A Very Ad Day

Perhaps you woke up to an acne-creme commercial shouting at you on your clock radio. If not, it was probably something similar to that. It seems like almost half of radio is advertising.

Maybe, after you woke up, you thought you'd catch some news on the morning show. There's a pretty good chance of it — only a third of TV is advertising — but, instead, you see an interview with a sports celebrity who keeps mentioning a particular brand of athletic shoe, which, judging from the number of times he's brought it up, must have been what made him the athlete he is today. He seems sincere. Maybe if you bought some expensive athletic shoes you'd be healthier too.

Or maybe not. So, on your way to work, you figure you'll pop in a CD to avoid all the ads on the radio. Sneakers are expensive, after all. And the CD just might be that one with the cover art which tells you that the coffee shop you got it at not only makes the best coffee around, it's also pretty good at selecting music for your sophisticated lifestyle.

On the other hand, maybe you won't listen to anything at all. Maybe you'll just watch the impressive skyline — filled with architectural wonders that would have made the ancient Egyptians envious — but billboards block your view every few hundred yards. All you can see are ads for the radio stations you're trying not to listen to.

At work, the walls around you are emblazoned with posters that remind you of what your corporate values are. Apparently, you're very concerned with performance metrics and stock prices. So, during your break, you figure you'll catch up with your colleagues by browsing through the trade journal. But part-way through that featured article, you realize that it's mentioned a specific product several times in each paragraph. Oops, it only looked like an article. It's actually, according to the fine print at the top of the page, an advertiser-sponsered "supplement" to the magazine. Well, you're sure it will help you with your performance metrics anyway. And someone's stock prices are bound to go up because of that ad.

After work, you think about catching a movie, but then remember that the last time you were at the theater, you had to sit through a stream of clothing and soda commercials before the theater started showing "trailers" for upcoming movies. You try to remind yourself that this only makes the film you want to see much less expensive for you. Once they decide to let you see it, that is. But, wait, were ticket prices really more expensive before they started pushing ads at you through the silver screen?

You suppose you could catch the sunset at the public park, but the last time you were there, the pigeons had splattered all the billboards on the benches with their excrement. You're not sure you can blame them for that. The benches actually look better that way, but you still don't want to sit on them.

Well, if you hurry, you should be able to spend this week's salary on a sports game, but you can't remember the name of that new stadium the voters in your city volunteered to pay for. It has something to do with motor oil. No, wait, it's named after an airline. And you're sure that makes sound financial sense. Just like you're sure that it's very sensible for the announcers at the games to continually remind you that penalties and scores are sponsored by a couple other corporations.

Maybe you should catch the game at a neighborhood bar. You could use a drink, and the ads on TV that stop the games every ten minutes or so are much more entertaining than the ones they show on the scoreboards at the stadium. While you're there, a couple next to you asks if you would take their photo with their new camera. You do, of course, and then they tell you about how happy they are with the camera. You congratulate them on their purchase and ask how much a camera like that costs. They're not sure, because, for them, the camera is swag. The manufacturer gave it to them if they would send in a weekly report documenting the number of people they've shown the camera to. They'd be happy to tell you which retail outlets in the area stock the camera, though.

Suddenly, you feel like going home. On your way back, you pass a couple of city buses painted like billboards. Then, you step over the pile of junk mail the postman has pushed through your front door's letter slot and answer the phone, which has been ringing since you got out of the car. The caller apologizes for phoning so late, but he was sure you'd want to hear his very important message about a brand new product. You try to remind him that your home isn't his retail space, but it turns out that the caller is a machine.

You disconnect your phone, so you can get some sleep, and worry a little about when marketers will figure out a way to insert product placement in your dreams.