I look through the ads in the back of the local alternative weekly, and see, trying to remember if it would be appearing in the other local alternative weekly and deciding it probably wouldn’t be*, an ad for… The Goddamned Menopause: the Musical.

I would not think anything of it, and I’ve seen this ad here for months, except for the blurb at the top of the ad.  “Final Months”.  Plural.   Months.  Not the final weeks.  Not the final month.  The final months.  As in, indefinite.  Months.  No end to sight.  Maybe there’s light at the end of the dark tunnel, but we can’t see it yet.  I would think that this thing would run its course by now, but no… no… it’s just like “What the Bleep Do You Know”, which you can assign a “final months” to and continue for another year.  In fact, somebody should do a mash-up of “What the Bleep” and “Menopause”.

Actually, any opinion of “Menopause: the Musical” is immaterial.  The “Final Months” bother me in terms of its promise of finality (hurry up and see it because it’ll disappear) without stating finality.

The other innovation on the ad, made months back and to my memory not appearing at the start, is a burst saying “Men Love It Too!”  No.  No they don’t.  Men love lots of stupid things, but this is not one of them.  I presume there’s a cadre of women, with a lot of repeat customers — attracted to the “fun baby-boomer soundtrack” I heard the radio advertisement proclaim — wacky parody songs of songs from the late 60s turned to being about menopause–, who bring along their husbands and boyfriends, but no… no… this is marketed to women, and to deny otherwise is to insult everyone’s intelligence.

*The Portland Mercury.  The Willamette Week.  Figure it out yourownself.

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