Humor. Opinion. Essays. Blather & Hububbery

The Foxworthy Factor. The Jerky Boy

Two recent events rocked my rather miniscule world.  I walked  into my local Wal Mart to pick up my weekly Smiley Face sticker when I saw a large poster of  country singer Tim McGraw.  This wasn't for an album, it was "McGraw" -- his new fragrance.  Dr. Phil is going to be upset he missed this open window of opportunity,  Apparently, there are hordes of men out there just waiting for a cologne that smells faintly like a cowboy hat and the sweaty dome of a balding head.  

triage1.jpgWhile I was still reeling from this olfactory surprise, I saw a package of Jeff Foxworthy Brand Beef Jerky.  The jerky industry needs a boost and it appears as if Jeff is their man.  I mean, who isn't looking for another sodium infused leather-meets-beef carcass snack?  The big marketing ploy is "Big Tender Taste."   I am happy because I wouldn't want to walk to the Winn Dixie for a "Small Tender Taste."   The runner up slogan was "Let Foxworthy Melt in Your Mouth."  Some consumers presumably had issues with this.

Well, if celebrity-branded items are the royal road to marketing riches, I want to pitch some ideas. 

The Spears' Sisters Home Pregancy Test.  Brittany and Jamie Lynn are prominently featured on the packaging with the tag line :"Opps I did it again."


494px-Larry_King.jpgLarry King's How to Create Your Own Exoskeleton. Kit comes complete with red suspenders. He's beginning to look a bit like a cast member of Alien vs Predator 4.


Bill Clinton's Quick Tanning Method.  Bill reveals his fashion-forward tanning method -- it involves placing your face under a McDonald's heating lamp. You not only turn a nice shade of blush red but you get to smell the sweet nectar of a double cheeseburger. 

Posted on Sunday, June 29, 2008 at 09:42PM by Registered CommenterMarty Baker | CommentsPost a Comment

BakerMuse Live from New York City: Viva la  Revolution!

Live from New York City. There is a war in New York City and only your intrepid BakerMuse reporter is willing to bring you the news. THE DUMPLING WARS

Well, I'm sitting in the Rickshaw Dumpling Bar decided whether to go "steamed" or "fried."  But the truth is I am scoping out the competition.  The Dumpling Man located in St. Mark's Place is the PR favorite -- led by the recommendation of the kindly Al Roker.  Now you have the culinary axis of cholesterol in Manhattan -- the Rickshaw Dumpling Bar , Dumpling Man and the steaming king of dumplings-- China Town.

Basically a dumpling is a clever way to hide mediocre pork, shrimp, chicken and tofu.  The variety of sauces are a clever way to disguise the dumpling, So,  basically it's a labyrinth food -- are  you into dumplings for the meat?  Is the the lure of the doughy dumpling itself?  Or are they just an Asian version of Hot Pockets? 

After after I wolfed down a few donut-chicken-chili-sauce confections and drank some watermelon juice -- I immediately marched my way over to Revolution Bookstore to soak up the new Marxism.  Apparently, the newly branded  world order starts at 146 W. 26th Street, between 6th & 7th Ave. 

I quote from the store itself:


 "Revolution Books is a crucible in which the most liberating science, revolutionary communism, interacts and mixes it up with all the streams of progressive, radical and revolutionary intellectual life.  At the heart of the store is Bob Avakian's radical re-envisioning of revolution and communism."

This tiny crucible was filled with what can be deftly described as people that looked like they belonged in a post-modern communist bookstore.  it was a mix of Grateful Dead Heads,  both men and women with gotees (The Maynard G. Krebs vibe) and Emma Goldman-looking elderly revolutionariies with canes.  I didn't mingle too much because I was loaded down with capitalist bags -- Whole Foods cookies, Strand Bookstore bags and a greased-soaked Rickshaw Dumpling Doggie Bag,

 Pic0051.jpg
Viva la Revolution.  And,oh yes, Credit cards accepted,
 
    
 


Posted on Wednesday, June 18, 2008 at 12:07PM by Registered CommenterMarty Baker | Comments1 Comment

BakerMuse Live From New York City

Here I am sitting at one of seven tables at Murray's Bagels on 8th Avenue. The table is the size of paperback book. My massive Murray bagel dwarfs the table top. It could feed a small country. And frankly, I'm beginning to look like one.

Well, I've only been in the big Apple for a few hours and already I have enough material for 50 BakerMuse excursions. Shall I begin with the synchronized homeless team or the jay walking priest? Or perhaps the rickshaw/motorcycle delivery guy who specializes only in cheese?

Okay, let's start with the Padre. I see him coming from a block away, dressed in layers of white. He looked like the Pope with out the hat a large silver crucifix dangling in this sea of white. The crosswalk sign turns to "Don't Walk" I begin to wonder, will this representative of the Holy See follow earthly mandates. Of course, not. He briskly walks against traffic and a group of us applaud. Apparently, he was late for confession.

An hour earlier, I saw a gaggle of homeless men, each pushing their own shopping carts. The older and obviously more experienced guy barked orders to the other two -- making sure they did an adequate re con of the available trash bins. Oddly enough, every trash bin is festooned with a warning sticker that reads "No Littering $100 Fine."

A little later I'm walking near the "Comfort Diner." Above the diner is a well-appointed apartment with enormous plate glass windows. I was romancing the idea of writing a bad novel in one of these swanky garrets with polished wood floors and limited edition lithographs of some obscure artist when a portly man parades in front of this tableau naked as a jay bird.

