Musta-seem TV Didja catch the Jan. 30 episode of NBC's hit show Seinfeld? Ace whiner George Costanza, who in the sitcom works for the New York Yankees, was the butt of a colleague's joke as he wolfed down shrimp during a staff meeting.
George later thought of a snappy
comeback, but the colleague had left to work for ``Firestone'' in Akron, so George hopped a jet to go there to insult the guy, shown with other ``company officials'' seated in a board room prominently
displaying a Firestone banner.
Talk about free publicity—and creative license! We all know there's no longer a company named Firestone—in Akron or anywhere. Its successor, Bridgestone/
Firestone Inc. has been based in Nashville, Tenn., for several years. Maybe ``Akron'' just sounded funnier.
And that big jet George took? In real—not reel— life, it could not have landed at the city's tiny municipal
airport, but would have had to put down at the nearby Akron-Canton Regional Airport.
In all, it was some fun publicity for the ``Rubber City.''
Truth in advertising
Part I: The double-entendre
advertisement in an automotive magazine described more than 1,500 bra applications, mentioning that the product's ``two-piece designs provide full coverage protection.'' (So far so good.)
The tailor-fit, ``breathable'' vinyl, it said, allows the bra to be used in rain or shine. (Vinyl? Joggers take note.)
The ad further stated that the ``easy-to-clean PVC grille screens, clear plastic-covered fog lamps and turn signals are just a few highlights that keep bra owners smiling.'' (Smiling—but very weighted down.)
The references were to Cal Trend Automotive Products' ``Cal Bra'' for cars, trucks and sport-utility vehicles. The manufacturer ``guarantees you and your customers quality, service and value!''
Now a woman can snicker when the man in her life says he's got to go put his bra on. . . his car (we hope).Any auto service tech worth his or her diagnostic oats will ask a customer to describe a troublesome sound. Chrysler Corp. has gone a step further.
Its most recent ``Customer One'' brochure, mailed to vehicle owners,
provides a list of noises that ``may help you in describing your vehicle's
condition.'' Among them: Booming. Buzzing. Chirping. Clicking. Knocking. Rattling. Thumping. And let's not forget hissing—called a ``continuous sound which may be somewhat melodious.''
Melodious? Come on. Sounds like bedlam. Whatever happened to that noise popularized by Simon and Garfunkel—the sound of silence?
Hey, big boy...
Kind of for women readers only:
Remember the last time your vehicle broke down on the road? So you called for a tow, and who did the garage send out? Why Otto, of course—the unshaven guy with the dirty dungarees, bad hair, too many tattoos and too few teeth.
Well, if you have the good fortune of breaking down in Miami, there's no need to fear being rescued by a grubby mechanic. Not when there's Hunk Towing Co. We're talking hunk as in Chippendale, not heap.
Company owner Giovanni Amador, interviewed by a publication called The People, reported business is simply
booming, thanks to the firm's muscle-clad staffers, who answer calls of
distress in skin-tight shorts and skimpy vests and specialize in rescuing
stranded women. The former computer programmer claims it's the world's first towing company with guaranteed hunky mechanics who never, ever wear oily overalls and always arrive in a gleaming rescue truck.
Christine Amador, the owner's wife, interviews and hires all the beautiful bods. ``I always tell them on the phone: `If you're not a hunk, don't even bother
coming for the interview,'*'' she said in The People. "We've had several guys
looking for work who just weren't in good enough shape or anything close to being handsome.''
Her criteria: ``I look for a good body, good looks and a good attitude before
anyone gets hired. I also look for their ability to communicate on a friendly and formal basis.''
The company doesn't advertise, but its service has grown by word-of-mouth
references from satisfied female
customers. Some of the hunks-for-hire's competitors, though, aren't all that
enamored with the muscle ripplers.
Bill Cosby again proved why he's not only considered one of the world's premier entertainers, but a well-loved and respected public figure.
During his 75-minute monologue that closed the Feb. 9-12 Goodyear 1997 Dealer Conference in Orlando, Fla., reports said ``The Cos'' kept his audience laughing—and at times near tears. It was only his third public performance since the shooting death Jan. 16 of his son, Ennis, on a Los Angeles freeway.
``People with no children, I feel sorry for them,'' he said at one point. The
audience fell silent, unsure of what to expect. Then the punch line and Cosby eye-roll: ``They think they are missing something.''
Edited by Sigmund J. Mikolajczyk