#1177 Mid Tan Match

A few different observations today. I’m always interested in how people market their businesses. And how in stressful business times a great strategy is to offer something new or different.
So the other day I’m driving around and I go by this Mid-wife place and it occurs to me: If you are a male practitioner of mid-wifery are you a mid-husband?
Does the wife in mid-wife refer to the person actually birthing the child or the person facilitating the enterprise?
Mid-husband…could be a new marketing opportunity.
Like the tanning place I went by not long after. They had this sign on the top of their main sign. It said, “UV Teeth Whitening.” What a great idea. I’ve seen dentists advertise UV Teeth Whitening. Why not do the same thing at a tanning parlor? You got all the UV tubes right there.
And you could do it two ways. You could have people who are tanning already open their mouth. Or people could lay down fully clothed and you could just tell them to smile.
Might get a little hot in the old bed but hey, maybe they could wear one of those nylon sweatsuits and cook off a pound or two. Tanning, teeth whitening, and water weight removal¾the trifecta of low-effort toning up for a cruise.
The other cool thing about tanning place teeth whitening is when you have whiter teeth you look like you have a deeper tan and vice versa. You’re gonna get double the results.
After I had gone by the tanning place, I heard an ad on the radio. Some place was trying to increase their market position by “matching” prices. “We will match the price of any competitor!”
So, really, if I’m at the competitor and I remember that this place will match the price, is it likely I’ll go all the way across town for a match? I may as well save the gas and just buy it where I am.
Like if I’m already lying in a tanning bed, I might as well save a trip to the dentist and just flash my soon-to-be pearly whites.
Now that’s something to grin about...
America, ya gotta love it.

#1176 Writestat

I got a new household item during the recent cold snap. It was a humidifier. Really cold air makes it really dry and really dry turns my skin to really easily-ripped parchment.
I figured I’d recover the costs of the humidifier in the savings on finger band-aids in no time.
As I was reading the instruction manual on the humidifier, I noticed an interesting phrase. It said the humidifier was equipped with a “technologically advanced digital humidistat.”
I love phrases like that, meant to invoke the power, the mystery, the majesty of technology. Say it in a big booming voice everyone—A Technologically Advanced Digital Humidistat!
But here’s what’s cool. I had only heard the word thermostat before to talk about a self-regulating device or thing. The thermostat on your heater turns it on and off automatically. Stops and starts it without your thinking about it. “Therm” means heat. “Stat” is short for stasis, which is a state of rest achieved through no effort of yours.
What the thermostat does for heat, the humidistat does for humidity.
Does that make your house’s roof a rain-i-stat?
But recently I heard another word about how your body’s automatic appetite control is called an appestat. I like it. They say that many obese people have appestat problems. They don’t lack control. Their body has a broken appestat. Makes perfect sense to me. A bag of Salsa Verde Doritos totally short-circuits my appestat.
What a great suffix to create cool new words. If you want to monitor TV viewing, get a video-stat. Same way with cutting down on excessive internet surfing. Get a web-i-stat. Tiger Woods and Bill Clinton and Warren Beatty? Their problem is they don’t have a sex-i-stat like the rest of us.
Teenager spending all day with his or her earbuds in? Maybe they need an ipod-i-stat. We all know they could use a text-i-stat.
Or how about for the person who obsessively and compulsively buys apps from the iPhone app store? The newest app for your iPhone, the technologically advanced digital app-i-stat.
Or since it’s an appestat for your appetite for buying apps maybe we should call it an appe-appestat...
America, ya gotta love it.

#1175 Cycling Fashion

I’m really impressed with everyday cyclists, except for one thing. I’ll get to that in a moment. I totally admire their commitment to getting out on the road come cold or high water.
Whether it’s raining or sweltering, snowing or blowing, hard-core bicyclists get out there. I’m amazed at how they dedicate themselves to their exercise no matter what.
And maybe it’s not just exercise. It’s highly likely most such cyclists are committed to lowering their carbon footprint as well. Some with carbon-based graphite cycle frames, but that’s okay. They’re burning far less fossil fuel than the rest of us, so no problem.
So since they have everything good going for them, social conscience, exercise ethic, and perseverance personality, I suppose it’s no surprise that one aspect of their character has to suffer along with their seat bone.
Yep, you guessed it, their fashion sense. What is it with some cyclists? I saw one the other day, dressed in tight leggings, a giant tent-like yellow tarp thing, a helmet, and a dental mirror.
I think it was the dental mirror that really scared me. Nothing more unsettling than seeing a guy driving down the road with a dental mirror attached to a helmet, looking for all the world like he has nothing better to do than careen along on a spindly and fragile bicycle, checking to see if he needs to floss.
Is that a poppy seed stuck in my teeth from when I carbed up with my morning muffin?
Add to this the tent-tarp thing itself. Perhaps it was meant to be a cyclist’s poncho. If so, it’s come along way for the dashing vaquero look of Pancho Villa. This yellow monstrosity looked billowing, voluminous, and distinctly northeastern.
Forget about Pancho Villa, he looked like Gordon of Gloucester. Hey Yankee flosser-checker, how about some fish sticks?
So maybe I was wrong after all. Maybe he wasn’t a dedicated cyclist. Maybe I was just witnessing a fun ride around the neighborhood from a visiting Cape Cod dentist...
America, ya gotta love it.