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12 september 2000

viva allergy season

For me, autumn is a double-edged sword. It is undoubtedly my favorite season, all crispy-cool and gorgeous. There's lots to do, what with hiking around the mountains and going to farmers markets and fairs. Everyone is bustling with their final burst of energy before the gray days of winter set in. I only have one problem --- actually a few hundred million problems --- with fall: pollen globs.

So most of you know that since I found Wilma, I've been steadfast in taking my allergy medications. And where she's concerned, I'm fine. Between running the vacuum cleaner more often than before and giving her biweekly baths with a special shampoo, we're getting along quite well. So I got all that taken care of, and darn if autumn doesn't come bombarding into my head like a big, itchy bull on wheels. I don't care when the calendar people say the first day of fall occurs. I'm telling you that it's the first day I awaken with my eyes swollen shut. I don't mean just swollen. I mean like the blinds are down, and it takes an hour of cuddling up to an ice pack to open them again.

Yeah, between that and the sneezing, I'm really attractive towards the middle of September. If I wore an old jacket and ripped jeans and stood on the sidewalk, people would give me money and tell me to get a sandwich.

This past Sunday, however, I was pleasantly reminded that I am not alone in this fleeting misery. In the bag that held the Sunday paper was a pretty neato advertising goody. The bag itself was sponsored by Allegra, and contained a nice little information brochure with a package of tissues. Sure, it isn't much, and I know it's just a ploy to get my money. But after stepping outdoors to get the paper in the first place, I needed a tissue.

Did they provide condoms with the Sunday paper when Viagra appeared on the market?

Over the past couple of years, pharmaceutical companies have come under fire for advertising to consumers as they do. When the practice became legal, they went bananas. (I guess when you've got as much money as they do, you can afford to go nuts.) Naturally, some of the commercials are really annoying, especially the ones that won't tell you what the medication is supposed to treat. They invariably show a scene of people running through fields, kayaking and rock climbing. Senior citizens are portrayed performing backflips, wife-swapping, and God know what else to prove that, whatever the pill is for; it makes you young, hip, and downright hot. There is no narration during the scene, except for some guy asking if you want your life to be better. If so, ask your doctor about Drug-o-riffic! Or, they provide a website that you can visit for further information about your yet-undiagnosed malady.

I want that job.

I want to be the new-drug narrator. Man, I would make millions! You may not think you're sick, but you sure will be once you find out about this cure we've got here! Or, Pills are cool. Take this one. And (my favorite), You're elderly. You're horny. And you want to take up nude bungee-jumping. Have we got a drug for you.

Yes, I think that once the swelling in my eyes goes down and I can see well enough to drive again, I'm heading to my local recording studio to make a demo. In the meantime, it's about time we claimed our free stuff! I'm going to start visiting these drug sites and stocking up on pens, stickers, t-shirts, and might even luck up on some samples. These tissues are just the tip of the iceberg, kids. I'm still just saying "no" to drugs. They cost too much anyway.

Just send me two ballcaps and a coffee mug, and I'll call you in the morning.