I mean, in theory, it's a great idea...

I think that the reason the Motrin ad to-do has crawled under my skin as it has is because it is disheartening to see that some people simply do not get it. I have children in college and high school in addition to the SuperCat, so this isn't my first spin around the block. So, while things are better today that they were 20 years ago, and much better than when I was a child myself, we aren't quite there yet.

My children range in age from 20 on down to toddler, and I would like to think that my daughters won't ever face a culture that devalues their decisions and decision-making. But that probably isn't so.

It's still see as acceptable to make fun of women and their choices. I'd like to see that change, and for me, avoiding products from companies whose culture allowed this sort of ad makes sense.

An update, of sorts: The people at McNeil Consumer Healthcare, makers of Motrin, have placed an apology in the spot where the ad once ran on their website. The apology contains the line: We are parents ourselves and we take the feedback of moms very seriously.

Now, aside from the weak apology, which trots out the thread-bare phrase "taking _____ very seriously" which is somewhat of a joke over at Consumerist(^), that sentence begs a question:

Whose bright idea was it to make fun of mothers and marginalize their decisions? If you'd like me to be a customer so much that you target an ad at my demographic, whose bright idea was it to make fun of that same demographic? And that goes double since, as you say, you are parents.

Finally, a parody of the original Motrin ad. It is everything the original wasn't (funny, smart, and sharp). It's from Motherhood Uncensored(^) and The Imperfect Parent(^).



Namaste.

Goodbye Motrin. Hello, brand equivalent and non-insulting generics.

Tonight, after I got home from a lovely day out and about with my sweet husband (we had a blast - more on that later), reading through my RSS feed, I found an entry at Crunchy Domestic Goddess(^) that I found infuriating (not directed at CDG, of course).

Companies often try to capture the spirit of a particular group for monetary gain. This shouldn't shock us - it's how advertising works. Advertisers want you to associate their products with your problems. They want you to think that they understand and that they can help solve your problems. They try to use words and images that register with us, so that we'll think they are speaking our language.

Mothers are a group that is frequently targeted. This also shouldn't shock us - moms like me make a lot of the buying decisions for our homes, and persuading us to purchase something can result in huge profits.

It's far too late in the evening (early in the morning, actually) to debate the pros and cons of target marketing, but allow me to say this: when it doesn't work, it can result in the worst type of backlash.

Like the kind I am about to engage in:

All parents, regardless of where they live or what they believe, want what is best for their child. Good food, good health, and safe environment. Those are the basics.

Of course, we all want everything good for our children. We want them to love and feel loved; comfort and feel comforted. We want them to feel sympathy and empathy, to receive it when they need it, and to have the compassion to give it freely when they should.

We all want our children to grow up to be everything they were meant to be.

And while we each may parent differently, we all want the same things. We all work toward the same goals, though we may take different paths to get there.

So, when a company chooses to poke cynical, mean-spirited fun of us to make a quick dollar, it doesn't help. It adds nothing of value. It belittles the very people who do society's heavy lifting.

McNeil Consumer Healthcare, the makers of Motrin, (ibuprofen), have decided that it makes monetary sense to belittle women who, after careful study, keep their young babies in slings worn on the body(^). Women the world over "wear" their babies. They always have. It provides babies with the constant warm and loving environment they need to thrive and flourish physically and emotionally.

Many moms have found that babies who are worn are generally happier, and more content. They find that their babies eat better, and they often breastfeed longer, which directly translates to better health. Slings allow mothers the freedom to move back into an active lifestyle soon after the child's birth, and it has been suggested that slings can help with postpartum depression. Translation: it's good for moms as well.

But, according to the people who make Motrin (and Tylenol, for that matter), and in contrast to the overwhelming majority of women who wear or have worn their little ones, doing what women all over the world do and have done for centuries, wearing your baby makes mom cry.

The ad has lines like:

Wearing your baby seems to be in fashion.

Translation: Jump on the bandwagon, you silly, thoughtless woman.

Someone should inform them that women have always done this. Always. Take a look at a United States Mint One Dollar coin. It has Sacajawea, the Shoshone guide to the Lewis and Clark Expedition in 1804 on the obverse side, her tiny son Jean Baptiste being carried on her back.

