Bringing the Swagger Back One Hot Man at a Time



Dude, I love this commercial. I've watched it over and over again and crack up every time. Granted, I have a pretty lame sense of humor but I laugh with/at Mommy Pie with the rest of 'em.

Here's what I love about this ad:

1) The product name Swagger is pure genius. Swagger is a word we don't inject into our vernacular nearly enough. I suppose it's because few men really swagger anymore. Really, can you name one man who swaggers and gets away with it? Mac Daddy is a Leo so he should swagger, but he's the most un-Leo of any Leo I know. If Mac Daddy swaggered he'd just look like he had been riding a mechanical bull in an out-of-the-way airport bar on the outskirts of Pittsburgh for way too long. Or he'd look like someone stuck a gnawed corncob up his butt.

2) The tagline is perfect. "The scent that makes a difference." It totally goes with the commercial, the brand personality, and all the psychological consumer marketing mumbo jumbo stuff that account planners work very hard to figure out and copywriters and art directors work very hard to make come to life. I rank it second to the best tagline ever.

3) The squeal. More perfect than Erkel. I cringe when I hear it. Perhaps because I can relate. Since I'm on the cusp of 40, and my extraordinarily geeky middle school days are about 17,029 exits behind the road I travel on now, I can admit this publicly; I was the girl version of the squealer back in the day.

And the final reason I love this ad:
LL Cool J. Really, need I say more? I might go into heat if I do.

His Future's Not Bright, Take Off the Blinders

I do not wish for a future like Levi Johnston's for my sons. The Republicans are saying "Life happens." In my world, Levi's situation feels more like "shit happens."

Take a look at Levi's MySpace page. He sounds like a typical uneducated, smart ass, punk, jock of a guy. Not the kind of gracious souled gentlemen I want my boys to become. I realize boys will be boys. The saying does not proclaim, however, that boys will be heathens. And if I had a daughter, hell if I'd want her to marry a guy like Levi. Take a look for yourself.

Excerpted from his MySpace page, Johnston boasts, "I'm a fuckin' redneck" who likes to snowboard and ride dirt bikes.

"But I live to play hockey. I like to go camping and hang out with the boys, do some fishing, shoot some shit and just fuckiin' chillin' I guess."

"Ya fuck with me I'll kick [your] ass," he added.

He also claims to be "in a relationship," but states, "I don't want kids."

His folks must be whiz bang proud. Yeah, I'm hip like the cool kids saying things like "whiz bang." I'm just happenin' like that, ya know.

I happen to know a few 18-year old boys. They are gracious, ambitious, polite, witty, and charming (not in an Eddie Haskell way). They have bright futures. The boys I knew when I was an 18-year old myself were as randy as the rest, but none would have sounded as egotistical, rude, and plain neanderthal as Levi Johnston. Nope, not son in law material for my girl (Granted, I don't have one.).

I'm simply saying that as a mother, I am appalled. Granted, perhaps naive too. When I read that MySpace page my heart jumped with a tinge of shame, worry, embarrassment, and even empathy for Mrs. Johnston. I am certain that she envisioned a different future for her son, as I do for mine. I am just struck my his seeming lack of empathy, brute ruggedness, and gross display of testosterone. What insecurity lurks behind all that machismo? I do not think those statements necessarily make the boy, but they sure lay one hell of a foundation.

Oh, and so much for not wanting kids. Is this guy really ready for fatherhood? I find it so unfair that we don't choose our parents. This child will come to the world with many strikes against him/her. Love is critical, yes. But what life lessons can a teenage mother and father impart when they have yet to experience life themselves? Cliche, perhaps. True, indeed. I write this without political motivation. I write this as a mother. As a 35-year old first time mother who still found herself floundering, hormonal, overwhelmed, awestruck, confused, excitable, moved, and impressionable.

Teaching abstinence in schools is plain irresponsible. The people who believe that teaching abstinence equates to taking the moral high ground might as well move to the lush savannahs of Africa and put their heads in the ground among a flock of ostriches.

Tell me something I don't know!

You must read this before you continue.

Is this really what researchers need to spend their grant dollars doing? The next thing you know some fancy pants PhD from MIT is going to tell me that the latest research shows that college fraternity parties encourage binge drinking among 19-year old boys or that the more often a teenage LiLo wannabe wears words across her ass the less likely she is to get a BA in Economics.

Of course men create more housework for women! The male researcher should have just asked his wife. Or his mother. In this case, a focus group of one would have been sufficient to draw conclusions. Here's my favorite quote from Frank, "And the situation gets worse for women when they have children." No shit. Allow me to gather myself and readjust since falling over backwards from my Aeron.

Let's start with the little details of oh, say BIRTH. We do the hard work (as they say, it ain't called labor for nuthin'). The problem is that labor doesn't end when the nurse lays that writhing miracle in your arms. The fun just begins. We get to wear a diaper for weeks while trying to feed a child who gnaws on our nipples for hours a day. And never mind the juggling of other little ones running around, remembering to take the Lean Cuisine out of the microwave so we can get some much needed nourishment to keep the milk flowing, change some diapers, throw in laundry, and find time to sneak in a shower. Oh yeah, and then we're supposed to pick up our husband's strewn shoes and socks and briefcase to clear a path to the stairs and help him find his keys that he refuses to hang on the conveniently located hook by the front door.

Harumph. Frank, may I suggest you go research something more meaningful, like why women still think Republicans are helping our cause.

Bronzed

Happy 8th Anniversary to Mac Daddy!

Eight years ago today we were wed among the orchids and banyan trees at the Audubon House in Key West. Accompanied by our dear friends, Chris and Shan, we had the perfect, relaxed day (unlike the hubbub and frenzy of most wedding days!). We set off for a sunset sail, toasted margaritas, and devoured a fabulous dinner at Louie's Backyard.

The talented chef and gracious owner of Louie's Backyard gave us a personalized menu as a wedding day token. It was unfortunately damaged in a flooded storage unit with much of our wedding memories (but not photos thankfully!). The fine folks at Louie's Backyard promptly sent us a new one that now hangs framed in our kitchen. If you ever go to Key West, and you must, you will miss out on the supreme island experience if you forgo dinner and drinks at Louie's Backyard. It's unlike any backyard you'll ever experience.

So after eight very happy years of marriage, all I can say is that I am lucky, lucky, lucky. If scientists were to start cloning human beings, the unanimous vote among all who know know Mac Daddy, would be to start with him. I might not strike envy into the hearts of those who know me, but the fact that I have a husband as awesome as Mac Daddy makes everyone just a wee bit jealous. He is a genuine guy who is more tolerant and witty than anyone I know. He's the best dad, which makes me love him even more. And he's hot, hot, hot...even as he's teetering on the cusp of 40.

Every night before I fall asleep I say my prayers and say thanks to the Powers that Be that Mac Daddy chose me. I joke that he married his trophy wife on the first try. That's really just a defense mechanism because I also pray that he doesn't wake up one day and realize that he has married way, way down. Let's keep that a secret just between us, OK?