Erectile dysfunction ads elicit horror, humor

By: AGNES DIGGS - Staff Writer | Saturday, March 27, 2004 10:36 PM PST ∞

Who knew?

It seems whole neighborhoods of men have apparently been suffering from erectile dysfunction.

Judging by television commercials, anyway.

And by the incessant e-mail that overloads my system.

Please forgive me if you find this discussion indelicate. Maybe I should put a disclaimer here that if you are sensitive to allusions to certain bodily functions, this might be the time to turn the page, change the channel or whatever is appropriate to move you along to a more comfortable place. No judgment here, just a head's up.

Anyway, how is it that I have a hard time getting e-mail from friends and co-workers but not from the spam-artists trying to sell me enhancements for parts I don't have?

But I digress.

Ordinarily, I would never have mentioned this dysfunction thing but the subject keeps coming up. So to speak.

You can't even watch cartoons without a commercial break that mentions it, and one or another cure for it.

I was wracked between horror and humor recently when I looked up at my television to see men of every age, size, shape and color, including a postman who was tossing mail in the air like confetti, cavorting in the make-believe streets of a television sales pitch. In the background, the rock group Queen wailed the strains that I have come to associate with the Revenge of the Nerds ---- "We are the champions, my friend, and we'll keep on fighting 'til the end ... "

I laughed the spontaneous laughter of a person seeing a clown slip on a banana peel and fall. It wasn't really funny, but it sure looked funny.

And let's not forget the ad that shows a man's jaunty progress to his office where he is questioned by several people along the way about whether he has had some sort of makeover. Apparently the little pill being advertised will make you appear prosperous, more handsome and better dressed to the extent that co-workers and friends will be amazed.

This flurry of attention to the subject makes me wonder how pervasive the problem really is.

And do other women find themselves gazing into the dating pool and wondering who are the sinkers and who are the floaters. So to speak.

Look, far be it for me to deny anyone the pleasures of life, but really, who comes up with this ad stuff?

There was a time when we were more discreet about our bodily functions, but it seems the privacy notion is circling the drain on its way out.

I guess men are entitled to equal time with women. After all, the gamboling guys are no worse than the girl shown wrestling a dispenser for a tampon.

Or the woman who is apparently out on a romantic date in a rowboat on a lake when the craft begins to sink. She conveniently ---- and, amazingly, to me ---- whips a 24-pack box out of her purse and uses one to plug a leak and save the day.

Now there's a scene set for romance. You, a gorgeous date and a bloated feminine product at your feet.

We may be laughing to keep from crying, but all the while our children are being exposed to this stuff. Yes, even on Super Bowl Sunday. Maybe they aren't paying much attention right now, but someday that little innocent is going to look you in the eye and say, Mommy, Daddy, what's erectile dysfunction mean?

Then you'll have some 'splainin' to do.

Contact staff writer Agnes Diggs at (760) 740-3511 or adiggs@nctimes.com.