More, from the ad: Supposedly, it’s a real bonding experience.

Supposedly? Where is a baby supposed to be, if not with her parents? In a crib, alone and screaming?

(&)

These things put a ton of strain on your back, your neck, your shoulders. Did I mention your back?!

Um, no they don't. Choosing the right sling and wearing it properly doesn't hurt. If it does, seek out the help of other moms, try a different one, or wear the one you have differently. Did I mention it isn't supposed to hurt?

Honest.

Really.

I promise.

The ad ends with:

Plus, it totally makes me look like an official mom.

Translation: There you go again, fluff-for-brains. You didn't research your position. You didn't think it through. You aren't competent or smart. You're doing it because it looks good.

~~~

McNeil Consumer Healthcare and Motrin thinks it's ok to insult moms to make a buck. They think it's ok to demean women, to undermine our parenting, to sell their product.

But they are wrong. This cynical ploy is enough to banish Motrin from our medicine cabinets. If the makers of Motrin feel that denigrating women to make a buck is ethical, we feel comfortable refusing their product.

Generics are there for a reason. Loyalty to brands only works when the brand is worth being loyal to. The makers of Motrin and Tylenol have lost me as a customer.

If you'd like to hear the ad yourself, find it here, at Motrin's website. It was there when I started writing tonight. If they remove it, Barb at Perfectly Natural Photography(^) has thoughtfully transcribed it.

If you Twitter, consider tweeting this. If you do, please add "#motrinmoms" or "#motrindads" (no quotes) to your tweet. I'm not sure who started this, but here are the results at Twitter(^). Pages and pages and pages. My own Twitter feed is in the smaller column here on my blog, or here(^).

If you feel moved, you can write a quick note to McNeil Consumer Healthcare here(^). Here is what I wrote:

I find it hard to fathom that denigrating mothers makes good business sense, so when I heard your commercial last night which belittles dedicated parents to sell Motrin, I was shocked.
We will no longer be purchasing Motrin (or Tylenol) and will strongly encourage our friends to avoid your products as well.

I am mommy, hear me roar.

Namaste

Stand By Me

A video from the film Playing For Change: Peace Through Music(^), about the Playing for Change Foundation,(^) established to build music and art schools worldwide.

I saw this originally on Bill Moyers Journal(^), where the director talked about uniting people through music.

The cynical part of me wonders if programs like this help. The hopeful part of me wants very much for it to be so.

Tangentially, it makes me miss my dad and New Orleans, where some of it was filmed, as you can see in the video.


Stand By Me



Have a wonderful, peace-filled weekend.

Namaste.

Can You Picture That?

This is the retaining wall in front of my dentist's office. I went in yesterday to have my teeth cleaned. It took an hour and a half. Part II is in two weeks, when the left side heals.

I can hardly wait.

I'm used to it, actually, and don't think anything about getting eight shots in the jaw It's like water off a duck's back. Agonizing water, but water nonetheless. Honestly, the most tortuous thing about the whole event was that the regular hygienist was out sick with the flu, and the fill-in, (who really was super nice/competent/cheery/quick/good) had changed the radio station to a grotty country station. I really like classic country, which this wasn't.

Yarf.

So, I noticed this on the way in, and asked the receptionist. Apparently, the day before, a 13-year-old had stolen a truck from a local funeral home and wrecked it, flying through the steel polls that one might hope would prevent this sort of thing, destroying a huge chunk of retaining wall, and coming to rest on someone's car.

Do you think becoming airborne, Bo & Luke Duke style, in a real vehicle feels like it does in MarioCart, or much, much worse?

Based on nothing except the most basic understanding of physics, I'm guessing "much, much worse".
That could be my sense of schadenfreude kicking in, though.

Q: If your patient is in the dentist's office, getting their teeth cleaned or whatever, and a funeral parlour truck and large chunks of a retaining wall lands on his or her car, do you stop the proceedure and tell them? Should you wait till they are done?

A: I dunno. Do they teach that sort of thing in dental school? I'm sure whatever the answer is, the staff did the right thing. They're awesome, and I really like the doctor.

All I know is that my 90 minutes with nu-country and a chipper hygienist couldn't't have been anywhere near as bad as all that.

