Gender Killed The TV Star

In Robitussin's famous ads, men and children line up to see "Dr. Mom." But where is "Dr. Dad?" Nowhere. Why? Because in the world of TV commercials, characters adhere to a strict code of gender behavior: men must seem helpless, and women must have loving relationships with household cleaning products.

Commercials rarely if ever deviate from these stereotypes. Kix cereal: Kid tested, mother approved. And what about dad? His vote would break the stereotype. Breakfast, its execution, and more importantly its clean-up, belongs to the mother.

According to the grounding principals of advertising, men in commercials must appear as larger, paunchier versions of their slovenly children. (The messes men create, however, can be more serious: they may involve ill-fated attempts at home repair.)

Historically, men may have been founders of industry, financial wizards, even sea captains, but in modern commercials, they're mostly inert. They lie helplessly on their sofas, awaiting rescue by (1) their eye-rolling wives; (2) a home-improvement professional; or (3) beer.

But their women are not lonely, nor are they frustrated that the housecleaning is their sole responsibility. Women have deep and meaningful affairs with their Brawny paper towels.

And with their Swiffers. (Which, by the way, is the kind of house-cleaning implement that makes women dance around to the tune of Devo's "Whip It.") In one Swiffer ad, a woman has to remind her houseguest, "you're cleaning my house again," as the over-eager cleaner, lured by the rhythmic efficiency of the Swiffer, can't resist doing someone else's chores.

But why are only women allowed to access the seductive joys of, say, Lysol wipes? The answer is clear: women are just naturally gifted with a love for housecleaning. Lucky there are women around! Without them, the world would be a lot dustier.

Perhaps, years from now, advertisers may believe that men can be convinced to buy detergent. Only then will we see that great day when girls and boys, of all colors, creeds and nations, will join hands while expertly swiping down their kitchen tables. But it may be a while. All the men (ad executives included) are alseep on the couch.

— Liz Khalil (thegreatlizby@yahoo.com)