Pitch, pitch, pitch. That's all they ever do, is pitch.
Every day, my e-mail box is filled with salutations urging me to "let readers know":
● How to lose those holiday pounds.
● How to de-clutter your (pick one) closet, work space, husband.
● How to spice up your (pick one) Super Bowl party, leftovers, husband.
What's reaching a fever pitch right now, of course, is Valentine's Day.
My favorite to date comes disguised as a survey, one put out by a company that sells what your great-aunt Bessie used to call "marital aids."
Marital? Maybe.
But I do have serious doubts as to the validity of this outfit's "nationwide survey." (I'm deliberately avoiding company names or products here. Let 'em take out an ad.)
People are also reading…
Back to the survey. Its findings: "U.S. women are more likely to want to have sex than receive cars, flowers, chocolates, jewelry and lingerie on Valentine's Day."
C'mon. How many of these women were given the opportunity to ask, "What kind of car?"
Or, "How many carats?"
Hey, love may make the world go 'round, but it's the wheels go 'round that gets 'em to the church on time.
Not to mention to work, to the grocery store, to the doctor and the dentist.
So why don't we do our own survey, one that asks:
"Which would you rather have, sex or a reliable car to get Jason and Olivia in to see that orthodonist you made an appointment with six weeks ago?"
I thought so.
As for jewelry, when did it become either/or as far as the "S" word is concerned?
I give you no less an authority on the subject than former sexpot Mae West, who in her first movie answered the coat-check girl's exclamation, "Goodness, what lovely diamonds!" with what would become her trademark line: "Goodness had nothing to do with it, dearie."
Ah well, not all the Valentine come-ons are quite so titillating.
For example, here's one about "romancing your space" and boosting your "room relationship" with some glass candleholders. You don't have a room relationship? What's wrong with you?
Have kids? Why not buy your baby a heart-shaped crib? Only $1,425, plus tax.
And don't forget your teen gamers, who'll love their own special gamer chair ($140). Comes with interior speakers guaranteed to "pump powerful audio waves" and give "spine-tingling vibrations."
What? Are you nuts? What? You can't hear me? Whaaaat?
Least, and we can only hope last, we mustn't forget Fido.
Among the offerings: snakeskin collars ($11.50 to $26.50, depending on the dog's size — and we assume, the size of the snake.)
Dogs and their owners are also fair game for an all-organic Valentine's pitch, featuring such "stress relief" products as:
● Anti-chew spray.
● Flea powder.
● Anxiety-related spray, perfect for traveling, separation, thunderstorms, vet visits and mood swings. (Hey, can humans use this stuff, too?)
● Tidy wipes, for cleaning up "all the little messes dogs get into."
● Anti-nausea relief product. Just the thing for doggy car sickness.
Um, thanks but no thanks. When it comes to Valentine's Day, candy is still dandy for most of us.
