Google does a lot of wonderful things. They have the bestest search engine. Their homepage is ridiculously simple (Facebook, Yahoo, everyone else take a hint). And the Doodle is entertaining. You have to love their "Don't Be Evil" motto.
But this time, they have gone too far. Last night, I was enjoying my testosterone by lounging with my feet up on the couch, beer in hand, watching the Steelers at Colts football game. Then, it came on the air. In 60 seconds, I was a blubbering, sobbing mess. They tapped into what I like to call, the Daddy nerve. I've never really had a problem with crying or getting over emotional about stuff, until the Daddy nerve got activated a few years ago. It takes situations that are sad, happy, or otherwise emotional that involve children and projects that moment on to your life. You don't get choked up over what's happening in the movie, show, or whatever you're reading. But when you picture yourself and family in that situation, its game on.
For example, when we watched 'How To Train Your Dragon', there is a father-son story line that had me swallowing back the waterworks while my wife thought it was a "cute" movie. Not that my son and I have a rift that will be healed by an intense bonding experience in a 90 minute movie, but I can picture something like that. Owen wants to be a .400 average right handed power hitter, and I'm disappointed that he won't become a lefty with a 100 mile an hour fastball. Ultimately, he hits the game winning homerun in Game 7 of the World Series and we reconcile at the plate. You know, stuff that's likely to happen.
The worst though is the tragedies that project onto my life. I'm incredibly blessed to have two healthy children, but when the wife was pregnant with Lily and Owen was about 2 years old, there was a story in the local paper about a couple. They had a 2 year old little boy, and got pregnant with a little girl. During an ultrasound, it was determined that the little girl developed without a brain and would not survive after birth. It was devastating, and I made the mistake of reading their story at the office where I spent probably an hour hiding under my desk and trying not to disturb my coworkers.
The only good that came of the story was that the parents defied Dr. orders to terminate the pregnancy and worked tirelessly to overturn rules that said the baby's organs could not be donated to other children in need. This poor child did not survive, but several other kids were helped by the organ donations. Not only was this a tragic story, it had that element of 'We overcame this terribleness to find a way to help others.'
Here is the ad. It's just an awesome, beautiful commercial and I just watched it again for about the fifth time. Still cried, but it's not as bad. I must warn you, if you are a parent, are going to be a parent, or have a soul, have a tissue ready.
I just hope that Google finds restraint and doesn't air it too often during college football and NFL games. The last thing I need is to be in a biker sports bar when it pops on and I'm in the fetal position weeping. Of course, it may be a good way to get free girlie drinks.
CK
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