Hubby Dre gets irritated at those Progressive Insurance TV commercials in which life coach Dr. Rick is trying to steer students away from becoming like their parents
This series shows no sign of being canceled. The mildly amusing commercials include sequences in which one student's cutesy "No fussin, no cussin' ... " piece of home wall-sign art is dumped unceremoniously into the trash by Dr. Rick; in which he and his students are at the movie theater and he rebukes the woman urging everyone to use the restroom while they have a chance — "Even if you don't have to go, you should try" — and in which, during Dr. Rick's own book-signing, one motherly type who brought snacks forces a morsel into the coach's mouth. Dr. Rick later has to rebuke the guy who'd appointed himself "line monitor." (The latest commercial seems kind of a stretch. Surely no real-school-era parent has ever washed or name-labeled their outside trash bins?)
The thing that chaps Dre's hide about these commercials is what he sees as Dr. Rick's condescending attitude.
"OK, this is a freezer, not a time capsule," Dr. Rick tells one guy in reference to his refrigerator freezer stuffed with, well, stuff that's been there for a bit. "We don't need to print the internet," he tells the same guy, who has printed out a wealth of insurance-quote info on the Progressive site. "We all know where the bathroom is and how to use it," he tells the bathroom-use exhorter at the movie theater.
All the while, Dre is muttering various ways he'd tell the guy where to go and how to get there. Does no good to point out that the dude on the "elevator etiquette" commercial does sorta need some guidance.
These commercials are predicated on the cliched assumption that, sooner or later, we all morph into our parents ... to the point that we'll literally stop in the middle of a sentence or an action and say, "Oh my goodness; I'm turning into my mom/dad!" Conditioning is a thing.
"The way families transmit their traditions and behaviors is through family scripts," writes Dr. Assael Romanelli in a 2020 Psychology Today article, "Why Do We Behave Just Like Our Parents?"
"These scripts describe the acceptable ways to behave, speak, and even think. It is essentially the shared expectation of how life should be," according to Romanelli.
What an ironic journey we've been on. In the good ol' days, we criticized or laughed at older folk who acted younger than they were ... wore short/tight clothes, imitated the slang language of the young, hit on or dated people half their age.
In recent years, though, sayings such as "50 is the new 30" have popped up and we've switched to applauding youthful-looking oldsters who have cared for themselves and dress to show off their efforts ... grandmothers successfully rocking bikinis and minidresses along with grandfathers who look good in sleek suits with slim-fit pants, smart fedoras and hipster beards.
I fully subscribe to this philosophy (well, in my case, it'll be "61 is the new 35" as of Feb. 17). It's never too late to do what you can to be healthy and live your best life. Life over 50/60 doesn't have to mean floral housecoats, chain-bearing glasses, knee highs with dresses, hair nets, or high-waisted man pants complete with a sandals-and-dress-socks combo. We can give off a youthful sartorial vibe, preferably on the side of good taste. But to look and feel good as we do so, we've got to do the work to avoid the health-related mistakes our parents made, largely due to not knowing any better. Today we have been blessed with a wealth of information on the benefits of moving our bodies, eating healthfully and avoiding substance abuse.
And — this is really important — maintaining a positive, life-loving attitude. Rod Serling addressed that attitude in one of his most iconic Twilight Zone TV episodes, "Kick the Can." Rather than sit around and declare his life over at the rest home he'd been relegated to, protagonist Charles believes in acting youthful to be youthful ... unlike friend and fellow resident Ben. Charles inspires a group of his other fellow residents to reclaim life, and their youth, by sneaking out one night and playing the old game Kick the Can. The group ends up actually turning into kids again. Good for Charles!
There are several Instagram accounts I have followed as notes and reminders to self. One is a group of men calling themselves the Silver Fox Squad. Another is that of Ernestine Shepherd, the world's oldest living female competitive bodybuilder, who's in her 80s. And there's Chef Babette Davis, a septuagenarian fitness enthusiast whose two-piece swimsuit photo went viral and whom I learned of via AARP newsletter.
May all of us oldsters take on those best aspects of youngster life. We, ahem, may still run afoul of a Dr. Rick by collecting garden gnomes, clapping after the movie is over and washing trash cans. But so what, if we can outrun him on the treadmill and look good in our hip clothes, while he's fussing?
We can just condescendingly challenge him to a game of Kick the Can.
You can see extra Dr. Rick stuff, including extensions to those Dr. Rick commercials, on Youtube. Meanwhile, hit me up at: hwilliams@adgnewsroom.com