Pink Ribbon Overload: Marketing Ploy? What Makes You Say That?

Have you ever noticed that most pink ribbon products are geared toward women? Okay, our last entry was an obvious exception. But really, have you ever seen manly pink ribbon products? Maybe it’s just that the whole pepto pink thing doesn’t really convey the manliness that, say Craftsman is looking for in its marketing. About the closest thing I’ve seen to a pink ribbon man product are the NFL’s breast cancer awareness games this month, where we get to see big, burly football men wearing pink football accessories.  Which is kinda cool.

But back to the lack of pink ribbon man products.  Their conspicuous absence is probably why I have a hard time believing that most pink ribbon products are anything more than marketing. It wouldn’t really be worth it to Valvoline to go to the trouble of having pink boxes made, because the fact of the matter is, men don’t give a fat crap about breast cancer. No, really. Unless they have a loved one who’s been affected by it, or in the rare case that they have it themselves, they really don’t care.  And since some guys are just insecure enough to actually feel threatened by a pink ribbon on their razor blade package, it might cause the company to actually lose sales.  Hence why you don’t see pink ribbons plastered all over boxes of shotgun shells and cans of Skoal.  (Okay, yes, some women do use motor oil, shotgun shells, and Skoal, especially in Kentucky.  However, I doubt those are the kind of women who are going to base their buying decisions on a cutesy pink package anyway.  Just sayin’.)

On the other hand, there is just a ridiculous amount of pink ribbon stuff that falls into categories that women traditionally buy, such as the pink ribbon Huggies and dishwasher soap submitted by our friend Ashlee.

Taste buds dead from chemo?  Then you’ll love the pink ribbon Hamburger Helper I found at Kmart.  And isn’t it great how it’s got that little hand mascot to remind us to do our monthly exams? 

Or if you’re a foodie like me, perhaps you’d enjoy cooking a meal from scratch using this bunch of breast cancer fungi. Our friend Tanya writes, “What’s for dinner, you ask? Why apricot chicken with mushroom cancer, um, I mean cream sauce.” 

Mmmmm!

 

Pink Ribbon Overload: All That’s Missing is a Pink Pole

(Sorry folks, the image that accompanied this post has been removed at the request of its creator, who is apparently quite sensitive about his boob fairies.)

Today’s submission comes from Ryan, who commented, “OK, this kills me. First off, is there a demand for fairy art? Secondly, is there a bigger demand for stripper-esque sexy fairies?  This is just sad and funny…” 

Well, duh, Ryan.  Didn’t you know that stripper fairy art is the new Monet?  Besides, this is way better than a painting, because you can order this in a 52″ x 52″ poster— for only $155.95.  But wait, there’s more.  Not only can you get the poster-as-big-as-your-car-hood, you can also get this design on your mouse pad, can koozie, or skateboard.  I don’t know how many times I’ve thought, “Dang!  If only I had a breast-cancer-awareness-stripper fairy skateboard!”

And you know, it says right there on the listing that “Proceeds from the sale of all “Fairies for a Cure” line go to benefit Breast Cancer Research.”  Proceeds, huh?  Okay, assuming that you do manage to sell one of these, what exactly do you mean by proceeds?  That’s pretty vague.  All the proceeds? Ten cents?  And, I see that you’ve capitalized Breast Cancer Research in an effort to add an air of legitimacy to your statement.  Nice touch.  Would you like that $156 in ones for greater tuckability?

Pink Ribbon Overload: Roxanne, You Don’t Have to Put on the Pink Light

I’ve got an idea!  See?

 Heh heh.  Really though, this is just odd. 

 “Now with the flip of a switch, you can turn on a pink light to honor someone you know who has breast cancer, is a survivor, or lost the fight.” (Or perhaps just lost their light)

 Like an eternal flame, I suppose.  At least until the bulb burns out.  But as a survivor, I have to say that with the flip of a switch, you could also be turning on your coffee maker.  I’d much rather be honored with a cup of coffee than a pink light bulb.  And considering that each bulb costs $5, you could actually spring for Starbucks.  Just a thought. 

