I’ve been violated by Cologuard
I’m watching TV and I am all about that damn talking box, ok? What I am NOT about, is people singing about turning 45 and pooping in a box to the tune of Frank Sinatra’s My Way.
The talking box comes for us all. I’m grateful frankly that I even have that option. But the implication that just because I am middle aged I am suddenly on the downside of life’s hill and am now listening to crooners and big band hits? You’ve gone too far, my Gen Z advertising friends.
I may be 44 but I’m still cool, goddamnit. Yes, they play Nirvana on the classic rock station and I make noise when I sit down (and stand up), but I like inappropriate shirts and I have dumpster fire earrings. I just got in trouble for swearing at work. I drive an orange car. COOL. God. DAMNIT.
There are plenty of other songs available, not to mention singers who are still alive, much cooler than I am, and who also still need to be checked for colon cancer. You may consider using one of them for your commercials.
Snoop Dogg’s “Drop It Like It’s Hot” is extremely appropriate. Poop is hot. Drop it in the box.
How about “In Da Club”? “Go Shawty, it’s ya 45th birthday/we gonna poop in a box like it’s your birthday/we gonna sip Bacardi like it’s ya birthday/colon cancer don’t give a fuck that it’s ya birthday!”
Wu-Tang? Colon cancer ain’t nuthin’ ta fuck with!
Look you don’t even need a song. The commercials write themselves.
Int: Living room. GRANDFATHER in the recliner, GRANDDAUGHTER sitting on the arm.
GRANDFATHER is stereotypical old man: wispy hair, age spots, big glasses, tractor tire ears, plaid shirt, suspenders. You’ve seen him before.
GRANDDAUGHTER is middle aged but still cool and spry. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt, with brown hair in a pony-tail. She and GRANDFATHER are in animated conversation.
GRANDFATHER: You’re no spring chicken yourself
GRANDDAUGHTER: Yeah, my doctor says it’s time to get checked for colon cancer
GRANDFATHER: Back in my day, they used to shove a camera up your keyster!
GRANDDAUGHTER: (chuckling, rolling eyes) yeah, ok, Grandpa
GRANDFATHER: …and it was on a big long hose…and the doctor…he controlled it with a joystick, like a video game
COLOGUARD BOX appears by GRANDDAUGHTER. They look at one another, like “can you believe this guy.”
GRANDFATHER: And they give you these drugs like Michael Jackson used to take. I probably got violated. You wouldn’t even know…they…(spying COLOGUARD BOX)…what the hell is this?
COLOGUARD BOX: It’s me, COLOGUARD
GRANDFATHER: Did you slip me some of those Michael Jackson drugs or is that a talking box with arms and legs?
GRANDDAUGHTER: (still chuckling) No Grandpa! It’s Cologuard! You don’t have to have colonoscopies anymore if you’re at low risk for colon cancer, like me! I just poop in this box
COLOGUARD: And away I go!
GRANDFATHER: Wait, you poop into that talking box? You just let her shit into…what even is that? Your head? Your body?
COLOGUARD: I make checking for colon cancer easssssyyyy!!
GRANDFATHER: Whoa…that’s some kinky shit.
GRANDDAUGHTER: You see Grandpa? Cologuard sends the results to my doctor and if everything’s clear I get on with my life. No prep, no drugs, easy!
GRANDDAUGHER and COLOGUARD high five.
GRANDFATHER: Maybe I’ve been alive too long.
END SCENE.
See, I just wrote a whole commercial and no one was patronized except an old man having colonoscopy flashbacks and possibly the Cologuard mascot. But that was TWO people. OK it was ONE fictional person and a mascot, rather than TWO ENTIRE generations. We’ve moved beyond colonoscopies. And we’ve moved beyond Sinatra, my friends. It’s time to do better.
For more fun, please see my favorite Cologuard parody from Zebra Corner: If Commercials were Real Life – Cologuard
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