I'm a sucker for "As Seen On TV" products. Back in the 70s, I saw an ad for a Ronco Stud Setter that would let me staple rhinestones to my clothing. I thought this was simply fantastic, so I ordered it and began stapling rhinestones to everything I could think of — my jean jacket, t-shirts, the cat.
Ordering infomercial products quickly became an expensive but rewarding habit. Over the years, I've bought ginsu knives, a RoboMaid, car wax, Hairdini, a disco fever collection on 8-track, a Ballzee, three different juicers, a chia pet, a roll-up piano, and a Lint Wizard. With only one exception — cleaning golf balls with a Ballzee was far from eazy — I have been very excited about the products purchased from the humble folks in Omaha, Nebraska.
That said, the jury is still out regarding my most recent purchase: Ronco Anti-Vampire Cream®, which promised to eliminate the
worry of vampires. Although this review may be a bit premature, I thought it would be wise to write something soon lest I join the ranks of the
undead.
What I Like About the Cream
It appears to work. First and foremost, when the anti-vampire cream is applied, I haven't been bitten by a single vampire. While it may be a logical stretch to say that this cream is working, it would be even more illogical to say that this cream isn't working. In my debate club that meets every Tuesday night, I've posited that if one thing happens after another, there must be a causal relationship between the two events. Opponents have called this reasoning a "post hoc" fallacy. What these naysayers don't understand is that the entire Latin phrase is as follows: post hoc ergo propter hoc ("after this therefore because of this"). The Latin translation makes my argument for me! In sum, after applying the cream, I have not been bitten by a single vampire. 'Nuff said.
The directions for applying the cream are well written. I had no problem applying the cream or wearing the duvet that Ronco threw in for free because I acted right then.
What I Don't Like about the Cream
The garlic smell. Couldn't they have used a different herb, like thyme or arugula? I had to drop another $19.95 on Urine B-Gone® just to offset the smell.
The warning. "Note: This cream has no effect on chupacabras." I wasn't particularly worried about vampires before I first purchased the anti-vampire cream. It just seemed like a good idea. Better safe than sorry and all that. Now, after spending $19.95 and applying a stinky garlic cream every night before going to bed, I lie awake at night listening for odd sounds that a vampire might make. Or a chupacabra.
The warranty. "This cream is 100% guaranteed to prevent vampires for biting you in any area to which the cream is applied, or your money back." My money back? I can just imagine the conversation:
Ronco: Customer service, may I help you?
Me: I sure hope so. I got bit by a vampire even though I was wearing your cream!
Ronco: I'm terribly sorry, sir. We've had some problems with a bad batch sent out of Memphis. Before I reimburse your money, I have to ask a few questions. Are you sure it was a vampire that bit you? It wasn't a bat?
Me: No, it was a vampire. I'm sure. He was wearing a black suit with an upturned collar and there was creepy organ music. He just left a couple minutes ago.
Ronco: Did you do anything to provoke the vampire?
Me: You mean besides applying anti-vampire cream?
Ronco: Sir, I know this is a difficult time for you, but let's try to get through this without sarcasm, m'kay?
Me: Sorry, I'm upset that my skin is turning pale and my eyes are all a-glow. I feel funny. Something is happening...
Ronco: OK, sir, if you send us your receipt and a proof-of-purchase seal, we'll refund your $19.95.
Me: I care not about ze money! I vant to see my reflection in the mirror! How do I fix zis?
Fortunately, with the help of Ronco Anti-Vampire Cream, I've avoided any such confrontation.
Rating
**1/3
-Bob