Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, June 20, 2019, 10:47 a.m.

Advertising has never been particularly important to me. I’ve spent most of my life working for newspapers, but I have my own small role in their decline. I’ve never paid any attention to the ads. Apparently, I was not alone.

In a very small way, I cut my own throat.

I just can’t see the reasoning in buying insurance from a little cartoon general driving a red Corvette and hanging out with Shaquille O’Neal. Nothing against Shaq. I just think insurance is a more serious matter.

It is absurd for pharmaceutical companies to advertise their products to the general public. They should advertise to doctors. I’ve got a routine appointment today, and I’m not going to beg my doctor to put me on Xarelto. He’s the expert. It makes no sense, and the only possible reason for Big Pharma to advertise so lavishly is that they are just making too damn much money.

I hold grudges, too. I like Kentucky Fried Chicken, but I haven’t bought any since the stupid commercials began running. George Hamilton as Col. Sanders? I thought it was ridiculous when he played Hank Williams in a movie. Those commercials sent me to Bojangles when I occasionally crave fried chicken.

I virtually stopped going to Walmart when its old “Buy American” campaigns were revealed to be frauds. I only go there when there is absolutely no alternative due to emergency. I bought a camera battery there a couple of months ago. I’m guessing the Super Center in Laurens has been open for more than a decade. I’ve been in it four times, and one was to take a photo.

This morning I was thinking about the latest high-tech alarm, that being the doctoring of video to make it look as if anyone can have his remarks doctored to say anything. A few weeks ago, President Trump forwarded a video showing Nancy Pelosi with her speech slowed down to make it look like she was drunk. Fortunately, I am past the point of believing anything he says or does or tweets.

But can you imagine what high-tech, trick video is going to do for KFC, Wendy’s and Jimmy Dean sausage? Col. Sanders can appeal to a new generation of texting kids. Dave Thomas can extol the virtues of, God forbid, vanilla Frosties. Jimmy Dean can sing a new verse of “Big, Bad John” with a happy ending full of sausage biscuits for the surviving miners.

Fortunately, I have evolved into a cynical adult who sees through the propaganda.

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My eighth novel is called Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

Lightning in a Bottle is now available in an audio version, narrated by Jay Harper.