A Wonder-Fall Season

Everywhere I go lately, more people (myself included) are commenting on how fast time seems to be going by – this year more than any other. For example, how could it already be almost six months since I “wondered” in this space? Better fix that right now. Ready?

I wonder ... how many irate letters were written to Capital One about their new Quicksilver credit card commercial where celebrity endorser, Samuel L. Jackson, looked straight at the camera and used a swear word. It only took about a week before they felt the wrath of viewers and replaced the offensive spot with a tamer, more civilized version I’m sure they had in the can just for that purpose. Mr. Jackson now says, “ ... every single day.”

I wonder ... how long it will be until nobody notices such language from primetime network advertisers?

I wonder … how many times I’ll be suckered into buying the latest Paul McCartney album? Let the 71-year-old man retire, for crying out loud. He only transformed the world of music and pop culture for multiple generations and will forever be remembered as one of the greatest songwriters of all time. But seriously, if anyone other than Sir Paul had produced such boring, repetitive albums as his last couple of dozen, they would be insignificant bottom-dwellers of the iTunes sales charts.

I wonder … if advertisers are really using more sound effects of door bells in their commercials? Or am I’m just noticing because I have a hyper-active, 90-pound maniac of a Labradoodle puppy in the house who will knock down chairs, leap over couches and move his four furry legs faster than Fred Flintstone at quitting time in the quarry every time he mistakenly thinks there’s somebody at our door. The other morning I counted no less than 8 different commercials using a door bell sound effect in the span of two hours. My poor dog.

I wonder ... if women will ever participate in the national “No-Shave November” event like more and more men do each year? I mean, if our longsuffering lady folk have to put up with our bristly, scratchy faces, it’s only fair that we should have to do the same with their legs, right?

I wonder … if anyone in management at LAX realizes the instant negative reaction their airport receives wherever one travels around the world? This past summer I took one of those shared airport shuttle vans to Dallas-Fort Worth airport from my hotel about 40 minutes away. Two of the passengers crowded into our van began comparing airport horror stories and nominating which one they would least want to travel through. The other travelers soon joined in and eventually, there was a consensus that either Pittsburg or Sao Paula were the absolute worst – until I mentioned LAX. Immediately, there was a unanimous groan of acknowledgement that LAX was the place no one wanted to see on their itinerary due to a combination of rude, unhelpful employees and overused, poorly designed facilities. Other than that, we got it goin’ on, Angelinos!

I wonder … why more entrepreneurs for whom English is a second language don’t have their business signage looked at by someone a little more familiar with the mother tongue before hang it up for all to see? Along Foothill Blvd alone, there are many storefront signs that are, to say the least, confusing. For example, what does “Building your healthy place” mean for a pizza parlor? Beats me. At one time (it’s closed now) there was a Chinese restaurant on Foothill in Tujunga with a deliciously terrible name, the “Poo Ping Palace.” Not surpisingly, I could never get up the nerve to try their food.

I wonder ... if we’ll all be wearing coats or cut-offs for this year’s Montrose Christmas parade? Only the Doppler Nine Thousand Mega Radar Dookickey knows for sure.

I’ll see you ‘round town.