At the beginning of the summer, when the TV gods failed and the digital switchover took place, the girls discovered Qubo. And I discovered that it’s possible to loathe a TV channel with a loathing so powerful it makes Chutes and Ladders sound like fun.
While the shows are sub par, what I hate most are the commercials. Oh, the commercials. They’re not even for stuff I might possibly find useful. In my opinion, everything advertised on Qubo falls into one of two categories: a) stupid kid stuff (Pillow Pets, Chixos, Moon Sand, and Bendaroos all fit here), or b) stupid adult stuff (the Snuggie tops this one, but there’s also Gold Envelope, Heel Stick, and the Cell Phone Wallet, which the girls think I need.)
I've mentioned before how I explained the possibility that you can’t always trust advertising, and how I demonstrated "before" and "after" (actually, it was “fat” and “skinny”, but same difference) for them. Well, yesterday afternoon I happened upon my children gathered around the TV set, deeply involved in an ad for a hair restoration product. And commenting out loud. “No way that’s the same person!” “Oh, you can totally tell that’s a different head!” “Look, the hair’s not even the same color!”
The small comfort in this new additude is that in all likelyhood they’ll always be safe from Nigerian bankers.