In the land of the littlest folk

When did this ship land in Lilliput?
With no offense intended to Leprechauns or “little people,” when did miniature humanoids begin to invade TV-land?
If you’ve watched much football this fall or if, like me, you tend to watch way too many DYI and home improvement shows on cable, you know what I’m talking about.
What I don’t understand is how these zany advertising ideas emerged in the first place.
Think about it: Who in the world would have suggested Neon Deion Sanders as a male version of Tinkerbell touting the virtues of satellite television?
Can you imagine what that meeting sounded like?
“You see, boss, we’ll take a big football star and shrink him down and give him wings and a wand like a fairy.”
“That’s not politically correct!”
“I know, boss, but because it will be Deion it will work. Trust me.”
And I guess they trusted him, though for the life of me I don’t know why.
There’s a standard line at our house when a commercial or the premise for a commercial makes no sense to me. In my youngest daughter’s immortal words: “Dad, you’re not the target demographic.”
But, you see, this time I am. I’m a guy who watches too much football. I’m the kind of guy that the satellite folks want to make a pitch to. But I’m also a guy who doesn’t get why a miniature Deion is zipping around on digitally-generated wings.
And Deion’s not the only one.
Spend enough wasted hours in front of the tube and you’ll see a tiny Mike Ditka as well. Mike Ditka, smaller than the smallest Munchkin in Oz.
And he’s not the only coach who has been shrunken down to Barbie size.
Jim Mora makes a diminutive performance. At least I think it’s Jim Mora. He’s so small it’s hard to tell. (I keep waiting for him to squeak, “Playoffs? Playoffs?” in a Lilliputian voice.)
The downsizing trend stretches well beyond the realm of the NFL. There are those creepy little bits of mud and dirt and hairball that get excited when the mop picks them up. “What about love?” they sing.
What about not insulting our intelligence? I wonder.
By far the creepiest of this takeover by the Lilliputians is the Toyota commercial where a bunch of tiny Cirque du Soleil rejects team up to form a normal-sized human being then break off into their individual parts and climb into half a dozen different Toyotas.
If anyone can explain to me how the heck that sells cars, I’ll set sail for Lilliput myself.
Until then, I feel a bit like Gulliver himself, tied down by all these tiny, tiny little minds.[[In-content Ad]]