 This product is made by a company called Mood-factory, and the bulb itself is known as a Mood-lite.  Too bad it’s not Moody-lite, eh?  Adding to the weirdness is that the different colored bulbs are “created to elicit feelings of <insert mood here>”.  In this case, the mood is “sassy” and in fact, that’s what they call the bulb itself.  A sassy.

 The website goes on to say:

 “Brighten Our World Pink is an exciting new way to raise money for Breast Cancer Awareness. Putting a pink Sassy in a porch light or window on October 12th reminds people…blah blah blah” 

I don’t know about you, but I think it’d be much more “exciting” to put a pink sissy on my porch.  Kind of like a Salvation Army bell ringer, except collecting money for breast cancer research.  One that would pinch you, or at least give you a good old fashioned feather boa roundhouse if you didn’t donate to Komen.  “Oh no you dinn’t just walk by here and not put some change in my pink sassy sissy receptacle!”

(Props to Faye for enlightening us with this one.)

Josh Bell Loves Pete’s Pride Pink Ribbon Pork Fritters

Okay, not really.  I mean, Josh would probably like them, but there is no such thing.  Dang it.  Pete’s Pride is totally missing out on some mad marketing AND alliteration opportunities.

As you guys surely know by now, I’m a big nerd who gets a whole lot of amusement out of perusing the search engine terms people have used to find this blog.  Some things are to be expected, especially since we’re nearing October, like the current top three for the past 30 days: “pink ribbon cake pan”, “pink ribbon cake”, and “pink ribbon”.  But the 4^th item on the list is a little puzzling to me—Richard Simmons.  Really?  Is October Richard Simmons Awareness Month, too?  Wonder what color the ribbon is for that one.  Is sequined a color?  Richard Simmons beat out the perpetual favorite “bald girlfriend” (I’m pretty sure that I really, really don’t want to know the motivation behind that one) and the believe it or not “pork fritter” is way down the list at number 8.  Pork fritter fans need not worry, however, because in the all time search engine term standings, the humble pork fritter holds 3 of the top 5 slots.

And speaking of pork fritter fans…if you’ve been keeping up on the comments, you know that our friend Nanine is a transplanted Hoosier, living in Texas, who has been searching for Pete’s Pride Pork Fritters to no avail.  Of course, since we ARE pretty high on the google results, she ended up here, and asked if I knew who makes Pete’s Pride.  I didn’t, but I do now.  I don’t know why I was even at all surprised to learn that Pete’s Pride Pork Fritters are manufactured by Al Pete Meats (recently acquired by Monogram Foods) in none other than Muncie, Indiana.   Why of course they are!  Where else?  So, Nanine, I hope this helps you in your quest.  Keep us posted—we love having an excuse to write about pork fritters. (We also love referring to ourselves in the first person plural.)

Now back to those searches.  It gives me a chuckle every time someone gets here from googling “Josh Bell poet” or some other variation.  If you recall, my old friend Josh has the distinct misfortune of sharing his name with another extremely famous Josh from Indiana.  Hence, folks looking for my friend must include poetry/poem/poet in their search.  However, like other violin-toting super villains, the fantastically famous Joshua Bell will stop at nothing in his quest to squash my dear Josh like a bug—going so far as to title one of his albums “Poeme”.  Really, can there be any other explanation for this?  So, it was especially amusing to me when some obviously determined fan of my Josh recently got here by searching “josh bell poetry or poem or poet not violinist”.   Take that, you fancy fiddler.

This weekend is the local Race for the Cure.  Yes, I’m going.  No, I’m probably not doing the survivor parade.  Wearing the pink shirt is about as much as you can expect from me.  And Thursday is the first day of October, so get those Pink Ribbon Overload pictures to me.  I’ll be starting off the month with one of my own finds and the story of how it came into my possession.  That’s right, I actually own this one, but even that’s not the whole story, so check back with me on Thursday afternoon to get the scoop.

