Chuck Woolery on Line 3

I’ve been listening to ESPN radio all day at work so I hear the same commercials over and over again in between show segments. A new one popped up last week starring none other than Chuck “I used to be Famous” Woolery. You know you have a small advertising budget when you’re doing a radio spot, not TV, and the best voice guy you can afford is a) a game show host and b) hasn’t been popular in 20 years.

“We need a recognizable voice for our commercial. Who can we get?”

“An actor?”

“No, too expensive.”

“A singer?”

“They cost more than actors.”

“A game show host?”

“That’s it. Get me Wink Martindale.”

“Already tried, he turned us down.”

“Shit! All right, call Woolery.”

“He’s been in the lobby for a week looking for work.”

The product is Australian Dream Back Pain Cream. Not making that up, it’s an actual product for sale everywhere currency is exchanged for goods. My favorite part of the commercial is after the Chuckster names the product, his next words are “It’s real medicine.”

You hear that? Those are alarm bells. Those are Klaxons blaring, warning you about this product. When you see a commercial for cough syrup, medicated powder, Viagra, cholesterol meds, whatever, at no point do they ever say the words “its real medicine!”

If you have to tell me that it’s legitimate, you’ve actually told me it’s not.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Smith and I’ll be doing your surgery today. These are real surgical instruments!”

“I’m Mary, your nurse, I’m here to check your blood pressure. I have a license! I know what I’m doing!

“Hello, my name is Roger and I’ll be doing your taxes. I can count!”

“This is Captain Thomas and I’ll be your pilot today. I know what all these buttons do!”

Do all Australians dream of medicated ointment? Is the manufacturing of unguents a large part of the Aussie GNP?

“Oy, pass me another tube of non-greasy, anti-fungal, extra strength formula elbow joint cream.”

All these years my picture of Australia was blue water, beautiful women, kangaroos and Crocodile Dundee. It turns out, their providing employment for washed-up American emcees and curing our aches and pains with clean, no odor balm with a capricious rhyming name. They should have gotten Paul Hogan to do the commercial though.

“You call that a tube of arthritis cream? This is a tube of arthritis cream.”

These Feet Were Made for Blistering

I went to Washington D.C. a few Fridays ago and saw the monuments and a couple of museums. I did A LOT of walking. Everything is in one area but it’s all so big you have walk and walk and walk to get anywhere. By the end of the day I had developed a very large blister on the bottom of my right foot. It’s getting better . . . but it’s not going away entirely and I’m afraid it’s taken up permanent residence.

I searched the internet for precedence and found the case of Larry Brickman from Sioux City Iowa who developed a blister on his heel in 1997. The repeated use of antibiotic cream (which I have been using as well) resulted in the blister gaining sentience. Before Larry knew it the blister, who was now going by the name Whitey Hardskin, had built a permanent home on his heel complete with indoor plumbing and rattan furniture on the deck overlooking Larry’s calf.

Feeling nervous, last night I tried talking to my blister:

“So, when were thinking about leaving?”

“Nerty efidof dfogg.”

“What?”

“Joued nmmkjsdh nnndfff”

“I gotta go. Nice talking to you.”

“Blerf.”

Ok, so good news and bad news. The bad news, the blister talked back so it’s self-aware. The good news is it’s apparently a blithering idiot. I decided to cover it up with a bandage and hope that without light and air, the blister would pack up and move on. But before I could place the bandage I was handed a tiny piece of paper. Putting it under a bright light and using an electron microscope I built myself from empty Chef Boy-Ar-Dee cans and Fruit Stripe gum, I read a strongly worded cease-and-desist letter. The blister has retained counsel.

So for now I’m stuck with my foot blister. It talks while I’m trying to sleep, cries during episodes of Duck Dynasty and yells out wrong answers during Jeopardy. The answer was “He led the roughriders in the Spanish-American War” and the blister says “What is peanut butter?” Come on: If you’re not even going to try . . .

I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m being inundated with legal briefs from the lawyer. The blister is suing me for everything from defamation of character to creating an unsafe work environment. He’s also applied for a permit to build a townhouse. The borough inspected my foot last night and will issue a ruling late next week.

All this to see the Washington Monument . . .