Weâ€™ve seen enough of them by now. You know, the thigh master, the gut buster, the fat burner, the tummy tucker and a plethora of special diets and mail-order meals advertisements.
Of course, itâ€™s that time of year after the holidays when guilt replaces pumpkin pie and remorse supplants Grandmaâ€™s peanut butter fudge.
Iâ€™m sure it was a marketing genius who coined the term, â€œstrike while the iron is hot.â€ No better time to talk about fat rolls versus the hot cross variety and fruit versus fruit cake. We are truly eager receptors of these types of messages after the holiday indulgences. And whatâ€™s crazy is that these advertisements make perfect sense. I find myself watching late-night television and saying things like, â€œYes, the 1,200-calorie meal system seems ideally suited to my new lifestyle!â€ or, â€œI believe them â€” you can still have brownies and pizza and lose weight, just like the woman who lost 68 pounds on Diet Shake Rattle and RollÂ®.â€
Just as predictable as the swallows returning to Capistrano each year, people migrate back to the weight-loss centers. Sure, it may only last for a few short weeks, but it makes us feel good and somehow fulfills the New Yearâ€™s resolution requirement.
Marketers are heartless souls. They prey upon our vulnerabilities and sweet tooth during the joyous season, only to come back with mean-spirited, dimly lit, side-profile still photographs of shirtless men whose only six-pack is called Bud Light.
But honestly, I always liked Marie Osmond, whether she was chunky or not. It was her brother I couldn’t stand.