Were the Honda Corporation executives prescribed a diet of magic mushrooms? I wonder as I try to determine why they would turn their holiday commercials into a non-stop promotion of the frozen-faced shrieker named Michael Bolton. If I stepped on a cat’s tail I’d produce a similar, but better-quality sound.

I’d thought we’d get relief after Christmas, but Honda showed no mercy. It forced me to rediscover where the mute button was after years of not needing it. And maybe that is the reason why Honda latched on to this AARP lounge lizard: You simply can’t tune him out if the sound is on. And the impression he makes, while he appears to be passing a kidney stone, is indelible. Try as you might, you can’t make it go away.

I realize some people like his music and this fact reinforces my belief that there is NO accounting for taste. A friend let me know that Bolton once sang with Pavarotti and he was wonderful. And the “he” she was referring to was Bolton. That’s like taking the kid who the dogs don’t even like and tying a pork chop around his neck. All of the sudden dogs of all types find him more appealing.

So what is Bolton gaining for Honda? Buzz, I suppose. I’m talking about him and so are others. But the buzz words it’s producing are all bad: embarrassing, excruciating… I recently checked to see if my ears had an on-off switch. 

I’m sure they’ve researched it, but Bolton just dated the Honda brand, cheapened it, and made it one I would never consider owning. It would be like rewarding someone who entered my living room on a daily basis and mugged me.

[My apologies in advance to the die-hard Bolton fans. Just some humor before the New Year. Have a Happy New Year!]