The power of advertising

"I want that," I say, pointing to the television.
"What?" My husband looks up from his laptop and replies with no idea what I'm talking about.
"That," I point.
"What 'that'?"  He's looking at the television, completely confused.
"You missed it."  I'm annoyed.
"What was it?"
I turn to him.  "Frankenstein was painting her toenails." 
His look says it all.  "Frankenstein was painting her toenails," and he repeats it slowly, making sure I really said what I said.  "Whose toenails?"
"Yeah.  Frankenstein was painting that woman's toenails.  She was sitting by the pool.  I think it was somewhere in Florida.  I want Big Apple Red."
"You want Frankenstein to give you a pedicure?"  He's not sure I'm sane.
"Not a pedicure," and I try not to add a tone that implies I would add "duh" at the end of that phrase.  Clearly a complete pedicure would take too long.  I just want my nails done.  By Frankenstein.
"I want you to get someone to dress up like Frankenstein and paint my toenails.  Red."
"Red.  Yeah.  I got that part.  You want me to get some guy to dress up in a Frankenstein costume and paint your toenails?  I just want to make sure I'm getting this."
I honestly don't understand what the big deal is.  "Yes, I want you to get someone to dress up as Frankenstein, and yes, I want that person to paint my toenails." Duh.  "Maybe for Christmas?" I add.
He's deliberate in what he says next.  "May I ask why?"
"It looks like fun."
"Fun," and he trails off.

Am I the only one who finds the idea of sitting pool-side, sunbathing, and having Frankenstein paint my toenails serious fun?  I think not.  The power of suggestion, that this would be absolutely loads of fun, it's so clear to me.  Surely this is why whoever is offering the services of Frankenstein's pedicure skills put it on a television commercial.  Right?

Commercials are meant to sell.  They want us to buy their products and services.  Some do a better job of this than others.  Case in point.  A Japanese credit card company commercial says the following:  "What you've seen on the previous commercial, and what you'll see on the next--buy them.  Use this credit card."  The implication is "buying is good and you should do it through us."  No beating around the bush there.

Another commercial, this time for a stew, first starts out with a Christmas tree with lights flickering out from under piles of white snow.  Star-shaped lights turn into star-shaped carrots in the stew.  Yes, I now want to buy that stew.  I also think star-shaped carrots are now officially a wonderful idea.  Piping hot stew on a warm winter night with star-shaped carrots?  I'm sold.

Commercials for canned coffee make even coffee look appealing.  Those drinking them look happy, caffeinated, and ready to hit the day.  That coffee is my current nemesis makes the fact these commercials catch my eye and make me wonder about my decision to continue avoiding the drink even a stronger point.

Staying with the coffee theme for a moment.....Some canned coffee advertising makes no sense but still makes one stand up and take notice.  I was sitting on a train, absent-mindedly looking around when I see the following:

It'd be great if chicks liked me.
Maybe I'll be a panda.
Chicks like pandas, right?
Pandas are cute.  Chicks like cute things.
But, then again, if I were a panda, I'd end up with a panda chick for life.
Hmm.  That won't work.
Pandas and human chicks don't mix.
Still, worth a shot, maybe?

What this has anything to do with coffee is beyond me, but I did actually get up from my seat and write down the words from the ad.  I didn't buy the coffee, but I had to stifle a guffaw on the train.

I find Japanese advertising to be a mix of subtle, nuanced suggestions mixed with outright "buy this and you too can look like me" statements.  I'm not sure I can completely put my finger on what is so different from the ads I see back in the US but different they are.  Here is yet another new side of Japan I'm seeing.  Why I'm noticing this now is still a mystery to me, but the power of advertising has been a running theme in my life since my arrival.

"I can dress up as Frankenstein and paint your toenails."  Evidently, my husband is still figuring out how to look up where to find a company that sends out Frankensteins to sunbathing women.
"Absolutely not."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why'?"
"I don't see why I can't paint your toenails."
"It's not the same thing."
"I don't get it."
"I want a real Frankenstein."
"You realize," and here he pauses, "you make no sense."
"I do, too,"  and I don't add, "in my world" because even after twenty-plus years there are clearly some things he still doesn't get.  Seriously powerful advertising is one of them.