Wednesday, July 24, 2013
There are a lot of products sponsoring drivers these days. A lot of teams have one primary sponsor that supports the team, but leaves some races open for other sponsors to shine on the hoods and rear quarter-panels. It’s a rare thing these days for a primary sponsor to fund every single race.
There are also a couple of drivers that won’t allow me to spend my money on their sponsor’s products… A couple of drivers that irritate me to the fullest degree with their ass-hol-ism are Kyle “The Shrub” Busch and Kurt “Jerk” Busch.
Those two are the best argument for ass-hol-ism being hereditary.
So I won’t visit any Furniture Row stores, I won’t be sleeping on a Denver Mattress, snacking on M&M’s or Combos, putting an Interstate battery in my vehicles, chewing on Doublemint, or drinking Monster Energy products.
I love M&M’s and especially those of the dark chocolate variety. But I will not purchase them because of who they sponsor.
I even gave up one of my favorite fast food joints, Sonic Drive-In, when they sponsored Dale Earnhardt. And when Miller was sponsoring “Jerk” Busch, it hurt not having some High Life in the beer fridge at all times.
I recently purchased a product that caused me to feel a little embarrassment at the check out line… It was a stick of Axe deodorant. And later, I purchased some shower gel.
At the age of 46, I feel too old buying Axe products.
They aim their advertising at 20 somethings and younger. Their ads give the impression that if you’re using their product chicks will flock to you as if one hundred dollar bills are pumping out of your pores. That, of course, seems to appeal to desperate teenage boys.
Have you smelled an average teenage boy lately?
Not only is that desperation you smell, but it’s also Axe deodorant, shower gels, and body sprays getting into your nasal passages. A lot of young men seem to over compensate themselves with Axe products and they peg the smell-o-meter in the red “reek” range.
But keeping with my tradition of supporting my NASCAR driver, I bit the bullet and made it through a check out lane with Axe products.
I didn’t notice any weird looks from the cashier. I looked around for “right on” knowing nod from a nearby desperate teenager and saw nothing. And I failed to see any super-sexed-charged women coming towards me with a ravenous appetite for love.
In a way… It was kind of a let down.
The embarrassment didn’t last long at all. No one wanted to peel my clothes off, use me, and leave me with satisfied exhaustion.
But I do smell good.