Letters: Jul. 26, 1968

Equal Time

Sir: Your cover article on the commercial [July 12] was an exquisite amalgam of love, truth, beauty, corn and a little salt.

JIM KERNS

Sheridan, Wyo.

Sir: I am surprised that you suggested no escape plan for the average CEBUS victim. Mine is workable, simple, and guaranteed to trim the waistline while liberating the mind from ugh-plugs. For women, the average battery of three commercials per station break allows time for any of the following: washing and rinsing about one-third of the dinner dishes, emptying trash, sorting or putting away the wash, pressing any two wash-and-wear items, filling the coffeepot for the next morning, feeding any household pet. For men: finding the car keys, tucking in the children, taking trash out, balancing checkbook, having brief argument with wife or kissing wife up to seven times.

KATHARINE B. EVANS

Columbus, Ga.

Sir: We never buy the products, we buy the stock.

(MRS.) Lois DURGIN

Berkeley, Calif.

Sir: Your cover story brings to mind an incident I recently encountered on a bus. A girl no older than four or five, singing away very spiritedly: "... a taste you can really feel; new Ultra Brite gives your mouth sex appeal!"

HARRY PLEWA

Jamaica, N.Y.

Sir: Though some national commercials may be only at the threshold of pain, the local variety tests the steel of man's capacity to endure. A local "30-minute" news program consists of twelve minutes of news and weather and 18 minutes of commercial blight. The deluge of drivel is often highlighted by a car dealer's hypocritical, Bible-waving sign-off: "Gaw bless ya 'n' yore luvved 'uns."

W. BURKE GRANDJEAN

Baton Rouge, La.

Sir: Congratulations on your choice of satirist. Scarfe is a larf.

PETER SHILLINGFORD

Shillingtord Lambe Assoc. Ltd.

London

Sir: Two articles, "And Now a Word about Commercials" and "Healing by Tinkering" expose the appalling attitude of the citizenry of this, the richest country, toward their fellow citizens. Apparently the American public is willing to pay, via the marketplace, a hidden tax on its beer, cigarettes, detergents and automobiles to support $22,000-per-minute television commercials, but is unwilling to pay for the vitally needed equipment or manpower to save the lives of more than a slim handful of the 20,000 or more Americans who develop a treatable kidney disease each year.

I can visualize an inexpensive, news-report type of one-minute commercial that quietly states that the sponsor bought 44 kidney dialysis machines with the money he otherwise would have spent on the usual T.V. commercial. While showing scenes of the equipment in use, mention could be made of the 308 people whose lives were saved and were being supported. If competition developed between sponsors, maybe more than a mere handful of lives could be saved.

BURTON STAUGAARD, PH.D.

Assistant Professor

Vanderbilt University School of Medicine

Nashville, Tenn.

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