Dramatization

I was watching television the other day and a tooth paste commercial came on. During the commercial, they showed little happy bubble creatures swarming through a mouth, cheerfully scrubbing away the plaque. Two things occurred to me as I was watching this.

The first was that this commercial was almost identical to the ones for bathtub cleaning products. Think about it: both feature determined soap-like creatures scrubbing away dirt/grime/blood. Both take place somewhere you really don’t want to think about (bathrooms/your mouth). And both products are a direct result of something you did. Probably something filthy.

Seriously, you could swap the soundtracks for any two of those commercials and unless you were actually paying attention, you probably wouldn’t realize that a switch had been made.

The second thing that caught my attention about the tooth paste commercial was as the happy, bubble men were swarming through the mouth like happy, bubbly locusts, fine print appeared at the bottom of the screen that said ‘Dramatization.’
Now, I’m reasonably certain that most people are smart enough to realize that their toothpaste is not comprised of legions of sentient, paste-centered beings whose existence revolves around removing plaque and other icky things from their teeth. Obviously, the companies have to put those disclaimers to protect themselves and all that.

But wouldn’t it be so much more fun if there really were little plaque fighting men in your toothpaste?

Picture this: your mouth is the Gate of Mordor and all the plaque and bacteria and stuff are really orcs and trolls and other fell creatures. They’re there to not only rot your teeth, but to destroy the very world. Your toothpaste is full of little Gondorian soldiers and Elves and Rohirrim and Dwarves and Wizards and Ents and stuff and they’re attacking, intent on not only defeating the hosts of Mordor, but protecting the very world from the evil that is in your mouth.

Doesn’t that sound cool? You’re not just brushing your teeth, you’re fighting EVIL. The very world hangs in the balance and all that stands in the way of utter defeat is you brushing for the recommended 2 minutes twice a day.

If someone had told me this when I was a kid, it would have saved my parents a ton of money in dental bills.

Now I just need to work flossing into the analogy somehow.

Cheers,
-Jason

For Best Results: Smite!

Whilst brushing my teeth the other day (something I do once a week even if I don’t need it) I happened across the directions on the back.

NOTE: Sorry, that was ‘ewww’ even for me. I do brush my teeth twice a day. Honestly. And floss. And use mouthwash. It’s showering I do once a week.

Anyway, I noticed a sentence in big red letters at the bottom of the directions. ‘For best results, squeeze the tube from the bottom and flatten as you go up.’

I wondered as I stood there, clad in my Spiderman Underoos, my teeth gleaming from my vigorous and dare I say, manly, brushing, ‘how else do you get the toothpaste out?’

Obviously there was a reason they included this in the directions. The marketers didn’t just look at the tube and say ‘Huh, this isn’t clear enough. Let’s add text!’ I’m honestly curious as to what people must have been doing to get the toothpaste out that the manufacturer felt it necessary to add a hint.

Did they discover that the average user was smashing the tube with a hammer and collecting the paste off the wall? Mayhap was a chainsaw being employed to tear the tube asunder, so the minty goodness inside could be reached? Was radiation involved? Gamma rays? A Rube Goldberg-ian contraption that involved a stuffed shark, three penguin feet, an eye patch and the bones of an Australopithecus?

NOTE: I am particularly pleased with myself as I spelled ‘Australopithecus’ correctly on the first try. Honest.

Granted, the directions may have been left over from the 1920’s, when toothpaste in a tube was ‘new’ and flappers were doing the Lindy Hop and things smelt of turnips, but still, how hard is it? They didn’t bother to inform the consumer to remove the cap and that seems to be the tricky part. They had faith, it seemed, that the cap would be removed, yet the user would then be unable to squeeze the tube.

It’s weird. Puzzling even.

Cheers,
-Jason