4 | NOVEMBER 18 • 2021

PURELY COMMENTARY

for openers

Commercially Speaking
I

n my Oct. 14 column, I
bemoaned the fact that
our radio and television
airwaves have become
saturated with nonstop, nails-
on-a-chalkboard-annoying
commercials promoting
sportsbook betting. Thank you
to the JN readers
who reached out
to me since then
to share their
own disdain. I
knew I wasn’t
alone.
I did want
to add a little
addendum to my diatribe that
I didn’t include in my previous
column simply because I had
reached my word count. So
please indulge me for a few
extra words on the subject.
(I’ll make it up to you with
some lighter fare later in the
column.)
Sportsbook betting is
here, it’s legal and I’m not
campaigning to have that form
of entertainment “canceled.
”
But I think it’s worrisome that
at the core of most, if not all,
of the commercials are the
ceaseless bombardment of
incentives to entice you into
gambling.
Sportsbook commercials
woo you with deals like “risk-
free” betting, deals that will
“match your bet” or the lure
of “bonus money,
” just to
name a few. If you weren’t
a gambler before, you just
might be seduced into being
one or, regrettably, feed an
already existing addiction.
The promotional messages are
always followed by a rapid-
fire disclaimer at the end that
includes an 800 number to call

if you’re having a gambling
problem.
Admittedly, sportsbook
commercials aren’t really doing
anything different than, let’s say
pizza commercials, that offer
two pizzas for the price of one.
One is offering you the chance
to line your pockets; the other
is offering to line your arteries.
Both whet your appetite, but
the last time I checked, pizza
commercials that are “feeding”
my deep-dish addiction don’t
offer an 800-help number.
At any rate, I just wanted to
get that additional issue about
sportsbooks off my chest. At
the end of the day, whether it’s
gambling or eating, it really is
all about self-control anyway,
right? I mean that’s why I’ve
never been asked to lead a
Weight Watchers meeting.
OK, I’m going to do an
about face and share what
are currently my absolute
favorite commercials airing
right now. Hands down it’s
the entertaining television
ads produced by Progressive
Insurance.
You’re probably most
familiar with the commercials
that feature “Flo” and her
team of Progressive Insurance
representatives dressed in
their white company aprons
bestowing the virtues of
Progressive’s coverage in a
variety of humorous situations.
I love those. But it’s the
Progressive spots that feature
life coach “Dr. Rick” that leave
me laughing out loud.
Dr. Rick is a so-called
pioneer in “parentamorphosis”
who helps sufferers to
“un-become” their parents. He
takes his “patients” on group

outings
to perform
exposure therapy to help
change their behaviors learned
by years of witnessing their
own aging parents’ awkward
and humiliating habits.
The patients of Dr. Rick I
most relate to are those folks
who have the uncontrollable
urge to communicate with
complete strangers in public
places. Examples include a
woman in an airport who
witnesses someone running late
for a flight and can’t help but
say out loud: “Oh no, someone
should’ve left home earlier.
” Or
the man in a hardware store
who offers unsolicited advice
to another customer looking
at the same display. “If you’re
looking for a grout brush this
is...,
” he says, before Dr. Rick
intervenes and stops him from
talking up the great virtues of
a particular grout brush he’s
holding.
I ... am ... that... grout brush
guy. What can I say? I’m a
kibitzer to a fault and, OK,
I’m starved for attention.
I’ve passed by folks walking
teeny-weenie little dogs and
said: “Lookout, killer dog on
the loose!” which is usually
followed by sympathy chuckles
from the dog owners. I’ll turn
to a parent holding a baby in

line at Starbucks
and say: “I’ll bet
your baby can’t start their day
without that first cup of coffee,
”
again followed by a respectful
“ha, ha, ha.
” Yeah, I know —
pathetic.
But it was a similar “talking
to a complete stranger”
incident at a Starbucks just last
week that may make me think
twice, at least temporarily,
from entering these awkward,
uninvited exchanges.
I had joined a group of
people waiting for their coffee
orders to be finished. Among
them was a mom with her cute
son, maybe all of 5 years old,
who was nattily dressed in a
two-piece suit and shiny black
dress shoes. And my impulsive
self said: “Looks like your little
businessman is getting ready
for a long day at work.
” The
mom smiled and said: “Yes,
thank you, he looks sharp, but
unfortunately. we’re going to a
funeral.
” In Starbucks lingo, I
felt like a Grande Moron.
I have an appointment with
Dr. Rick next week. I hope he
accepts Medicare.

Alan Muskovitz is a writer, voice-

over/acting talent, speaker,

and emcee. Visit his website

at laughwithbigal.com,“Like” Al

on Facebook and reach him at

amuskovitz@thejewishnews.com.

Alan
Muskovitz

PROGRESSIVE.COM