Stiffnecked rubbernecking

Don't waste your clicks pointing out that my subtitle reads "...on the verge of infidelity..." while it's evident--and will become more so, with virtually each post--that, based on Matthew 5:28, I've long-since committed adultery in my heart. Already sorted that one out. But thanks.

Mr. Cliché visits Costco

Yesterday eve, I’m nearing the end of the shopping list, and am shuffling through the pharmacy in search of mosquito repellent. (Yes, in November. Long story.) I’m not having much luck—again, it’s November—and enlist an employee’s help. To enable a quick wrap-up once I’m done in the pharmacy, as we stroll, I recite to him my few remaining items, and he points me in their general directions. Then I turn down an aisle and nearly stumble over a big display for Elizabeth Arden skincare products, with Catherine Zeta-Jones perched atop the famous Red Door, smiling, legs crossed demurely in front of her, toward the camera…toward Me, rather. Not sure how long I stood there like every other Madison Avenued Yahoo before “Sir…sir…sir?” broke the trance.

(Couldn’t find the exact photo, but here’s a substantially similar zoom from a shot of Mrs. Douglas at an Arden store opening. Boy, it’s sure easy to marvel at Two-Kids-And-Approaching-Forty, while ignoring the Hidden Legion of Personal Trainers, Dieticians and Nannies reality.)

August 2009 update: It appears that, to the the delight of all, Arden is continuing the campaign. I passed the display yesterday while picking up a prescription at Costco. Lucky Michael.