The Pink Mafia

There haven’t been too many haters show up here.  Except for Jamie, the person who told us all that we were collectively lame and needed to “get real” because we made fun of breast cancer Barbie.  Funny, I haven’t heard a peep out of ol’ whatsherface since I explained that I’ve got a 10 inch scar across my chest that gives me the right to dis’ BC Barbie all the livelong day.  Of course, it could be that she was just so disgusted by our fun that she’s never come back.  But I like to think that it was the verbal beat-down  she got that silenced her.  Take that, fun sucker.

 Sometimes, I write things that I know might provoke those humor vigilantes out there.  Of course, I do enjoy a certain amount of immunity.  You know, one of the perks of having The Cancer is the immunity you gain.  I think this may be rooted in the pity people feel, which would probably annoy me if I really thought about it, but I don’t.  I just enjoy the benefit. 

 In real life, the Cancer Immunity was way more powerful when I was bald.  Shoot!  You can get away with just about anything when it’s obvious you’ve got The Cancer.  If I were smart, I would have robbed a bank or held up Starbucks.  Chemo brain would have ensured that I forgot where I left the getaway car, and I’d have had to run away on foot.  Sure, I’d be easy to spot—you don’t see too many bald women running around with big bags of money slung over their shoulder (like a continental soldier)—but gee, can you see me getting arrested like that?  No way!  They’d feel too sorry for me. 

 But these days, I don’t get much protection from The Cancer Immunity, because it’s not obvious to the random person I run into.  Dang it.  I don’t want The Cancer, but I want Cancer Immunity forever.  I do get a little bit of that when I blog though, since the blog started because of The Cancer and I continue to talk a lot about The Cancer.  However, there is one fear that always looms over me when I post snarky things about breast cancer awareness: the fear of getting hated on by The Komen. 

 So, the other day when I got an email from Mildred Jones* with the subject line “Susan G Komen for the Cure” my mind flew immediately to all the smart-alecky things I’ve ever written about the pink ribbon, survivor walks, etc.  Oh crap.  It’s the Pink Mafia.  I’m in trouble now.  They’re gonna bring that pink ribbon cement truck over here and make me some new shoes to go swimming in. 

 I must just have a guilty conscience.  All Mildred really wanted was to see if I was planning to be a team captain at the Race for the Cure in October.  Guess she hasn’t read my blog after all. 

 *Not her real name, because like I said, I don’t want to anger The Komen.  Nothing to see here, Komen.  Move along.

The Dr Birhiray Fan Club

There’s been a whole lot of love for Dr Birhiray going on in the comments lately.  That’s great—beats the heck out of the comment recently left by Jamie, who apparently had no appreciation for the irony of hatin’ on a bunch of cancer survivors for poking fun at BC Barbie when she left the following comment:

 “You people are ridiculous.  You should feel embarrassed by the way you are replying to something so simple.  This Barbie is only being used to spread the awareness.  This Barbie was made to represent something devasting to many men and women in the world, breast cancer.  No this Barbie isn’t realistic to the effects of breast cancer; but there is one thing, there is beauty in everything.  God made everything beautiful.  Even when we are having hard times, even when women who are beat down by breast cancer, this represents the beauty that is able to shine through in a bad situation.  This Barbie was only to raise awareness, not to depict the actuality of breast cancer.  Get real.”
 
(Sheesh.  Jamie are you, like, the creator of breast cancer Barbie?  Or are you just some random do-gooder swooping in to save all those poor beat-down breast cancer survivors from meanies like us?  Newsflash, my dear—we ARE breast cancer survivors. I’ve got a 10 inch scar across my chest that gives me the right to make fun of Pink Ribbon Barbie all the live-long day.  So chill.  Dang.)

Ahem. 

 Alrighty then, so back to Dr Birhiray.  As I said, there’s been a lot of folks loving on Dr B up in here, so I decided that gee, maybe we need to take this to the next level.  So, my friends, I’ve set up a Dr Birhiray Fan Club group on Facebook.  If you’re a patient, a family member, or even a friend who is really glad that your peeps have such a fantastic oncologist, please join! 

