Jun 2, 2004

38 Songs of Hope

Okay. I really want them to find a cure for Parkinson's Disease, too. But do they have to commit brand suicide? There's a benefit CD out now called (get this) ParkinSong. And I'm not saying you shouldn't buy it. In fact, please, accept my invitation to buy it right now. But you must agree: this is a very disappointing naming strategy. Even if it's the best various artists collection ever made, what should you say when your friend asks you what disc is playing when you pick him up from the bus station? You can't very well say, "ParkinSong!" And you certainly can't say it with the same verve that used to embody the name "Freedom Rock!" Marketing people (and I speak as one of them) like to come up with cutesy names. They really do. I don't know if it all got started with Sniglets or if it dates all the way back to the days when everything ended in "o-Matic," but making fun, punny product names that merge two well-known meanings is like THE most popular thing to do, third perhaps only to putting a starburst on the package that says, "New!" and just outright lying. But I don't think any word benefits from having "Parkins" added as a prefix, especially when it's the "Parkins" that comes from the word "Parkinson's." Try it. Parkinsburger. Parkinstastic. Sir Parkinsalot. It really does less to cheer a sentence than even the most optimistic ad wizard might estimate.

Gosh, 38 songs. That's a lot of hope. You can't argue with the value anyway.

I drove down to San Diego tonight to see Dave Chappelle at UCSD. Great show. Love that guy. You know the drill. Buy all of his DVDs. You won't be disappointed. Unless you're some sort of human fount of disappointment. And for you, every sunrise is like a slap in the face, so buy the DVDs anyway so that you will have something new to moan about. Anyway, as I was getting onto the 10 from the 405 a short while ago, his giant tour bus was right in front of me. I had only just seen it a few hours previously, walking back out to the car after the show. And then there it was again. Like in that movie Duel. Only in front of me rather than behind me and not apparently wanting to murder me or Dennis Weaver. Strange coincidence. Nothing came of it. I didn't lean out my window and flash him my boobs or anything. I was driving, for heaven's sake.

posted by Mary Forrest at 1:21 AM | Back to Monoblog


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