Our next vacation.

I used to want to take a vacation in a car commercial. No one else around, weather perfect, great car and the open road. But no more! I have a better destination in mind now. Someplace where money is no object and the natives are all friendly. I want us to take our next vacation in a prescription drug ad.

Oh, sure, a lot of them look gloomy at first. The figures who appear initially on the screen are often suffering from the hideous ailment the drug is meant to treat. But soon the clouds part, the smiles start, and the film goes from black-and-white to color.

Hooray! while I run through whatever this place is!

More to the point, money is never a problem for anybody in these ads. They live where everything is just awesome except for the ailment that has just been treated. Beaches, mountains, clean and safe parks, large houses, yoga classes, fine restaurants, quaint towns with every storefront occupied -- in real life these are mainly occupied by or found in the neighborhoods of rich people. These are the kinds of places our patients are shown enjoying life in drug ads.

Even if they're stuck in black-and-white.

The ones who are shown working? Usually they're in a modern office with smiling coworkers, or more often they're shown doing something creative and wholesome, like pottery or music. Laughing and being playful is a major occupation. Garbage collectors and assembly line workers never get to be treated with pharmaceuticals on TV.  Or on the Web sites.

Reimagine money.

It just seems like a great place to be. There's usually a dog, too. Dogs always help.

"Helping!"

I guess I would want to be a little picky about which commercial I wanted to stay in. Some of them go too far to show that people with cooties or creeping crud or whatever can live happy, active lives. These folks spend the length of the commercial running around like lunatics, laughing through concerts and hot-air ballooning and snowboarding and swimming and cooking classes and God knows what else. If I were that manic I might want a tranquilizer. I don't want to work harder on vacation than I do at work.

I also wouldn't want to be in a Cialis ad. What the hell is it with those bathtubs? Who wants to sit in a bathtub on the beach? Is this what promotes togetherness -- being apart?

Weird.

So I'm calling my doctor, my pharmacist, and my travel agent to see where we can go. Maybe a nice antidepressant ad. They always end well.