 My next appointment is in about a month, and I’d love to be able to show Dr B his fan club page with just gobs and gobs of folks on there.  This will serve a couple of purposes.  First, it will show Dr B how much he’s loved, because let’s face it, the man doesn’t always see happy endings and that’s got to wear him down sometimes.  Second, I hope to enhance my status as Dr B’s favorite patient.  Yeah, that’s right, apparently I must be his fave because  at least one person googled “dr. birhiray favorite patient” and lo’ and behold they ended up here!  So that must mean it’s true, right?

Cup Holders

In response to my last post, reader Pam suggested that instead of avoiding holding anything in my hand that might be a danger to The Noob, perhaps I should just own the situation, so to speak. Specifically, Pam suggested that I get a cup holder for my noob. That’s great, Pam! Because you have hit upon one of the things that I love the most—cup holders.

Yes, as a chronic consumer of beverages, I think cup holders are great. They’re right up there with mayonnaise, and pork fritters, and roller skates, and canoes. So, you can imagine how excited I was when, on a recent trip to Gander Mountain (it’s an outdoors store, for those of you who may not know) I found a canoe WITH CUP HOLDERS! I’m pretty sure that this thing must have been contructed by God, in heaven, just for me.  But, unfortuately, Gander Mountain thinks I need to give them money for it.  Believe it or not, they want more for it than Panera wants for the infamous Breast Cancer Bagel.  No, really, they do.  So, I did not bring the cup holder canoe home. 

Also more expensive than the Breast Cancer Bagel was the Breast Cancer Kayak at Gander.  Seriously.  I saw two of these things.  And they are totally, and completely PINK.  Now, as much as I like to avoid all the pink ribbon stuff, a thought occurred to me.  How many kayaking breast cancer survivors can there possibly be in The Haute?  Yeah, I’m thinking not too many.  So, I can potentially see a future where the Breast Cancer Kayak is on clearance. 

Uh-oh. 

At what point does my love of a bargain overcome my loathing of the pink?  I’m thinking no less than 50% off.  Yeah, I’m pretty sure Komen could buy my kayaking soul for that amount.  Who knows, I might even take it up to Geist and take on the dragon boat racers.

Come on Barbie, Let’s go Party…

After my last post, reader Lizz suggested that perhaps the talking object featured at the wisdom circle could be a Cancer Journey Barbie or Ken.  Well, Lizz, you’ll be happy to note that Mattel is right there on the cutting edge of wisdom circle accessories with Pink Ribbon Barbie.  

(I can’t believe no one submitted this back in October!)

 The description for our plastic pink ribbon pal reads as follows:

 “For more than 20 years, the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation has been leading the fight against breast cancer and now Barbie doll contributes to the cause. Wearing a pink gown with a signature pink ribbon pinned to her shoulder, Pink Ribbon Barbie doll is both a tool to help those affected with breast cancer talk to girls, and a way to support the cause!”

  See, Lizz, it even says right there that our friend Barbie is a TOOL to help those affected with breast cancer talk to girls.  Because, you know we’ve got all this pent up wisdom that just can’t get out without Barbie’s help. 

 However, I’m not quite sure that think Barbie should be all fancy like she is.  I think that sends the wrong message.  I mean, there they go making cancer look glamorous again.  Next thing you know girls will be trying to get The Cancer so they can look as cool as ol’ Pink Ribbon Barbie. 

 So, I’d like to suggest a more realistic Pink Ribbon Barbie.  Remember when you were little and you cut Barbie’s hair?  Well, that’s exactly what my hair looked like the day I had Hubster cut it off for Locks of Love, before we actually shaved it.  I think that’s the hair Pink Ribbon Barbie needs—not some Texas pageant hair like she’s got going on now.  And what’s with having two boobs?  Oh sure, they do kind of look like she’s got expanders, but if we’re trying to educate the youngsters, I think they need to know that sometimes The Cancer makes you have to have a boob lopped off.  Of course, we won’t let Barbie walk around lopsided, though.  She’ll need to have her own little foob and mastectomy bra. 

