Make it Stop

Dear Mazda,

Stop.

Please stop.

For the love of god, please fucking stop.

Your media buyers must have been on some high grade industrial adderral. It appears they have bought every advertising time slot, on every channel, for every damned minute of the day.

I know this because as an avid watcher of sports, including the recent NBA championship and the Stanley Cup (I'm a recent convert to hockey) and an avid consumer of news, not because of TDS, but because of a legitimate concern for the future of humanity, your commercials are hounding me.

More specifically, I'm referring to that cloying emo crap song that mercilessly burrows through my brain like the relentless tungsten-bladed monstrosity that gave us the Chunnel.

Upon closer inspection I have discovered there are actually three separate commercials.

Apparently, based on the success of a millennial woman clutching a helium filled red balloon and going off on an acid trip, you decided to subject the viewing masses to more of this TV waterboarding.

To be honest, I haven't a clue as to what's going on in your spots. The first few chords of that "song" send me scurrying for the remote and the well worn Mute button.

Of course, being a freelance copywriter I'm well aware that this diatribe could land me a spot at the top of Mazda's Do Not Hire list. Which is probably for the better. Because I don't know how to do this type of advertising -- the kind that badgers people into submission, induces ear bleed and necessitates a Scott Pruitt Cone of Silence.

And frankly I don't want to.

Then again, what do I know? In the irony of ironies, I recently purchased a Certified Pre-Owned Mazda 3 for my daughter, who decided to stay in Boulder, Colorado, following her college graduation and is working for a great post production studio that merits a mention, 11 dollar bill.

The truth is Mazda makes great cars. They don't make great advertising.

She loves her Mazda.

But she hates that "music" as much as I do.