Supermarketing does not always make sense

I used to believe the advertising and marketing of products was a well thought out process undertaken by intelligent and highly trained individuals. I mean look at Darren on “Bewitched”, both of them, he (they) worked hard to come up with just the right imagery. Lately, not all of the decisions of the Madison Avenue brain trust make a lot of sense to me.
The other day I took a leisurely stroll through the local supermarket. Usually, I run into the store, get the few things I have been sent for (plus something with nougat or caramel), rush to the self checkout (grumble as the guy in front of me pays using a penny jar the size of a shop vac), and then scamper out (being sure to eat the contraband candy before I get home). This time I looked around and saw many puzzling things.
I came across a selection of very healthy cereals. I read the boxes simply to pass the time. I have no interest in eating healthy cereals. This prejudice was validated the more I learned about them.
The first brand I saw was called Perky-O’s. In big letters it proudly proclaimed it was gluten free. I have no idea what gluten is so I was willing to believe I would prefer not to have it as part of any well-balanced breakfast. Then I noticed another large label saying it had thirty percent less sugar. How can something called Perky-O’s have less sugar? Perky equals sugar.
It got worse. Next I saw a cereal called Good Friends. The package featured two very happy people with their heads together smiling out at me. They were way too happy for early morning. It said it was very high fiber. I suppose if you are going to share high fiber cereal with a friend it had better be a good friend.
In order to make the ingredients sound attractive the makers of Good Friends gave them a lyrical quality. One variety said it was made of a quartet of flakes, blossoms, granola, and raisins. Blossoms? Then I remembered the lyrics to that San Francisco song from the sixties. “If you’re going to San Francisco. Be sure to wear some flowers in your teeth.”
The other variety touted a trio of flakes, twigs, and granola. It actually said twigs! Who would spend nearly five dollars to buy cereal which boasts of twigs? I can buy a knock-off brand of Froot Loops for a buck fifty and then go into my backyard and add all the twigs my little heart desires, for free. I suppose it comes in handy when the main dish supplies its own toothpicks in every spoonful. I preferred it when my breakfast featured a prize of a decoder ring or little plastic “Freakies” characters, not bits of dead tree. Somehow I think I could make several more jokes abut having twigs in cereal, but I’ll let you all play the home version while I move on.
Wait, one more. “Don’t worry, honey, the new cereal I got is fine. Its bark is worse than its bite.”
I had to get back to something I understood so I went to the regular cereal aisle. My old friends were all there: Toucan Sam, Tony the Tiger, and those elf guys with the onomatopoeia names. But, wait a minute, something is not quite right. There is a new version of Rice Krispies. The box has big letters saying it is an “organic” version. This begs the question if one of the elf guys should change his name. I mean if the cereal is organic and helps your digestive system stay regular maybe the last guy should add another “O” to his name.
Every big corporation wants a piece of the action in supermarkets now. Disney has all sorts of food products. Breakfast cereals, ice cream and even Mickey Mouse lunch meat. You have to admit with the questions surrounding the manufacture of certain kinds of meat products it takes real courage to put a picture of a rodent on your package.
Disney has a lot of marketing experience but this last product has to be a mistake, Old Yeller dog food. Didn’t anybody in the pet food division see the movie? “Our dog food is specially formulated for the family pet that contracts rabies after fighting off an infected wolf to protect the children. Included in every bag - a box of tissue and a bullet!”