The Making of a Superstar

Posted on 17 October 2009

I love helping people succeed or doing something that fulfills a dream for someone.

The other day when I was dishing out the lasagna I had made for supper, I swear I audibly heard the pan say to me:

Please don’t wash or rinse me, let me sit for days and have the lasagna remains crust onto me so much so that it would take a jackhammer to get it off. My dream is to star in a Dawn Dish Detergent commercial, and this is my opportunity for greatness.

I had never heard my dishes speak to me before. The longing for stardom was so evident in the plea that I followed without question.

So I let it sit for DAYS. I mean, I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of its dreams, hopes, and aspirations…now would I?

We waited in anticipation for three days to get the casting call from Dawn’s head office, but it never came. Disappointed and crushed, I decided to step in and make my lasagna dish’s dream come true.

I filled the kitchen sink up with hot water and Dawn Dish Detergent.

An announcement was made and half of it went into the water with the magical soap that makes all things sparkling clean within moments.

After about 5 minutes, I pulled the dish out of the sink with gusto to display the clean and shiny half of the dish only to become completely dismayed.

Turns out, Dawn Dish Detergent is a big, fat liar.

Not only were the hopes and dreams of my lasagna pan completely crushed, I actually had to do the dishes.

So disappointed. Darn that Dawn!!

Dear Dawn Dish Detergent,

Please add in a caveat to your commercials stating that elbow grease, steel wool, and an epic amount of soaking time is required to have the results shown in the commercial. You may be familiar with this type of messaging as all drug companies do it. They show happy people frolicking in meadows free of their ailments because of the wonder drug and then list the side effects that include things like death, liver disease, heart attack, aneurisms, and other horrible things.

Unfortunately, you simply show the happy, rubber gloved hands that are not connected to a body and a clean dish. There was a woman back there that spent 20 minutes of her life getting that dish clean, but somehow this detail is lost in your sales pitch.

For the sake of all lasagna pans out there, we simply want the truth.

Sincerely,

Donloree