My husband and I were watching television recently when a commercial for the Swiffer Wet Jet floor cleaner came on. I watched nonplussed as the gleeful woman traded in her dirty, ineffective mop for a super clean, Swiffer with pre-moistened floor cleaning pads.

“Doesn’t that make you angry?” my husband asked. “What?” I asked, intently watching to see how the floor looked before and after. “That,” he said pointing to the TV contemptuously. “You mean all the disposable, wasteful stuff they try to sell us?” I asked. “No,” he said,” the fact that it’s always a woman doing the work in cleaning commercials.”

I get schloads of free magazines at my spa all the time. They send them to spas and salons frequently because it boosts circulation, therefore allowing them to charge more to advertisers. Recently I got one that calls itself ”America's #1 Gay Men's Magazine” and the gay version of Details magazine. I brought it home to page through out of curiosity and to see how the other half of the other half lives.

Based on the magazine, features and ads, this is what I gleaned interests the average young, gay, man.

I was watching television and this commercial for Asmanex came on and it got me thinking, is Asmanex right for me? See, I don’t have asthma so right off the bat I thought, this can’t be right for me. But the guy on the commercial looked like some kind of expert because he had a suit and lab coat on and walked across an all white background very authoritative-like.

Anyhow, he started listing symptoms that might indicate that Asmanex is right for me and I thought yes, I get tired sometimes. I thought that it’s because I have a new baby and she wakes me up a lot but maybe it’s undetected asthma or something like it that would require asthma medication. 

First of all, let me tell you what a pleasure it was to share the MD-80 with you on our flight from Milwaukee to Los Angeles. It was really unfortunate that you occupied the seat in front of me instead of next to me because we could have talked more. Lucky for me you spoke with such vigorous volume that I managed not to miss a word you said, the entire 5 hours.

I would also like to thank you for, how do I say this, accenting the seats around you with the unusual and exotic smells of your airport shop hot dog, mounded with fragrant sauerkraut. Not only did it's fruity aroma permeate better than half the plane but I had always been curious about what one would smell like as it announces its eventual descent. Thank goodness the lingering summer cold I had (that had rendered me unable to breath through my nose) abated just as we were flying home. Otherwise I would have been robbed of this unique sensory delight.