Carol’s Column

It’s hard not to be cynical when listening to TV ads

Is anyone else out there feeling confused? Watch the advertisements on TV and you'll immediately realise that this country and everyone who lives in it is in the throes of change.

Dissatisfied with your lot, colour your hair red and implode. Colour it gold and become an instant icicle.

Brunettes don't have it so lucky. Colour your hair rich brown with hints of red and gold and there's a danger you'll become schizophrenic.

Remember that to enjoy a beer, it's imperative to participate in a vigorous game of soccer, rugby or netball or go for a friendly jostle in a crowded pub or bank.

What's more, if you drink a certain brand of beer, you can suddenly find yourself partying on top of a high-rise building in New York.

If I seriously want to be trendy, I shall dispose of my 10-year-old car with its shot springs and instead go for a sleek job that can drive through snow, rain, over mountains, through rivers, over waves and on dirt roads.

This will show the world that I, the driver of such a miraculous vehicle, am a powerful achiever.

Chew a certain cereal and when you grow up you will be an Olympic sprinter/boxer/swimmer instead of a waitress or heart surgeon, while another gives you energy, invigorates your brain cells and makes you smile.

Or is it banking at a certain bank which turns you into an Olympic sprinter/boxer/swimmer?

On reflection, it's wearing a certain kind of disposable nappy which will guarantee that Olympic gold in 20 years time.

Then there's the deodorant which turns an erstwhile smelly politician into one who can attract 23 people and converse simultaneously with them while doing press-ups in a lift or at the gym frequented by our president.

Another deodorant keeps your outer skin as dry as a desert while you run from Johannesburg to Hong Kong and back again.

And then, to moisten that sandpaper skin, you can cover it with a cream which will make it wrinkle-free in six days.

One million-and-seventy-two knowledgeable women who use a washing powder which takes out the most ghastly stains cannot be wrong, and their lives, which in all probability would have been miserable, are now happy because they have the whitest sheets and teeth on their street.

Be clever and choose a perfume that will seduce a bull from a matador, sit on a germ-free toilet seat and always use a killer bath soap which repels bacteria and makes you sterile.

Then there's the advertisement currently appearing in newspapers nationwide depicting a Before and After scenario with two pictures displaying the upper torso of a naked man.

In the first advert, you are confronted with a chest of woolly, curly, thick, glorious hair.

In the second, the same man - he has identical nostrils – proudly bares his plucked chicken chest with not a single thread of hair to be seen.

Why any man would only want to grow breasts on a chest seems to me one of the century's great mysteries.

Which is why it is a relief that in this wonderful country of ours, serious life goes on.

We are, after all, holding an election in the quite near future on a date to be still decided, but that's not a problem because we're constitutionally bound.

In order to be able to vote in the next elections, we must register with our barcoded ID books still to be issued to many who must register when they receive their barcoded ID books.

And above all, we must pay our TV licences because our country needs us and it's the right thing to do.

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