porn usually has less plot than a Sanka™ commercial…

    Moving right along… At this point, Mary would unload on the guy who played a doctor on TV. He would listen, nod, then diagnose “Mary” with caffeine overload and immediately prescribe Sanka™ instead of regular coffee. Of course, as usually happens in the perfect world of commercials, Mary was instantly cured, turning once again into a happy, airheaded, suburban MILF in pink pumps, with perfect hair, a clean house, and a serving tray specially designed to display Sanka™ – cans AND jars – for everyone to see.

    It was all very Stepford Wives-ish if you ask me.

    Of course, there were other versions… “Joe… Why so tense?”… “Enrico… Why so tense?” …. “Aunt Bee… Why so tense?”… You get the idea. My version was a lot more fun though.

    And so, why am I even bringing up Sanka™?

    Easy. Because even though E K can’t stand coffee, I told her the other day she needed some.

    Sanka™ that is, not regular coffee. E K on two Coca-Colas a day is bad enough. Sure don’t want any more caffeine in the mix.

    At any rate, the reason I did so is that we were talking about dinner arrangements we were making with some friends. She mentioned that it had to be on a weekend because one of said friends didn’t like going out on weeknights. The conversation that ensued went something like this –

    Me: Good, I don’t either.

    EK: Why? It’s not like you have to be anywhere the next day. You work from home. It’s not like you have to go to the Bad Place.

    Me: Because weekdays are my quiet time.

    EK: How so?

    Me: You and the o-spring are gone and I have my house to myself.

    EK: So?

    Me: Why would I want to go out and deal with people on my quiet days?

    EK: So you’re really saying you just don’t like going out.

    Me: Have a Sanka™. I’m just kidding.

    EK: (SiGh) You’re ALWAYS kidding these days.

    Me: Because I’m happy. I don’t have to go to the Bad Place anymore.

    The first thing that really struck me is that she didn’t immediately beat me to death for calling it “my house.” I’m sure punishment will ensue at some point.

    The second thing that struck me was the truth behind what I’d said. I’ve been relatively happy for a handful of years now, and a good portion of why is the fact that I don’t have to go to the Bad Place anymore.

    Allow me to explain…

    More to come…

    Murv

    To Be Continued in:  The Bad Place…

    • You defined success, Murv. You are happy with what you do.

      • I think you are correct on that… but just wait until you read about my daring escape from “The Bad Place”…

        Well… The escape wasn’t really all that daring. Pretty anticlimactic in reality… I didn’t get to go postal or anything. But, the situation at that place was so horrid it was almost comical in a sense… Or, I hope I can portray it as such. Still ruminating on how to go about writing the next installment without it just being a rant…

        Speaking of which, “Rants” are on deck as a blog topic in the near future… Not “A” rant, mind you, an observation of the “rant culture” that has begun to infect society as a whole… 😉

    • My Grandma and Uncle still drink Sanka. Uggh. I don’t understand how they can stand it. Also to show you how instant that crap is, they boil water and dissolve the coffee in their cups.

    • How is it your suggestion that EK needs ANY form of coffee didnt earn you a trip to the dungeon? I’m surprised you still have enough un-injured fingers to type…

    • I wanted to escape from the Bad Place so much that I quit and went to Medical School.

      Now I have a new Bad Place – several of them, actually – that I wish I didn’t have to go to. As much as I love being a doctor and love medicine…. the crap shit that goes with it just makes every place a Bad Place.

      Lucky you.

    • I really don’t want to go to the BAD PLACE any more… But unfortunately unless something drastic happens and it starts raining cash i do not see it happening. I love what I do as a massage therapist but how much politics can one person take? Murv, I would rather be chained to the desk at least my shoulder would stop hurting then.

      alexx

    • On the plus side it didn’t take a heart attack to get you out of the BAD PLACE.

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