Doodle bug (me)

So lately I've been seeing a lot of fake doodling in advertisements and it's really starting to annoy me. At first, I thought it was clever. I even felt a fond wave of nostalgia for the doodling that marks our youthful days. I'm to the point now where I'm starting to resent Madison Ave for doing such a bad job of it.

Case in point:

This is an ad for Kellogg's -- its design is like a giant cereal bowl of doodles kids can never escape.

Now compare that with doodles from my 8th grade yearbook:


Clearly, there's no comparison.

I think back on all the doodles I drew and shared with friends (especially Jenn Grill -- now Ritter -- my best friend and co-conspirator in a 7th grade attempt to sketch and make fun of everyone who lived in Coral Springs, FL).

None of my adolescent doodles mentioned a love of Captain Crunch cereal. Most of our sketches came from a place of pure evil; in fact, the capture of one landed me in detention for a week with "Admiral Asshole" (from the doodle pictured above).

Why would advertisers think they could safely mine such a treacherous shaft? I'm guessing it all started with 2004's "Napoleon Dynamite," whose innocent "ligers" were quintessential dork doodles.

Shortly after the surprise success of that movie, I started noticing t-shirts in Delia's, Urban Outfitter's and Alloy catalogs that were close representations of school-inspired doodles (thy muse being Boredom).

Ah, if only they WERE lifted out of actual notes, I might buy one. Nothing compares to the real thing. No advertising exec can match the evil wit of a bored 13-year-old.

And even if they could, it's unlikely that any corporation would want real doodles selling their products ("be a Cokehead like Kate" with someone snorting a can of Coca Cola off a mirror, for instance).

It makes me wonder: At what point do our doodles cease to be creative, clever, evil and fun? My adult doodle life is mostly my name in a cloud of lightning and bubbles. I've observed other adults doodling those lame-ass boxes within boxes (yawn!). It's sad what becomes of our doodling lives as we age. Does anyone do a good job of it over the age of 25?

Of all the nostalgic doodling going on in advertising now, I think JC Penney does it best (their throw-back "Breakfast Club" commercials are dead-on awesome). Check out their cute take on the classic "doodle heart" renderings we've all scratched at one point:


p.s. Incidentally, Molly Ringwald used doodle "product placement" back in 1984's "Sixteen Candles." Her 3-ring binder has "The Rave-Ups" doodled across the back (she was such a fan of the band that they later appeared in "Pretty in Pink" playing in the background of the club scene). Not sure how successful she was since the only people who bought their album were Molly and her sister, Beth.

Time travel to another "Galaxy"

A month or so ago, my cousin Frankie (age 29) texted me one night: "guess where i'm at." The possibilities seemed endless. "Um, in a hotel room with Marv Albert?" I texted back. Frankie replied, "no, galaxy skateway in davie!"

For most grown-ass adults, the reaction might be "why?" or "who cares?" As one who still has her first pair of Riedells and enjoys skating in Central Park's circle at 72nd Street, a little part of me died when the last indoor skating rink in NYC closed two years ago. So, it was with too much excitement that I texted back (flush with jealousy), "NO F'N WAY! We're soooo there when I'm in FL next month!"

And so it went. I arrived in FL last Thursday morning and was at Galaxy Skateway that night for "Adult Skate" in Davie with my cousin and his friend. Just like that, I was transported back to middle school (this is a good thing). As we pulled into the parking lot, I wasn't sure what I was more afraid of: falling on my ass or OD'ing on nostalgia.



See, my formative years were spent on roller skates. When I was in elementary school (1978-83), I went every Wednesday with an after-school program to Galaxy Skateway in Margate, FL (about 15 miles north of Davie). Skating on hideous brown and orange rentals (with a bum wheel coated in gum) on a dangerously-smooth cement rink, I grooved to disco like Cheryl Lynn's "Got to Be Real" and early hip hop like "Pack Jam" by the Jonzun Crew. "Good Times" (think Chic) for real.

Then, from 1984-87, I spent nearly every Friday night skating with my friends round and round a much nicer hardwood circle at Coral Springs Skating Rink (now a Pep Boys). I say "nearly" because I was grounded for an entire summer between 7th and 8th grade (a most sinister attack on my social life by the 'rents). The first "big ticket" item I ever bought myself was my Riedell 2-stripe speed skates. After saving all summer between 6th and 7th grades, I finally bought them ($106 is a lot of babysitting and b-day $ for an 11-yr-old).

By that time, skating had evolved to "shuffling" so my friends and I would line up in pecking order (alpha female first and so forth -- the alpha usually had a brush in the back pocket of her Guess jeans). We'd shuffle for hours around the rink to jams like Trinere's "All Night" and Egyptian Lover's "Egypt, Egypt." When our feet throbbed from shuffling, we'd line up again (in our socks now) to perform dances such as the Cabbage Patch for whatever boys happened to be watching. Luckily, 14-yr-old boys are easy to impress.

Flash to April 2008 and Davie's Galaxy Skateway (where I'd never been before). On the outside, it looked just like the one in Margate. I worried how I'd do on a cement rink but was happy to see it was a hardwood one just like Coral Springs'. From the weird bullet-proof glass booth they make the cashier sit in at the front entrance (it's only $10 to get in -- how much money could possibly be in the register?) to the stale carpeting and "Donkey Kong" video games, it was as though time had stood still.


Not sure what the purpose of a clock is in a place where time doesn't exist.

I rushed over to the skate rental counter (brown and orange skates still in operation) and happily told the ancient man behind it that I wanted speed skates in size 8. Yep, they now rent Riedells (oh, what that would've done for my rep in 6th grade!). Giddy with excitement, I laced them up and hit the floor (not literally, thank God) before Frankie grew tired of my "and then this other time" stories.

Because it was "adult skate night," the DJ was playing old school songs from the days of 12" singles. Hea-ven! MC Shy-D's "Gotta Be Tough" was the first song, then K.J. an' da Fella's "Get Retarded (Now Go!)," then the Megatrons' "Rock the Planet" and then my head started spinning. No wait, that was the jacked up wheels of my skates about to take me into the wall. Ugh! Rentals still suck even when they're Riedells? WTF?!


Me and my cousin Frankie embracing the non-brown skate.

Okay, back at the rental counter to get a different pair, this time size 7. Perfect! (trick: if you can wiggle your toes, you'll be on your ass) Back on the floor, I quickly found myself shuffling again, even after all these years. By the 20th time around the rink, I started to realize why my legs were built like a brick shithouse as a teenager. My cousin's friend (who had come with her inline skates only for exercise purposes) shouted to me, "ugh, I wish they'd reverse the skating direction so we could work the other leg!"

"Whatever, weird adult lady," I thought. It was as though I had time traveled to another "Galaxy" and was once again feeling my 8th grade self (but now a very satisfied 36C). Granted, I wasn't as good as the other adults whose shuffling skills suggested they hadn't missed a Friday night since '88. There were even skate dance crews in the center of the rink and girls in Guess jeans! With the triangle and question mark logo, no less!

In fact, it was so '80s skating rink that the social pecking order was also very much intact despite the fact that most of us were in our late 20's and 30's. This became very obvious during the "speed skate" session where only the "coolest" were on the rink (with the lights turned up so all could observe and approve of their coolness).

Wait, reality check: I was in Davie, FL. At a roller skating rink. On adult skate night. It was a dorkfest, probably. But for just a few hours, it was sooooo cool to be back in '86.


Lights on for the "cool" kids while I finally got my shuffle on in these rentals.


For those who have no freakin' idea what "shuffling" is, this is close enough.