The reasons for preventing tobacco companies from pushing their products on television are pretty cut and dry. Still, there was a golden age in advertising when they were allowed to use cartoons and pay celebrities to endorse their deliciously addictive and deadly merchandise. With a little help from The Flintstones, and some good old fashion chauvinism, even Winston seemed FaF.
If that commercial aired today, there would be 12 year olds strutting around chain smoking cigs, telling their mothers to get back in the goddamn kitchen and make them a sandwich. Kids would be getting tossed from Little League games for lighting up on the mound, then blowing smoke in the umpires face and calling him a cocksucker. We’d have killed bin Laden on 9/12.
Can you imagine a world where you’re encouraged by your TV to suck down smokes while you waterski? I didn’t even know they had menthols in the 50s, and nobody told me people were going around tandem ski-flirting, playing grab-ass and buzzing hard.
In the 80s, Earl Cambell was ramming the pigskin down d-lineman’s throats, rocking 3-inch inseams, calling people “Skoal brotha,” and throwing in tiny pinches like some type of pussy the entire time. Apparently, my whole life is a lie. “Got the sea, the breeze, got my Skoal, nothing’s gonna make me move…”
“…Except the urge to slam the first piece of poon I see.” You fucking liar, Earl. I mean, look at that lip. I’ve seen shitfaced sorosties feeling a little experimental throw in bigger pinches than that. At least Bill Dance was keeping it classic in ‘85 with Levi Garrett, who apparently hasn’t changed their packaging in 26 years.
On this, the 5th of May, 2011, buy American, and remember that more doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarette.