PSA: From a Non-Paid, Attorney Spokesperson

       Just when I thought I would never see it in print, I recently came across an impressively cogent and accurate article, the reading of which confirmed that I am - have always been - a dyed in the wool INTROVERT.  Carolyn Gregoire poses 23 questions which, if the reader responds in the affirmative, confirms the fact that said reader is indeed a "secret introvert".  I urge you, then, to scotch any rumors to the contrary about this writer's 'way of being in the world'.
       Why, you might be wondering with hungry curiosity, is this mundane fact of any moment?  Well,  tucked snugly, protected from extraverted assault, is the proclivity to express one's self - with no small authority - via the written word.  (Other favorites included but were not limited to a negative response to excess environmental stimuli - can't help wondering if that applies to my abhorrence of sound pollution? - requisite 'down-time to recover/re-charge from the former, and reacting to a ringing telephone - 'incoming/unwanted call!' - as though someone had shouted "BOOO!" in the wee hours of the night.
       MOST profound was the fact that introverts have a constant, on-going inner dialogue in action.  This, coupled with an inordinate attention to details the rest of the population consistently ignores, has birthed this evening's brief but heartfelt outburst.  Indeed, though an uncharacteristic outpouring for me, I feel a strong emotional responsibility to YOU to relay my grievances.
       We've been down this path before, lo so many months ago when I shared my not-so-shining moments working as a DJ at a local radio station.  I call it to mind by way of justification and to lend some credibility to my observations - which, to be sure, are intended as a shield for your deservedly sensitive feelings.  Whether it be accompanied by the visual or not: CARELESS, PREVENTABLE COMMENTARY SPEWED OVER OUR AIR WAVES IN THE FORM OF ADVERTISING IS NOTHING SHY OF VENOMOUS.
       There.  I've said it and can only HOPE that the army of inattentive button-pushers and programmers on our televised and audio commentary menus are going to get wind of my observances and clean up their act! (Aware of the risk of redundancies, I'm soldiering ahead.)  Why?  Because it apparently needs repetition.
       You will recall, that the programing of commercials can/is subject to control.  It is also true that talk show hosts and journalist-types should be aware of the contemporaneous elements of reportage and advertising breaks.  For example, announcing that dear little addition to the Royal Family loses its ebullience when followed by threatening, negative dialogue.
       I will simply throw out, "Are you OK, Mrs. Meekham?", "No.", plaintively, "I've fallen and I can't get up!"  This tripe is immediately punctuated with the command-from-nowhere, "Susan, we've detected a strong presence of smoke emanating from your kitchen.  Get out!"  (Well, in the interest of expedience, without time to inform the listener that scenarios have changed, I naturally think in horror, "How can she?  She's fallen and she can't get up!")  Now then.  How can I - or anyone rejoice in the happiness abounding about the Prince changing the little shaver's nappies when it is upstaged post haste with this overwhelming tragedy that ensues?
       Then we have the lineup of pharmaceutical miscreants, at first teasing us with the unimaginable, never-before experienced pleasures of sexual enhancement at age seventy-seven.  This, of course deflates itself (no pun intended) when followed by the 'adverse effect' warnings legally requisite and ending with, "If you experience difficulty breathing, or swelling of your tongue and throat, contact your physician immediately."  Ladies and Gents, if you experience those last symptoms, they will be your last symptoms.  (Trust me on this one.  Unless a neighbor is present and you are damned good at ASL!")
       And what PSA would be complete without reminding us - following a teaser on the number of heinous deaths experienced in the Mideast at the hands of demons using chemical warfare products - in the unmistakably talent/taste-less tones of our own William De Vane, that "There's a storm coming."  (Can't beat the guy when it comes to pith and insight.)  Then old Bill shares his unique progenies' wisdom exhorting us to purchase gold.  "What's in your safe?"  "Pestilence and death, Bill.  Read the paper?"
       And the beat, as we once said, goes on.  But.  It needn't.  If you have been given the privilege of wearing a set of over-sized headphones and a mike over which millions will absorb your dulcet tones, PAY ATTENTION!  It's quite simple, really.  And the humane, responsible thing to do.  We realize that advertisers 'pay the bills', but surely even they don't want to be perceived as insensitive, greedy entities, do they?  (We'll leave that as a 'rhetorical' question.)
       Just do the right thing and do it right.

  PS:  "Do Tell, here.  Just reminding you that it is still Kathy's Birthday MONTH!
Later, Lorane. . . .