Friday, February 25, 2005

The cool blue wave gives you the cool blue finger

Sound Transit, civility, and my love for raunchy jokes.


Ok, ya think for a minute the ol' fart lost it, looking at the headline.

Yuppers, I will admit it. My name is Bill and I'm........er, wrong pew, sorry.

I like the ribald and joke of questionable color as well as the next person.

But I know when to tell them, and when to tone it down.

Sound Transit does not.

They musta been watching too much of that blue humor on the WB network or somesuch, to think that their current crop of radio ads is consistent with the dignity of a gub'mint agency.

Now, catchy is good, edgy is an excuse for the borderline obscene.

"We wanted to be edgy, says their spinmeister, and you are the only one that has questioned the ads" he says.

Well, ok, I guess. I wasn't questioning them, just their appropriateness for a public agency.

If you haven't heard them, let me cut and paste fer ya.

Suggesting you can do stuff on the bus, or train, or whatever with the big blue wave on it, the commercial, suggests

RIP


Like reading something good for a change…

WOMAN 2: The Pirate of Desire.

WOMAN: Or, romance novels. Sound Transit. Ride the wave.

Now, that isn't the worst, but an old magazine and paperback distributor friend of mine called them romance novels in polite company, bodice rippers in not so polite company, and many contemporary common-taters call them what they really are, female porn.

Something good for a change, indeed.


But, you say, Mark, that ain't squat. Usually takes something really outrageous to gits yer goin'.

Ok, how about this one:

RIP--Reads in part, if you didn't get that the first time.

(REFINED BRITISH ACCENT) Presenting great reads in commuting history. This week we celebrate some of the finest bumper stickers on the road.

-Beer drinkers make better lovers.

-I need someone really bad. Are you really bad?

-Your kid may be an honor student, but you're still an idiot.

-I'm not your type, I'm not inflatable.


MAN: Horn broken. Watch for finger


So, how do you know my type isn't inflatable? Huh? Gubmint been in my bedroom again? My apologies to the hoochie chicks that they gub'mint may have seen there--I thought it was a secure crib, honest.


And horn broken, watch for finger? From a public agency? Gimmeafrigginbreak.


I asked if they ran this past any of the brass, and was assured that it was reviewed and approved by Ms. Earl, Vern Stoner, both very nice folks, and the Board Chair. Who gives a hoot what a Pierce County Lawyer thinks, though.

Lets stay with the very gracious Ms. Earl, who once sat in front of me at a taping for a TV special on transportation. Not being a big fan of the agency who gives you half of what they promised, for twice the price, yet tells you that they are "on budget", with a straight face yet, I found myself kicking her chair all during the taping. Not once did she turn around and give me a dirty look. Master politician, that woman!

And Vern Stoner, her deputy, has a great long record of public service. I worked closely with his peeps when he was running Employment Security. Fine gent, and a good solid public servant.

So, did they have simultaneous brain-farts when they approved this turkey?

Believe it or not, I am seriously offended by this total lack of taste.

The blue wave gives me the blue finger, indeed.

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