I have been watching the League Championship Series on the telly and an unfortunate byproduct of such viewing is sitting through commercials. As a former ad-guy, perhaps I cast a more critical eye at the attempts to separate me from my dollars than the average slack-jawed, mouth-breathing American consumer. Perhaps.
One of the commercials that has been sticking me like a trident in my eyes (the third point goes in my mind's eye, stabbing the now-bloodied chakra that used to reside in the middle of my forehead) is the Direct TV ad featuring the little girl from Poltergeist. It's not so much the unimaginative content that gets me as the recurring frequency with which this little girl appears to tell me, "They're back..."
Unfortunately, that tag line is exactly what I don't want to hear, because it seems like every time I look up she's sitting there, in front of the television, right before the ghostly hand reaches out of it (I for one can't wait to watch the World Series with Little Fish--that moment's going to be a peach) and tries to grab little CaroleAnn and bring her into the next life.
So I mentioned the ad to Mrs. Fish. "That's an odd choice," she says.
"I know, she's so annoying," I reply. "And she's on every single commercial break."
"No. I meant because she's dead."
"Yeah, she died shortly after making Poltergeist. I forget what from. Odd that they're using her in a commercial."
DO YOU THINK???? What is wrong with people? Who in the Direct TV marketing department decided THIS is going to be our spokesperson/deliverer of the message? Suddenly the slack-jawed troglodytic masses seem to be on a higher road than I, former-ad-man and guilty-by-association purveyor of totally bizarre choices. I'm so sorry, America, for the thoughtless decisions my brothers and sisters of marketing continue to inflict upon you. If they had bleach for the brain, I'd use it in an attempt to unsee and unlearn what I now know. The commercial has gone beyond annoying.
But wait. There's more. How did CaroleAnn die? For that information, I went to the trusty-rusty Google and clicked on the site for Heather O'Rourke. You may want to stop reading here, because it just gets worse. She died from an obstructed bowel, which, I am certain, is a terrible way to go, and especially so at such a young age. I found out how she left us by clicking on the Heather O'Rourke fan site, one of the odder (read as creepier) sites I have ever visited.
From this site, you can click on Find-A-Grave and find out where Heather is buried (LA, really close to Mel Torme and in the same vault as Truman Capote), see items for bid on e-bay (Heather Rourke's First Barbie ad--Buy It Now for $15.00!), or visit the forum to learn important things that people want to know about her (did she like ABBA? How tall was she?) and do other things like read poems dedicated to Heather. I could go on and on, but really, what could I possibly say that isn't better said better by this...