Thursday, April 16, 2009
He's been *somewhat* of a running joke on this blog since I've reported about him time and time again but this last mention takes the cake:Yup, the rumor that I helped circulate last summer has come true. Billy Mays, the man whose voice makes you change the channel yet whose straight oblivious bearliciousness makes me weak in the knees, is getting his own reality show!
Oh Billy, congrats!
The show is called Pitchmen and follows Mr. Mays as he does what he does best: Make infomercials about cleaning supplies. Look, if Groomer Has It (the show about America's Best Dog Groomer) can be a show then Billy is entitled to have his shot at it too. Plus, if you watch his youtube videos here and here. You can tell that the guy is fun and has a good sense of humor (unless he turns out to be some right wing Christianist which wouldn't surprise me but would cause me to reneg every
fantasy nice thing I've said about the guy.
The nation's preeminent pitchman for hire, the 50-year-old Mays is the emphatically gesticulating star of nine commercials for nine products, now in heavy rotation. And he's just getting started. A handful of new shoots will commence as soon he's back on his feet, and big-league advertisers like Pepsi have started calling, presumably to put his unironic style to some irony-intensive use. Plus, he recently moved into health insurance, as spokesman for a company called http://icanbenefit.com.
But wait. There's more.
In the fall, Mays will start taping a TV reality show, "Pitchmen," which will follow the creation of a two-minute commercial, from start to finish. But with many of his ads appearing 400 times a week, often at two minutes a pop, Mays could already be the single most ubiquitous figure on television today, measured purely in face time. His only competition comes from actors in perpetual syndication, like Seinfeld and Bart Simpson.
Now, don't get me wrong. Billy Mays is as annoying to me as he is to everybody else, but come on- you're telling me if you ran into him on the roof deck of The Eagle, shirtless bearded with a beer in his hand, on some hazey summer night and he told you he was from Maine and worked in Cleaning Supply Distribution you wouldn't go home with him?
Yeah, sure you wouldn't...
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Don't stop - get it, get it.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
The underground transfer between the L Train and the 123 Trains is approximately 200 steps. I made the mistake of counting one day as a means to pass the time during my every morning commute. Now those steps are all I can think about. Every morning I'm plagued with the thought of how I am going to spend those 200 steps.
There are the mornings when I study people. The way they walk, the swagger in their step, the shoes they decide to wear. How women can spend lifetimes walking in high heels and how people regard or disregard the man selling poetry and the youth strumming his guitar. I'll half cruise the men walking against me. Men wearing suits or dirty jeans and work boots. There are those who still carry lunch boxes, possibly still sitting on steel beams, overlooking an ever expanding city and there are those still carrying briefcases - what these days cannot fit on an iphone, I don't know - yet the briefcase remains in hand, a trench coat flowing behind them.