For the past few months I've been immersed in babyland. Diapers. Formula. Nursery water. I know, right? Nursery water? What's that? It's super-purified, hyper-clean water for babies. How come everyday peeps don't get this? I don't know. I haven't asked. I continue to refill my aluminum water bottle (so as to avoid any estrogen-like-hormone long-term side effects said to be linked to drinking from plastic water bottles).
Anyway, so yes: babyland. (It's not called that but that's how it feels).
For Publix, I've been promoting the features and benefits of diapers (supersoft, stretchy, new and improved leakage, that kind of thing) and, perhaps most important, their low cost (just as affordable as Wal-Mart and Target, thank you). Along with this, I've been dishing up spoonfuls of applesauce and peas. And featuring stock photography of happy babies covered in pudding and other messy food items. Ooh, that reminds me: wipes. Those, too.
Appealing to the "Gen Yers" is the goal. Wow, I know. They seem awfully young to me. My brother, age 24, a Gen Yer. But after some Wikipediaing, I discovered that my own boyfriend could very well be, and likely is, a Gen Yer as well. He does, sort of, kind of, (I'm sure I could make a convincing argument thereof), somewhat straddle that fine generational line. And truth be told, okay, I've never identified with the generation so not affectionately deemed X. But I do like Pearl Jam. And I do appreciate what Larry and Sergey have done for making information so readily available to us all. And while I share the exact same birthday as Winona Ryder, I also identified almost completely with her character in "Reality Bites" (minus the "doily-style" dress and the bralessness). I would also use toilet paper as a coffee filter. Without question. But I just don't feel as mature and/or responsible as my fellow Xers. And certainly not as jaded.
I digress. per usual.
OK, so my interest was piqued today when, perusing other bloggers who are so much more keenly dialed in than I....(I do like to think I, at least occasionally, have my finger on the pulse. On the pulse of something other than my cat's incessant purr box. But maybe I don't).
Anyway, while I've been doing all this baby promoting and baby product promoting to a group of people who, in my opinion, should still be backpacking around Europe, having torrid and wild affairs (while practicing it safely, yes, of course) and drinking and smoking like I did until it's really, really uncool, meanwhile.....other, smart, inventive people have been telling the generation even younger than that one (the children having children group) to think about some shit first.
Literally.
Here's what I discovered during my blogging snooping. This gross (but, let's hope, effective) campaign to banish teenage pregnancy. This, apparently, 'Scratch 'n Sniff" concept they slapped on bus stops (click on the image to make it bigger):
I wonder who sniffed it. It's like your buddy declaring: dude, that fart reeks, smell it. (I have had many guy friends, not to mention I am the only girl in a family of four boys). Or when you try something god-awful out of a can/bottle/tube/microwaveable entree and say wow, that's bad, oh my god, taste it.
Why would you?
But you're curious.
Right?
Like Eddie Murphy said in Raw all those years ago (I'm dating myself now) that we all like to "rate" our farts. Let 'er rip and then let the rating begin.
Anyway, digression. Once more. Always.
But, really, as gross as this campaign is, maybe it'll work.
Will be interesting to see how this shit turns out.
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