So my husband, Jorge, has been out of town for a couple of days. He is gallivanting around around Fresno and San Fran with his sister and dad, oohing and ah-ing over giant trees, also called "Redwoods" by sticklers for scientific nomenclature. I do not share their passion for "big ol' trees," as I like to call them, so I've been picturing them running around the trunks playing tag like kids, and that is cracking me up. I do slay myself.
Today they are in San Francisco. I asked him if they were going to eat some of that famous San Francisco "treat." You have to be of a certain age to get that joke, and if you are of that certain age, you may not remember why you get that joke, but it was a tagline for Rice-a-Roni, an American staple in the 1960's.
Oh, that sassy jingle: "Saute and simmer--the flaaaavor can't be beat. Rice-a-Roni, the San Francisco treat!" And then there was an exciting trolley that went "ding ding!"
Yeah, just like that: "ding ding!"
Ending a commercial jingle with a trolley going "ding ding" was sorta sassy in the 60's.
Perhaps you'd actually like to hear the Rice-a-Roni jingle. Warning: You'll be singing it all day. Or night, if you're awake like me.
His absence has an "up" side and a "down" side.
The up side is that he purchased my birthday gift without having actually shopped for it because I saw something on sale and snatched it up, thinking that I will explain myself by telling him he is now relieved of birthday buying duty. He's welcome. When it comes to purchasing clothing or jewelry, I tend to live by that wise old maxim, "It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission."
The down side is that my insomnia has grown worse. Last night I was awake until 2:00, and then I woke up early this morning like someone had put a branding iron to my feet.
It doesn't help that when the man of the house leaves, the reasonable facsimile of a dog, Zoe, goes on extra-orange-red-hyper-alert.
Her motto: "If a strange ankle should appear, never fear, for I will bark until I pierce the intruder's ear. Drum." And mine along with the intruder's, apparently. I am sure that deafness and nervous tics are a small price to pay for that kind of protection.
So ... insomnia + safe thoughts--i.e. the Rice-a-Roni jingle = my excellent joke for Jorge about the San Francisco Treat.
Moral: one person may be able to break into my house, but it takes a village to inhabit my insomniac brain.
By the way, check out this old ad I found while researching Rice-a-Roni. Oh, the irony: "Old Crow."
So what about you? Do you have a favorite vintage commercial?