So our poor beloved Mojo spent most of the holiday season in the hospital, visiting a loved one and just sort of hanging out reading books while they fought a desperate struggle for their life. Which was rather inconvenient for Mojo, I must say. All of the stress of the holiday season, and pretty much none of the joy. Say La Vee.
Things are going better now, thanks for asking. Enough that said loved one was finally discharged, and Mojo found herself, instead of sitting in the hospital reading a VERY INTERESTING BOOK her Favorite Older Sister brought over, buying loads of prescription drugs at the pharmacy as well as a laundry list of OTC medications. Which brings us to Mojo in the aisle for various cold remedies, perusing the bewildering varieties thereof. And all of this drama and intrigue, and Mojo is standing there in the pharmacy aisle, thinking not so much about life and death, nor narrow escapes, nor the inexplicable love one might feel for loved ones, but instead she stares at the various boxes and remembers a television commercial from her childhood.
Now, you kids won't remember any of this, but when elderly, barely continent Mojo was a wee lass there was no internet. We used to have to lick our postage stamps, too, a practice I no longer encourage. Marketing and advertising lacked the sophistication we now enjoy. Instead, product manufacturerererers had thirty seconds to craft these exquisite little mini-dramas that were just sort of accepted wholecloth, and only now, looking back on them, do they look rather silly.