 Then there are the accessories.  Forget the Barbie Townhouse and the RV, Pink Ribbon Barbie needs the Barbie Breast MRI & Manicure Machine and the Barbie Radiation Station.  She’ll have a little tube of goop to put on her burnt chest and everything.  It’ll be great.  And don’t forget that Pink Ribbon Barbie mustn’t have any eyebrows, so she’ll have to come with a little pencil for drawing those on.  And of course, she’ll need an assortment of do rags and hats.  And a wig that looks just like B-52s hair—sold separately.

 I’m sure I’m missing something.  What else does The New Pink Ribbon Barbie need?

My Fate Rests in Your Hands

So, the other day I got this letter in the mail inviting me to a breast cancer powwow.  The letter and event brochure came in an envelope with my name and address on it.  You may not think that’s significant.  You may be thinking, “Well, Moody, how else would they address it?  Surely you wouldn’t expect them to just send out a mass mailing addressed to ‘current resident’ would you?”  I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t.  Because the letter itself opened with the greeting: Dear Person with a Diagnosis of Breast Cancer.

 Gee, how do they make it feel so doggone personal?  Amazing!  I feel so loved.

 The letter is signed by Patsy, who took the time to actually sign her name along with her impressive alphabet of credentials, which is obviously more important than taking the time to address me by my name.  Now granted, my name doesn’t normally have a bunch of fancy pants letters after it, but thanks to ol’ Patsy, I can now call myself Moody Foodie, PWDBC.  That is my identity these days, right?  Person with a diagnosis of breast cancer?  Or current resident.  It’s kind of a toss up.

 These items came from Union Hospital  in conjunction with The Maple Center in Terre Haute.  I did my radiation at Hux Cancer Center, so I’m assuming that’s how I got on their list.  Ironically, Patsy makes a point of telling me to “Rest assured that your name and address has been kept confidential.”  My name, you say?  And what might that be?  Hmm?  Current resident?  Person with a Diagnosis of Breast Cancer?  Shhh! Someone might steal my identity!  (And, Patsy, it’s HAVE.  They HAVE been kept confidential.  Good grief, you’re making us sound like illiterate hilljacks.  Dang.)

 I know you’re all anxious to hear about this cancer powwow I’ve been invited to.  It’s called “Celebration of Life”.  Okay, not bad so far, although I have most often heard that phrase used in regard to funerals.  But, I can get past that if it’s going to be some super cool event, right?  Says it’s a “one day seminar to pamper inspire, energize and teach.”  So, it sounds like it has potential.  I mean, pamper sounds like pedicures and hot stone massages, right?  And that thing about teaching sounds good.  I’m all about education.  I bet they’ll be doing sessions about breast reconstruction techniques, and post-chemo fertility issues facing young women, and all sorts of relevant stuff.  

 Let’s take a look at the brochure together, shall we? 

 Oh.  Wow.  One of the first session options is “Cultivating Support on Your Journey: Using Collage.” Dude, they just used the J word.  And collage?  Collage?  Seriously?  I realize that I am biased, in that I have always and forever considered collage to be the lamest form of art (and I use the term loosely) known to man, but this makes me want to go straight for my eye-poking spork. 

 But it’s got to get better, right?  Surely there’s a pedicure in there somewhere.  Let’s look at our options for the second session.  “Wisdom Circle (Sharing insight): Using guidelines from the Wisdom Circle Format inspired by councils of indigenous people, this circle discussion using a talking object allows us to share wisdom and compassion.”  What kind of Mickey Mouse new-agey crap is that?  Because we all know that there’s no wisdom or compassion without a “talking object”.  <insert eye roll here>  But, hey, if we must use an object to talk for us, I volunteer The Foob.  He may not be wise or compassionate, but doggone it, he’ll sound French as he says, “You do not need Zee Foob, or zee wisdom circle, you need a zinnamon latte—now zuck it up!”

 I’m torn.  Going to this thing would no doubt give me SO much material.  Yet, do I really want to spend a day collaging and getting my weirdness on in the wisdom circle?  This thing is March 7^th, so I have a little time.  Perhaps I’ll leave it to you to decide. 

Moody’s Helpful Hints for Holiday Happiness

It used to be that far and away my most popular post was My 9 Practical Tips for Those Starting Chemo.  While that has remained a popular entry, it has recently been surpassed by my About page.  For a long time, I’d get a few hits here and there on the old About page, but nothing major. 