In honor of all things dental, here is Dr. Teeth & the Electric Mayhem performing Can You Picture That?, from The Muppet Movie(^) (1979)

Colfax Avenue

After our meal at Casa Bonita, and as part of my "1000 photos in one day" exercise (I decided to take 1000 images in one day to break in my new camera), I took these on Colfax Avenue.

Right next to Casa Bonita, there's a magic shop. In all the times I've been there, I've never seen it open, but I'm assuming it does open occasionally. It has a creepy (translation: I would love to own it) stuffed rabbit in the window, along with a beyond-creepy (translation: I HATE CLOWNS) mannequin and other fascinating things.

One day I hope to visit the shop itself. In the meantime, here's their window:

awesome old stuffed magician's bunny. My husband added a filter to this picture because I asked him to. Here's what he looks like "unfiltered":

From Outside Casa Bonita

hideously awesome

From Outside Casa Bonita

more bunny love...

From Outside Casa Bonita

a magician's costume, I think...

From Outside Casa Bonita

pirate costume... ok...

From Outside Casa Bonita

long shot of the window...

From Outside Casa Bonita

another shot of the entire window...

From Outside Casa Bonita

a prop skull and a snake? cool.

From Outside Casa Bonita

AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!

As you can see, it is right and good to fear clowns.

Back to Casa Bonita, before we depart for Colfax. Here's the fountain right outside:

From Outside Casa Bonita

The fountain with Daniel sitting on the ledge. As I was shooting this, I noticed the rainbow behind him:

From Outside Casa Bonita

They're always after his Lucky Charms!

From Outside Casa Bonita

The bell tower on Casa Bonita; it really looks out of place in the shopping center, but is still really pretty.

From Outside Casa Bonita

a close up of the bell tower (or as close as its gonna get until I get another camera lens)

Then, finally, into the car, waving bye-bye till next year:

From Colfax Avenue

well, not so much waving as looking at me as if to say, When are you gonna stop with the camera?

From Colfax Avenue

I wish all the neon on this sign worked; old neon is neat, and it seems to be quickly fading from the landscape, which is a real shame.

Filtered

neat brickwork and I like the reflection in the window (filtered)

liquor store (filtered)

My other favorite, besides the Bunny motel.
There is so much going on here, and the brick work is so pretty.

the same view, filtered.

Sidewok cafe. They deliver... bad puns.

Do you have to have a valid passport to go to Car Land? Are special vaccinations required, like when you go to exotic foreign locales? Is Andy the president, or the king, or what? So many questions, so few answers.

More neat brick work, as the sun sets slowly behind us over the Rockies. So many buildings now look as though they were made from a cookie cutter; it's nice to see these old buildings with character. Even though this was probably never a fancy address, whoever built it took pride in their work.

Whoa! All of a sudden you crest a little hill on Colfax and you can see all of downtown Denver straight ahead. To the left we have...

Mile High Stadium.
It's really named "Invesco Field at Mile High", but no one calls it that.
Everyone calls it "Mile High Stadium", which is what the old stadium was called. Except sportscasters, who are compelled to call it "Invesco Field at Mile High". They probably hate doing it, though, because they know they sound like total tools.
This is where President-elect Barack Obama accepted the Democratic Party nomination in August.

Finally, merging south onto the interstate, headed home...

Namaste.

More Sopapias, Please

We are expecting snow today. Right now it's cold and rainy. I spent part of the morning trying to persuade SuperCat to let me read to her. Today, for whatever reason, she wants to play on the computer. Mean mommy (me) has other ideas, though, so we've been having a tug-of-war over what we're going to do. While she was working on her computer, I was arranging photos on Picassa(^), labeling photos of Casa Bonita.

Every time we go to Casa Bonita(^), I feel as though I should be taking more pictures.

Casa Bonita, known to many people because of the South Park episode(^) of the same name, is a real place. A huge, cavernous Mexican-themed restaurant with cliff divers, rampaging gorillas, Black Bart's Cave, a volcano and all the other stuff Eric Cartman schemes to go see.

The food is, at best, so-so. But you don't really go for the food; you go for everything else.

