In my line of work, I end up watching A LOT of TV. I see daytime TV, prime time, late night and midafternoon (otherwise known as Springer time). That, of course, means I'm exposed to more than my share of commercials.

Now, I don't mind a well-crafted ad. The Bud frogs killed me, the Taco Bell dog was sheer genius, and I've gotten endless grins out of Volkswagen and Mitsubishi efforts.

Being a curmudgeon-in-training, though, I have a fair list of commercials that, either through bad writing, poor concept or lack of execution, set my teeth on edge. How many of them do you agree with?

First off, can we please get rid of any and all commercials involving the washed-up prop comic known as Carrot Top? If there's ever been a more annoying human created, he at least had the decency not to put himself on the tube. I'm in favor of public flogging, myself.

In the sacrilege department, we have those nice folks at Hebrew National. Now this one pains me because H.N. franks are just about the best on the planet, but their commercials, featuring an unseen Supreme Being voiced by Stuart Pankin peddling weenies, have got to go.

Get the slow boat to wherever ready, because the "zoom zoom zoom" kid, the Dell guy, and all those "cool" Gen-X types skateboarding through the collect phone service commercials are going for a ride. Dude, you're getting marooned!

I've got the oven heating, and the red wine sauce made. All I need now is that AFLAC duck, plucked and ready to cook. I almost let him off the hook for the new ad with Yogi Berra, but the scales just refused to tip.

And, finally, there's an ad that's popped up EVERYWHERE for Hewlett-Packard, which shows a dull-looking fellow wandering through a grocery store, guided only by a photographic list provided by his smirking, Matrix-refugee of a wife. The thrust is that, with Minolta's marvelous technology, '50s stereotype husbands can be led by the eyelids through the incredibly complex grocery selection process.

Picture this: make the SAME ad, but relocate it to a Home Depot and switch the genders of the participants. There would be cries of discrimination and a societal upset that would no doubt lead to Minolta products being heaved into Boston Harbor. Why, then, is the current form of the commercial OK? Can someone explain this to me?

Effective Advertising

Some folks in Providence, R.I., have the right idea when it comes to advertising. There, overlooking Interstate 95, is the Big Blue Bug, emblem of New England Pest Control. Millions recognize the 2-ton fiberglass-and-steel termite, and now, in advance of a restoration project, the bug is going on tour to meet its adoring public.

The bug was the brainchild of ad man George Cardono, who had not previously shown a predilection for creating 60-foot insects for his clients. He took a big gamble, and spent $30,000 of New England Pest Control's dough to build the Bug back in 1979.

It was an unqualified hit. The Big Blue termite has appeared in movies and on Oprah's little show, and has been featured in the book "Roadside America." At Christmastime, it's decorated with a red nose and many lights, making it look like some Gahan Wilson holiday painting.

The Bug is going to undergo some rust repairs and other minor fixes, but the owners promise that it will not be mothballed. *rim shot*

THAT's Not A Croissant

Like so many of us who've traveled since Sept. 11, Marc Danselme (pictured, right), a French national living in Washington, was a bit put out when asked to remove his belt at a security checkpoint at Miami International Airport. According to the arrest report, he dropped trou and exposed his Little Frenchman, asking "is this enough?"

He was arrested and charged with prohibited conduct. That's a pretty nifty-sounding offense, actually. I've always wanted to get arrested for something that sounded cool ... like "excessive dangerousness" or "illegal coolness." Unfortunately, at this point, the only offense I'm liable to commit is in the eyes of the all-you-can-eat buffet owner.

Reading Is Fundamental(ist)

In case some of you still think short-sighted, tiny-brained, pseudoreligious bigots only exist south of the Mason-Dixon line, consider the case of Cromwell, Conn.

Several residents there have raised a hue and cry about the presence in the school library of "The Witch of Blackbird Pond," and "The Bridge to Terabithia," both winners of the Newbery Medal, given yearly to outstanding examples of children's literature.

It should come as no surprise that Bridget Flanagan, the Morals Cop heading up this pigheaded little enterprise, has no children in the schools that she is trying "purify." She is that most dangerous of all societal protectionists: the one who's going to save us from ourselves. To folks like Bridget, we're all just lost sheep who need her firm hand on our halters to steer us safely into the paddock and avoid anything that might, God forbid, make us think or do anything else potentially dangerous.

Bridget and her group are also bent out of shape about school field trips to the Salem Witch Museum. At least she's consistent. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's an inconsistent bigot.

The Mongo Summer Movie

This week, the Mongo summer movie pick returns with a personal favorite, one that's got star power, tons of laughs, and sterling special effects.

I'm lying, of course.

"Dark Universe" is a putrid cesspool of outer-space contagion fiction, with a cast whose leading light is Joe Estevez, uncle of Emilio Estevez and Charlie Sheen.

The characters stumble through a "swamp" which looks suspiciously like someone's back yard, periodically encountering clumps of alien fungus and an astronaut who's been transformed by the fungus into a creature with all the menace of a "Rugrats" cartoon and all the mobility of a Madame Tussaud work.

The soundtrack is the usual "cousin with a Casio keyboard" mash of ascending chords and warbling bass lines, and the lighting is, well, convenient ... such as when the monster's first victim is found in the dark woods, in the ONE beam of moonlight shining through the trees just brightly enough to show the poorly done marks of the beast.

If you're an MST fan, or just like to consume adult beverages and mock bad movies, this will be 83 minutes of your life well-spent. If, however, you're expecting a film with such fripperies as a coherent plot and good production values, you'll be bitterly disappointed.

Got a movie you'd like to see featured here? Want to tell me about something odd going on in your corner of the world? Drop me a line.