Since I have apparently been confused with a billboard (note to sittercity.com: thank you for COMPLETELY missing the point), I thought I would offer up a little space for a brand of my own choosing.
To call it advertising would be wrong. I don't mean to promote anyone, and they certainly do not need my help, anyway.
To say "choosing" misleads a bit as well, since the smothering presence of Disney in my waking life is certainly not by my own choice. I've always been more of a Sunday comics type.
Yet there it is, hanging in the air everywhere we go: the sounds of Disney, audible even at this moment. Two rooms away, my youngest sits mesmerized in front of a chirpy little time travel movie she has watched easily a dozen times already.
They are way beyond the princess of it all, this generation. We're talking secret pop stars, twin moppets living in hotel suites, high school wannabes...forget about "just be yourself." Be a superstar!
Interesting change of message, given the examples set by certain former mouseketeers...
I am not embarking on a campaign here. Overall, I don't really have a problem with any of these cutesy little actors, all of whom have apparently also recorded an album of cutesy little pop songs. This morning, when my oldest commandeered the car radio, I playfully cautioned her that she may find herself sprouting the buds of balloon-like ears pretty soon.
Which brings me to the cautionary tale (pun intended) of this post for the Mouse and his makers. Before turning up the volume, this superloyal Gen-D child asked me:
"So who invented Disney, anyway?"
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