Syndicated And Daily Television Chronicles #2: Dick Enrico Is Slowly Going Insane
A decent enough proposal, to be sure: Really, why should one buy new when slightly used will do? What a novel concept. Suddenly I'm swayed forever: Dick Enrico, you have shown me the light. There is no reason to purchase new products when used products are just as damn good. Wow. Inspiring words from a quasi-inspiring man.
2nd Wind Exercises supposedly was built from the ground up, by one overweight man with nothing better to do (as all decent business operations ought to be). Someone who knows the simple reality of exercise equipment: Nobody uses it. Tony Little can shove his ponytail up his likely-quaft asshole, thinking half the people who buy his shit are gonna act like a god-damn kangaroo on skis in order to get those tasty abs. So Mr. Enirco opens up a store to sell these used clothes hangers back to you for less price. Being only slightly used, they will do, and you will subsequently realize the futility and hubris of buying new. All's well and good, sure. Business picks up, things are getting more steady, you're needing to expand. You open up more stores and begin to shift your motto a little bit: "Why buy new when slightly used will do, (slight pause for dramatic effect, signifying a breach, if you will between the original saying and the tacked on second half), except when the deals are this good! Damn, nice. Stay true the character of the original but inform old hats and new skullies of the upgraded concept. I salute you, sir. Let it not be said you are not a skillful businessman. No question there.
However, suddenly you've got the need for an advertising campaign in the local area. In case I actually need to remind anyone, advertising is seething evil cancer set to destroy the human soul. Get it involved in anything and it will literally suck the humanity right form your bones. Dick, I don't blame you whatsoever for beginning to air local commercials. It was in your best interest. But you're playing with a petri dish my friend, one which could contain a DNA-destroying mechavirus. Careful.
It begins simple enough. Dick is a somewhat congenial character, personable and oddly genuine in his approach. It's always nice to actually see the head of the company tell you something. You can call them on their bullshit. You can see the yellow in their eyes and find how black their very heart is. Dick was one of us, it seemed, bringing the local-flavor aspect to it, working with low budgets rather than against. A simple bing-bang here's-what-we-do kinda approach. But again, you, Dick Enrico, were a character. It is never quite so simple once a camera is involved, is it? Suddenly we have a face to fit the... whatever the fuck. This man was 2nd Wind Exercising. Almost a local celebrity in a way.
Commercials became more and more Dick-centric. Dick-tagious, if you will. The iconic poofy hair and mustache became transposed in more and more new situations, culminating in what I consider to be one of the creepiest billboards I have ever seen. I got the most horrible feeling whenever I passed by it. I believe this is when I first noticed it: Dick Enrico must be going mad.
As you may be able to tell from this billboard chronology, 2nd Wind gradually got odder and odder marketing techniques. Beyond the creepy Hitler-child-abuse agenda was the reoccurence of skeletons in suits pushin tin from beyond the grave. I mean, come on. No bones about it? You went way out of your way to make a crappy pun there. It doesn't even make sense: Your store has nothing to with bones in any capacity. Where did you possibly come up with that? How that association was even realized... I shudder to think. Dick Enrico on the teevee seemed more and more in your face, like a polite guy trying way too hard to get your attention. But his appearance has a strange context for me now: Who is this sicko pushing babies on me asking me to "start 'em young"? What in gods name are you talking about? Don't you sell exercise equipment? Are you going to steal my child if I enter your store? Are you running a child labor scheme, or is this some sick psycho-sexual role-playing of hot Dick on Baby Dick action? Perhaps it was I going mad and not Dick.
The most recent "anniversary" commercial involves Dick Enrico's floating head transposed onto the members of a barbershop quartet, who yell at me with piano accompaniment for 30 seconds. Suddenly a Dick Enrico head on a bodybuilders body leaves me with a warped mind for the rest of the commercial break. This commercial is evidence of insanity. Dick Enrico went down a difficult road: Local commercials can afford a little bit of unprofessionalism and certainly quirkiness, but these recent efforts are a bit frightening. Maybe Mr. Enrico lost creative control, maybe he never had it. But he's got to be at least a little off his rocker to pose for and approve of pictures of him lording over an infant he has forced a fake mustache on. I hope this doesn't descend any further. Last thing we need is another Menards guy.
2nd Wind Exercises supposedly was built from the ground up, by one overweight man with nothing better to do (as all decent business operations ought to be). Someone who knows the simple reality of exercise equipment: Nobody uses it. Tony Little can shove his ponytail up his likely-quaft asshole, thinking half the people who buy his shit are gonna act like a god-damn kangaroo on skis in order to get those tasty abs. So Mr. Enirco opens up a store to sell these used clothes hangers back to you for less price. Being only slightly used, they will do, and you will subsequently realize the futility and hubris of buying new. All's well and good, sure. Business picks up, things are getting more steady, you're needing to expand. You open up more stores and begin to shift your motto a little bit: "Why buy new when slightly used will do, (slight pause for dramatic effect, signifying a breach, if you will between the original saying and the tacked on second half), except when the deals are this good! Damn, nice. Stay true the character of the original but inform old hats and new skullies of the upgraded concept. I salute you, sir. Let it not be said you are not a skillful businessman. No question there.
However, suddenly you've got the need for an advertising campaign in the local area. In case I actually need to remind anyone, advertising is seething evil cancer set to destroy the human soul. Get it involved in anything and it will literally suck the humanity right form your bones. Dick, I don't blame you whatsoever for beginning to air local commercials. It was in your best interest. But you're playing with a petri dish my friend, one which could contain a DNA-destroying mechavirus. Careful.
It begins simple enough. Dick is a somewhat congenial character, personable and oddly genuine in his approach. It's always nice to actually see the head of the company tell you something. You can call them on their bullshit. You can see the yellow in their eyes and find how black their very heart is. Dick was one of us, it seemed, bringing the local-flavor aspect to it, working with low budgets rather than against. A simple bing-bang here's-what-we-do kinda approach. But again, you, Dick Enrico, were a character. It is never quite so simple once a camera is involved, is it? Suddenly we have a face to fit the... whatever the fuck. This man was 2nd Wind Exercising. Almost a local celebrity in a way.
Commercials became more and more Dick-centric. Dick-tagious, if you will. The iconic poofy hair and mustache became transposed in more and more new situations, culminating in what I consider to be one of the creepiest billboards I have ever seen. I got the most horrible feeling whenever I passed by it. I believe this is when I first noticed it: Dick Enrico must be going mad.
As you may be able to tell from this billboard chronology, 2nd Wind gradually got odder and odder marketing techniques. Beyond the creepy Hitler-child-abuse agenda was the reoccurence of skeletons in suits pushin tin from beyond the grave. I mean, come on. No bones about it? You went way out of your way to make a crappy pun there. It doesn't even make sense: Your store has nothing to with bones in any capacity. Where did you possibly come up with that? How that association was even realized... I shudder to think. Dick Enrico on the teevee seemed more and more in your face, like a polite guy trying way too hard to get your attention. But his appearance has a strange context for me now: Who is this sicko pushing babies on me asking me to "start 'em young"? What in gods name are you talking about? Don't you sell exercise equipment? Are you going to steal my child if I enter your store? Are you running a child labor scheme, or is this some sick psycho-sexual role-playing of hot Dick on Baby Dick action? Perhaps it was I going mad and not Dick.
The most recent "anniversary" commercial involves Dick Enrico's floating head transposed onto the members of a barbershop quartet, who yell at me with piano accompaniment for 30 seconds. Suddenly a Dick Enrico head on a bodybuilders body leaves me with a warped mind for the rest of the commercial break. This commercial is evidence of insanity. Dick Enrico went down a difficult road: Local commercials can afford a little bit of unprofessionalism and certainly quirkiness, but these recent efforts are a bit frightening. Maybe Mr. Enrico lost creative control, maybe he never had it. But he's got to be at least a little off his rocker to pose for and approve of pictures of him lording over an infant he has forced a fake mustache on. I hope this doesn't descend any further. Last thing we need is another Menards guy.
posted by MC Harv at 11:54 PM
1 Comments:
I was scared of those skeleton billboards. Not because skeletons are spooky, but because his hair/mustache scare the shit out of me.
I still can't understand what his slogan means.
-Thomas
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