Casa Bonita is a few minutes west of downtown Denver, but is actually in Lakewood, Colorado. It's on Colfax Avenue, not the best part of town, in a shopping center. So, you're driving along one motel after the next, gas stations, liquor stores, and so on, until all of a sudden, on your left, is the garish, bright pink facade in the corner of a half-empty shopping center.

After our last visit, it was still bright outside when we were done with dinner, and I took a lot of pictures of Colfax itself, which will be in my next post.

We make a point of taking the kids once a year, or when someone from out of town wants to visit. I always take tons of pictures; the colors are bright and garish, there is a vintage puppet theatre and old gaming devices (think: tall wooden love tester and the Zoltar Speaks fortune telling machine in Big(^)). Between the vintage artifacts, the colors, the lights, the people in costumes, and the rest, there is the sense of stepping into a freaky perpetual carnival.

I take a lot of photos in Casa Bonita. It doesn't matter how many times I've been, I take tons of photos and have a special fascination for the puppet theatre. It's wooden, carved with angels and jesters and strange little faces with a zillion layers of paint.

Here is a photo of the jester on the puppet theatre:

From Casa Bonita Interior

That was taken with flash. I don't like photos taken in the dark with an unfiltered flash, and this is no different. The room is normally dark, lit only by tiny light bulbs and some neon, and this not how it looks in real life. Standing in front of the puppet theatre, you notice the dark shadows and the blinking marquee lights that briefly illuminate features on the face of the center jester.
Like this:

From Casa Bonita Interior

Or this:

From Casa Bonita Interior

or this:

From Casa Bonita Interior

or this:

From Casa Bonita Interior

or this:

From Casa Bonita Interior

They aren't perfect... I guess that 'perfect' would be to be able to photograph what I see. Does anyone ever happy with their photographs? I am rarely, unless they are photos of my children or my husband. Those are always perfect.

More of the puppet theatre:

From Casa Bonita Interior

Angels positioned on the side. I am guessing that these were added later, since the jester and the grimacing faces seem a bit more sinister and mean than the angels.

From Casa Bonita Interior

Never wonder why I have a clown phobia (which is called Coulrophobia(^), in case you were wondering. Which you probably weren't. But still.

Clowns.

Yuck.

From Casa Bonita Interior

If you've seen the South Park episode, Black Bart's Cave is mentioned (Cartman: Come on, you guys! Black Bart's Cave!). This skull is carved into the outside of the cave. Inside is a narrow, dark passageway that winds its way around and around.

From Casa Bonita Interior

I don't know why the following few came out the way they did. They look almost double-exposed, but that's not possible on my camera, as far as I know. Even setting the camera on a hard surface didn't fix them, so the camera wasn't shaking.

From Casa Bonita Interior

From Casa Bonita Interior

Close up of a skull on a tree:

From Casa Bonita Interior

I was really disappointed with the next photo. It's of the "Love Tester" machine, which is really cool. All wood and glass and metal. Proto-video game, I guess. Anyway, it's spiffy and deserved a lot better than the out-of-focus blur I ended up with.

From Casa Bonita Interior

Next summer on our annual trek, or sooner if someone visiting who wants to go, I'll take more to add to the hundreds I already have. There is a neat jail cell I'd like to photograph, other old machines, lots of things.

By the way, if you'd like to see the Casa Bonita episode of South Park, here it is at South Park Studios(^). It is South Park, so here's your naughty language warning.

Namaste.

Attack of the Domo-Kun! (Birthday Party, Part II)

In addition to making Totoro cupcakes (see post below), we made Domo-kun brownies for the combined SuperCat/Daniel's dad's birthday/Halloween party. Who doesn't like brownies? Who doesn't like Domo-kun? I looked around the web and didn't see any food that was Domo-Kun related, so I created these. The brownies were a natural for Domo-kun's body, and the rest was easy to figure out.

When I was diagnosed with Celiac and could no longer eat wheat, I stopped baking for a while. I could no longer just "make" our favorites because it isn't possible to simply substitute any one type of flour for wheat flour. Wheat flour gives food a unique flavor, texture, and taste to food that nothing else really has.

When I started baking again, I started with mixes. My favorites are Bob's Red Mill(^), and Whole Foods' 365 private label(^) gluten-free products.

