“This isn’t the soft kind of luxury, this is start a business, sell it, and start another one luxury… you can find you an uncrowded highway or a crowded club… Acura… advanced.”

I realized I started obsessively watching this commercial, frantically trying to peel back layers like covers upon awaking from a nightmare:

What percentage of people at clubs are selling their first business and starting a second? Who wears a red tie to “a crowded club” that isn’t skinny? Who is the target audience for this commercial? Tom from Myspace?

To understand this fully I purchased the song in the commercial, because I was like, sure, let the drummer kick, here’s my dollar. Then I knew the score. The Trustafarian who sings it, Citizen Cope, spends the rest of the commercial, I mean song, doing his best Cajun Man impression.

Having just read “Freakonomics” with Sleepy, I had to do a little legwork to test my theory. Turns out downtown is a really fun and funny, non-scary place to drive around and people watch when you have your own music, are sober, and have insurance. Well, it was scary because I discovered the target market. These “crowded clubs” actually exist, these people exist. Though I sincerely doubt any of them are maverick entrepreneurs, I have no doubt that they want to feel like it even if they’re working for their daddy’s insurance company. They want to feel the crackling electricity of the money, they want to buy the girl in the slinky red dress getting out of a new car. It’s as predictable as a pinball machine lighting up, the mind of this car-buyer.

So they wait out in the stupid cold in long lines in front of the House of Blues(TM) to see a Michael Jackson cover group. I turned down the radio and I could hear the singer. Dude sounded nothing at all like MJ. I nearly died of hilarity.

Acura. Advanced?