THE BEA MONOLOGUES

I don't know about the rest of you, but there are times when I can barely sit through a session of TV viewing without at least five or six moments of acute embarrassment. I'm not talking about the shows, as my shame level runs fairly high for those, particularly if a Real Housewife or two is involved. The source of my discomfort?  The commercials! People, what has become of our dignity? When I see an advertisement that deals in bodily functions or fluids, all I can do is shake my head and ask myself one simple question, "WWABS?  (What Would Aunt Bea Say?")

Bea Taylor: Our Patron Saint of Common Decency

Dare we discuss toilet paper ads in a public forum? I think it's time. First of all, why are we being exposed to the after-care habits of cartoon bears? It's certainly understandable that they would rather wipe themselves with something other than a tree trunk, but do we really need all the details? Also, whose brilliant idea was this?
                    
                                                               or this?
                 
                    

While it might be an issue for bears, if you are a human with bits of TP stuck all over your hind quarters, it's time to modify your diet. Also, if you are setting off alarms in airport security, it's not the toilet paper.

The bags of heroine he's carrying in his upper and lower digestive tract will require much more than Charmin to get him out of this mess.

Aunt Bea speaks out:

"Kill them, Andy. These people were never taught to properly wipe."
"Now, Aint Bea!"

The, there are the ads for products for women who accidentally pee their pants. Let's face it. Female bladders take a beating, what with us carrying our offspring directly on top of them for nine long months. But, in the past, this was not a topic for public consumption. I don't recall my grandmother announcing, "Oops! I sneezed. Better go change my underwear." Now, it's all the rage! Women are:

Dancing with joy,

Taking flight in excitement,

And journaling in mindful contentment...

..about pants-wetting experiences.  I'm pretty sure we all know what Aunt Bea would make of it.

"Well! They certainly have no shame in the big cities like Mount Pilot, do they Clara?"
"Yes. But, think of the money we'll save on laundry!"

Some ads, though well-meaning, simply are not for polite company. Lately, we've seen animated bladders dragging middle-aged women into the Ladie's like squirming toddlers, cartoon colons explaining the symptoms of an uncomfortable and inconvenient bowel condition, and a woman with an unfortunate haircut telling us how to control flatulence.

If you have the first two conditions, I'd suggest you get your medical advise from a physician rather than an ad run every 15 minutes during The Voice. If you have the third condition, buy a dog and blame it. It's the natural alternative.

But, WWABS about all this talk gastro-urinary issues?

"Well, it's true that the GasX might be useful, I'll give you that."

Since we're on the topic of the digestive system, the latest in "My eyes! My eyes!" ads comes with an official-sounding (but made-up) diagnosis called OIC. In it, a poor man sees every creature around him experiencing the joys of a healthy bowel movement. One woman even has toilet paper stuck to her shoe as a sign of her achievement! The man, like a lost soul in The Twilight Zone, shuffles around a city of black-and-white, colon full, heart empty.

                                         
His problem is Opiod Induced Constipation, and I think Aunt Bea and I would agree that if you are taking an opiod on a long-term basis (be it prescribed or not prescribed,) you have bigger problems than a sluggish digestive tract. 

Aunt Bea speaks her mind:

That leads us to the granddaddy of TV ads that make us feel awkward, particularly in mixed company.

We get it. As we age, our whoopie! parts don't work the way they used to.  The ads show aging, yet handsome men, strolling through a flower market or dancing in the kitchen with his wife. He assumes she's ready to get some Marvin Gaye playing on the iPhone, but needs to take a little blue pill to make it happen. (Just watch out. Apparently, Marvin Gaye can last more than four hours, at which point you must consult a physician.)

Also, sometimes the moment is totally spontaneous and completely unexpected, like when you both happen to buck naked in matching bathtubs overlooking thousands of acres of paradise. Who could have predicted? Fortunately, there's a pill for that, too.

                                         

What say you of this topic being publicly discussed on television, Aunt Bea?... Aunt Bea?

"Oh my! Do you have any of those little blue pills I've seen advertised?"

Well. Even Aunt Bea is vulnerable to the power of advertising. Fortunately, thanks to Netflix, Hulu and DVRs, we no longer have to hear an actor list the gory side-effects of a medication or watch a father change his child's diaper on a kitchen counter. Of course, that means we have to miss out on the "Awwww!" factor of the tiny pony being shunned by the big, mean horses! Never fear. Just watch it right here whenever you need a fix!