I am a pretty accomplished baker with wheat flour, but still resort to "mixes" once in a while as I learn to navigate gluten-free waters. One great thing about eating a gluten-free diet is that many of the mixes I've used have fewer processed ingredients. This is because who really wants high fructose corn syrup in everything?

The brownies we had for our party were gluten-free from a mix. We added some extra high-quality semi-sweet chocolate, and used real butter, both of which made them taste a lot closer to "homemade".

Gluten free brownies taste at least as good as "regular" brownies. I like to serve mine about 8 hours after they've cooled, to reduce any chance of them having a grainy texture. After about 8 hours, though, no one I have ever served them to could tell the difference.

If gluten-free isn't a concern and you'd like to make these, use your favorite brownie recipe, or the boxed mix of your choice.

About Domo-kun: Domo-kun is sort of short for "dōmo, konnichiwa!" which means "hello, there!" in Japanese, but can also mean "Hello, Domo!" "Kun" in Japanese is an honorific used for young men. So, sort of a pun, and a play on words.

Domo-kun is the mascot of Japan's NHK television station(^), sort of the way NBC has the peacock. We get stuck with a peacock and that goofy CBS eye; the Japanese have this happy fuzzy monster who lives in an underground cave with a rabbit named Mr. Usaji (a play on the Japan words for rabbit "usagi" and old man "jii").

The TV-watching public in Japan get the better deal, I think.

If you decide to go to their website and see Domo-kun at the link provided above, click through his world. At the end, the fine folks at NHK have a bunch of cool Domo-kun wallpaper and Java widgets.

Recently, the US department store chain Target brought Domo-kun to the US in the form of Halloween toys. I was happy to see Domo-kun, but a bit miffed that there were only a limited number of toys, and that almost all of the items used in their advertising (a Domo-kun Halloween pumpkin, for example) were never available in stores.

Not to worry - I'm already working on my own Dono-kun pumpkin for next year. We tend to theme our pumpkins, so next year will be Japanese icons. You'll have to wait to see what else we come up with :)

Yay that Target had anything Domo-kun related.
Phooey that they didn't even have the stuff in their own in-store pictures, though.

Back to the brownies.

After the brownies were cool, we cut them into blocks roughly 1½ by 3 inches.

We placed the cut brownies on a platter and used mini-Tootsie rolls for arms and legs, attaching them by pushing them gently into place on each brownie.

Next, we placed a rectangle of cut strawberry fruit leather where the mouth would be. I cut the fruit leather using clean scissors. Fruit leather or "fruit rollups" are available in pretty much every grocery store on the planet.

Then, we placed two rows of teeth, made from a flattened bit of roled fondant left over from the Totoro cupcakes onto the top and bottom of each mouth. To make the teeth with fondant, thinly roll out the fondant, then use a sharp knife point to cut the teeth. We allowed the fondant to set up lightly covered with paper toweling overnight before we used it to decorate the Domo-kuns.

If you would like to make these but don't want to purchase or make fondant, a rolled out piece of white taffy cut to size would be a fine substitute.

After that, we pushed semi-sweet chocolate chips into his "head" for eyes, and that was it. Done. The one thing I would have done differently is that I would have used brown M&Ms for eyes if I had had them. They are slightly larger and shinier, and would have looking a bit better in my opinion.

Here they are (click each for the larger size)






























This was our menu:

Wild antelope burgers (from my hunting husband)
Organic uncured buffalo dogs
Bratwurst
Tomatoes
Onions
Lettuce
All sorts of condiments
Wheat buns (I just skip the bun if I want a burger and use a fork)
Hash brown casserole
Twice-baked stuffed potato
Tossed salad greens with veggies

Chocolate cupcakes with fondant Totoros

Domo-kun double-chocolate brownies

Several different delicious ice creams.

Everything was wonderful, and we had great company. Dan and his dad did the grilling, his mom made the salad, the hash brown casserole and the twice-baked double-stuffed potato (made after she noticed gluten in one of the casserole ingredients).

We were joined by the SuperCat's grandparents, her aunt and uncle, her two cousins, some dear friends. It was a lovely day to celebrate.

I have to say, these were so incredibly easy that I will certainly make these the next time I bake brownies because they add only a few short minutes to the process, but were so much fun to make and eat.

Namaste.