Last night, Connie and I were talking about commercials targeting seniors (i.e. old people). In those thrillling days of yesteryear, each product had its own catch phrase or clever jingle that etched its way into your brain cells never to be forgotten. How many of you remember such clasics as, “Plop, plop, fizz, fizz” and “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin.”
My mother was a soap opera addict. Their progression of ads went something like this; Denture adhesive (we all have to eat), followed by constipation or diarrhea (take your pick), and finishing up with toliet paper (the job is never over until the paperwork is done). What were some of your favorites from the 60s and 70s?
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our advocate for fresh-wiped 100-word stories is Doris Whipple Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the ensemble of practicing fic-titioners in the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“Did you hear about Rosa’s faux pas on New Year’s Day?”
“No. She was going to be in the parade in Pasadena, wasn’t she? What happened?”
“Oh she was in the parade all right—on display in all her glory—if you want to call it that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her float barely made it onto the street when she started shedding her petals—right there on national TV.
“That must have been embarrassing.”
“She claimed it was a wardrobe malfunction, but never blushed, just sat up tall and proud. Now, they’ve named a rose after her—Lady Godiva.”
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Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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