Like a bad accident, I couldn't avert my eyes. He (I hope it was a he ) looked like a cross between Golda Meir and Fritz Mondale. Dangerfield.I'm already having war zone flashbacks and post-traumatic syndrome. I wash away the trauma with a latte.

Then, there's the Cheese Guy -- operating what looked a vehicle more at home in the teeming streets of Hong Kong. "Same Day Cheese Delivery" is the decal on his contraption. So if you're in Manhattan and have a Shemp-like craving for cheese, you have the source. Thanks to my trusty camera phone, here's proof.
Pic0045.jpg

I suddenly have a craving for some Gouda and a curious desire to remove my clothes.

Marty

Posted on Monday, June 16, 2008 at 11:49AM by Registered CommenterMarty Baker | Comments1 Comment

The Upside of Downsizing

How poor am I?  Let me just say that banks are sending me toasters not to open an account.  It's gotten so bad, even pan handlers are returning my spare coins.  And I may be the only person in America who isn't afraid of identity theft because I don't want to ruin their reputation.  So, like a millennial version of Dale Carnegie, I've decided to lovingly embrace the upside of downsizing my life.

While others are cursing the money gods for turning their 401k into chump change, I say to old man recession, "Bring it On."  Here's some uplifting tidbits from poorville, U.S.A.

1.  No more Hummer Envy. 

I used to be in awe of the Hummer.  It was one of the few vehicles that swaggered while parked. It took two tons of steel and technology to carry home a bag of groceries. But now that it takes a small fortune to fill the tank, I feel sorry for the owner. It may be the only form of transportation that gets negative miles per gallon. 

2. No more Sharper Image Fantasies.

Recently I heard that Sharper Image is filing for bankruptcy citing  "a severe liquidity crisis." That's the same line I used on my parents in my lean college years.  I used to dream about the Panasonic Real Pro Ultra Total Body Massage Lounger with it's orgasmic Jenetsu ultra-kneading.  At a mere $4800 it was a bargain.  You could easily massage away the stress of buying beyond your means.  The Ionic Breeze has now become the Ironic Breeze.

3. No need to peruse speciality boutiques. 

Sometime in the 80's, mom and pop stores were replaced by trendy places with names like the "The Velveteen Unicorn" and "The Great Impasta."   Imagine an entire store filled with pasta makers. That's $200 a pop to make doughy bits of semolina.  Then there's the must have items like a faux 17th century coal scuttle with matching tongs.

4. No need to invest in vitamins.

 I used to troll the isles of health food stores like a Jack Lalane on speed.  I once mortgaged my house to buy an organic apple.  My medicine chest used to be filled with expensive bottles of Shark Cartilage,  purified algae micro-nutrients, and the kind of calcium that you can only find on remote Pacific Islands.   It took years to realize that everyone in the store looked like they had a few hours to live.  Now I just buy a box of Total Cereal.

5.  No need to dine at Chez What.

Waiter, I'll think I'll have the Salade de Volaille Malinoise, Croquettes de Volaillle, Rognon Brochettes Cleveland, Salade de Boeuf Campagnarde
Escalopes de Veal Liegeoise and that darling bottle Château Ducru-Beaucaillou 1989.  Oh, and here's my entire wallet -- have at it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 


 

 

Posted on Wednesday, May 28, 2008 at 09:27PM by Registered CommenterMarty Baker in | CommentsPost a Comment

Quibbles Part 4: The grunt, the yell and the floating gorilla

 

Welcome to Quibbles Part 4.   A quibble is an cloying annoyance that isn't earth shattering, but should be. 

Quibble #1

2305b.gifI can't watch women's professional tennis anymore.  They are amazingly graceful, focused athletes but if I hear one more "grunt" as they hit the ball  I'm going to impale myself with a Wilson K Factor KSix racquet with the round end facing in.  Pro Maria Sharapova has a 100 decibel grunt that has set off car alarms in neighboring cities and miraculously cured thousands of constipated fans.

It all started with Monica Seles who had a world-class grunt. She was forced to retire for two years after a spectator stabbed her in the back.  Some say the incident was the fault of a seriously disturbed fan named Gunter Parche. Some say it was the grunt that drove him to it. Sure, I could turn the sound down, but then I'd miss the rantings of the great John McEnroe.

 

 

Quibble #2

1216074-1557436-thumbnail.jpg Billy Mays.  You may not know the name but you know the guy.  He is pudgy dark haired spokesperson who doesn't talk -- he yells.  He is the shrill shill behind Oxy Clean and the Awesome Auger.  I am trying to imagine this guy at home.  He's trying to yell his way through a bedtime story and his kid is crouching in fear,   But it's good to know the that the family's laundry is stain free,

 

 

 

 

 

Quibble #3

942_Gorilla.jpgCar Dealership Commercials.   Okay, let's work through this together.  You're about to plunk down $20,000 on a car and the best the dealer can do is hoist a large floating gorilla over the building as bait?  What is it about cars and trucks that bring out marketing circa 1950?  Why any dealer of four-wheeled vehicles would have a "Blow Out" sale is beyond me.  It started in California with Cal Worthington and his dog Spot. The joke was that Spot was never a dog but some kind of farm or zoo animal.  I don't know how many cars he sold, but sales of chimps went through the roof.

 

 

Posted on Saturday, May 10, 2008 at 08:12PM by Registered CommenterMarty Baker in | CommentsPost a Comment
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