Back in my day, Ronald McDonald wasn't just a peddler of saturated fat like he is today. No, he was a cultural icon. He didn't just bring meals to your table, he brought happy meals. They came in fun boxes with wacky cartoons and a kickass toy. He and his rag-tag bunch, including the kleptomaniac Hamburgler, the mentally challanged Grimace, and the frighteningly tantalizing McNuggets were thought of as friends and heroes amongst the pre-kindergarten demographic. Hey, with commercials like this, how could we resist?
That's right, despite Hamburgler's best efforts to kidnap and devour an entire class of innocent schoolburgers, Ronald was always there to save the day. Aside from Santa Claus and He-Man, he was every young boy's hero.
Following each of these wholesome commercials, there would be an announcement that "Ronald McDonald is coming to a town near you!" and it would list a number of cities. Every time I saw this commercial, I'd run to my mom and say "Do we live near [insert mentioned city]?" Every time, she'd say no. Until one day...
As the foreign city names rolled across the screen, one caught my attention. Ronald was coming to the city of Petaluma, which my grandma lived in (and, coincidentally, was mayor of)! I tore through the house in search of my mom to declare that Ronald was coming to Petaluma!
And indeed he did. On that fateful day, we loaded up the family Volvo and headed 45 minutes inland to the quaint town of Petaluma, where the Ronald McDonald was to give a performance on the back of a flatbed truck in the parking lot of the local McDonald's. Oh man, what a day!
Upon arrival, I pushed my way through the wild crowd of toddlers and Gerber-junkies to the front of the stage. And, sure enough, Ronald put on one hell of a show.
About half way through is performance, Ronald declared that whoever had the best smile in the audience would get to join him on stage. Oh man, I smiled so hard that it made my face hurt. I smiled and I smiled... I wanted to get on that damn stage more than anyone else in that stupid parking lot. Just as I was about to collapse from exhaustion, a yellow-gloved hand pointed my direction, and I was hurried up before the crowd.
Sweet Jesus, it was everything I thought it could be and more. I stared down upon the disappointed faces of all those who disparately wanted to be in my shoes (and short-shorts). Ronald told some jokes, made me a balloon animal, and said that I was special. It was the greatest day ever.
Afterwards, Grandma and my brothers got to join Ronald and myself for an exclusive photo-op. I decided to let them join in on my glory, as I was a kind-hearted fellow who wished to help those who could only dream to one day reach my level of fame.
This photo later appeared in their local newspaper, along with a caption that explained how the mayor spent the day with Ronald McDonald and her three grandsons. I was shocked to see that I, with my award-winning smile, had been exploited for political gains. Indeed, Ronald had used me to get to the mayor. I had never felt so betrayed in all my life. From that point on, I was never able to trust Ronald's comical smile, or that of any other clown.
Also, years later, I found out that Ronald, after the show, was hitting on my mom, telling her that he was "really great with kids".
At the ripe age of four, I learned an important life lesson: Clowns (much like politicians) will make you feel like you're the king of the world, until they get what they came for, after which you're nothing but another face in the crowd.
Now, all these years later, the only regret that I have is that I associated Grandma with this fiend whose false promises and propaganda was spread throughout the land. If I cost her the election, I offer my sincerest apologies.
Following each of these wholesome commercials, there would be an announcement that "Ronald McDonald is coming to a town near you!" and it would list a number of cities. Every time I saw this commercial, I'd run to my mom and say "Do we live near [insert mentioned city]?" Every time, she'd say no. Until one day...
As the foreign city names rolled across the screen, one caught my attention. Ronald was coming to the city of Petaluma, which my grandma lived in (and, coincidentally, was mayor of)! I tore through the house in search of my mom to declare that Ronald was coming to Petaluma!
And indeed he did. On that fateful day, we loaded up the family Volvo and headed 45 minutes inland to the quaint town of Petaluma, where the Ronald McDonald was to give a performance on the back of a flatbed truck in the parking lot of the local McDonald's. Oh man, what a day!
Upon arrival, I pushed my way through the wild crowd of toddlers and Gerber-junkies to the front of the stage. And, sure enough, Ronald put on one hell of a show.
About half way through is performance, Ronald declared that whoever had the best smile in the audience would get to join him on stage. Oh man, I smiled so hard that it made my face hurt. I smiled and I smiled... I wanted to get on that damn stage more than anyone else in that stupid parking lot. Just as I was about to collapse from exhaustion, a yellow-gloved hand pointed my direction, and I was hurried up before the crowd.
Sweet Jesus, it was everything I thought it could be and more. I stared down upon the disappointed faces of all those who disparately wanted to be in my shoes (and short-shorts). Ronald told some jokes, made me a balloon animal, and said that I was special. It was the greatest day ever.
Afterwards, Grandma and my brothers got to join Ronald and myself for an exclusive photo-op. I decided to let them join in on my glory, as I was a kind-hearted fellow who wished to help those who could only dream to one day reach my level of fame.
This photo later appeared in their local newspaper, along with a caption that explained how the mayor spent the day with Ronald McDonald and her three grandsons. I was shocked to see that I, with my award-winning smile, had been exploited for political gains. Indeed, Ronald had used me to get to the mayor. I had never felt so betrayed in all my life. From that point on, I was never able to trust Ronald's comical smile, or that of any other clown.Also, years later, I found out that Ronald, after the show, was hitting on my mom, telling her that he was "really great with kids".
At the ripe age of four, I learned an important life lesson: Clowns (much like politicians) will make you feel like you're the king of the world, until they get what they came for, after which you're nothing but another face in the crowd.
Now, all these years later, the only regret that I have is that I associated Grandma with this fiend whose false promises and propaganda was spread throughout the land. If I cost her the election, I offer my sincerest apologies.
1 comment:
It appears that you are using my bandwidth by posting a direct link to my site on your May 14, 2008 post.
Please remove this link as soon as possible, as it is costing ME money.
Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter.
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