 So what happened?  Well, it appears to have spiked with my Pink Ribbon Overload series.  One day, it dawned on me: people are checking my cancer cred.  You know, they read my snarky posts about all the pink ribbon gear and they’re ready to tell me what an insensitive clod I am.  So, thinking to themselves, “Who is this jerk, anyway?” they naturally make a beeline to the About page.  There they find out that yes, I am indeed a full fledged member of the BC crew.  They’re still not sure if it’s cool for me to make fun of the stuff, but the only thing more taboo than that would be for them to hate on me.  Ah, I loves me some cancer amnesty. 

 Monday, while I was sitting outside the boutique, I observed a woman buying about one of everything in pink.  I gathered from the conversation she was having with the clerk—yeah, I was eavesdropping—that she was buying these items as Christmas gifts.  Yikes.  I considered sashaying into the boutique and offering my sage advice, but chickened out.  Later, Hubster suggested that maybe I needed to offer my gift giving advice here.  Apparently, my subtle hints in the form of an entire series of posts on ridiculous pink ribbon stuff wasn’t quite enough.  And so, with the belt of humor cinched snugly around my waist, and the shield of cancer amnesty grasped firmly in hand, I present to you…

Moody’s Helpful Hints for Holiday Happiness

 Unless you are absolutely sure that Eunice has completely traded in her identity, and now prefers to be known not as Eunice, but as an unpronounceable symbol shaped curiously like a pink ribbon, do NOT assume that she wants a pink Christmas.  Put the powder pink pajamas down and slowly back away.  Eunice likes to sleep in the nude anyway. 

 Maybe Eunice collects teddy bears, and so giving her one would be normal.  But, if that’s not the case, then forget the pink ribbon teddy bear.  Eunice is a grown woman.  What is she supposed to do with a teddy bear?  And don’t say “Take it to chemo.”  You want to get Eunice something handy to take to chemo?  How about an iPod?  Or better yet, a gas card so she can get there and back without taking out second mortgage.

 Perhaps you’re shopping in the bookstore, and you spy a copy of Chicken Soup for the Departing Soul on Her Deathbed—Breast Cancer Edition.  “Why, I bet Eunice would LOVE to curl up with this on a cold winter’s night!” you think.  Stop.  What kind of books does Eunice normally read?  Dean Koontz, you say?   Then why not get her the newest Koontz book?  Seriously.

 Now it could be that Eunice loves the pink ribbon stuff—your clue would be if she buys it for herself.  If she’s all about the pink ribbon purse and the Save the Ta-tas hoodie, then doggone it, you go ahead and buy her that five pound, gem encrusted pink ribbon pendant.  She’ll love it.

 But otherwise, use a little common sense.  Don’t get all wrapped up in the emotion of this thing.  I know loved ones often feel like they want to DO something, because they can’t really DO anything about the cancer.  But, folks, it’s not about you, okay?  Eunice has had her life, for the most part, hijacked by cancer.  There are a lot of things that she can’t control right now, and so she’s most likely cherishing whatever normalcy she can manage to scrounge up. 

 So, the best gift that you can give her is to treat her as you normally would.  Have normal conversations.  Not every conversation has to include cancer.  In fact, Eunice would probably prefer that none of them did.  That way she might occasionally, in spite of being completely bald, forget about the whole ordeal for a minute.  Go normal places.  Don’t make assumptions about what Eunice “feels up to” doing.  Just ask her if she wants to do it—in a normal way—not prefaced by “if you feel up to it”.  Trust me, Eunice will tell you if she doesn’t want to go.  And give her normal gifts.  If Eunice likes coffee, then why not get her a Starbucks gift card?  Sure, her taste buds might be jacked up right now, but they’ll get better.  And when they do, she’ll savor that latte even more.  Or, if you want to feel like you’re doing something to help take care of Eunice, how about a gift certificate for a pedicure?  Eunice may not have eyebrows, but doggone it, she’s still got her toenails.

May you and your Eunice have a very Merry Christmas.