2009: Goodbye to All That | Adweek 2009: Goodbye to All That | Adweek
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2009: Goodbye to All That

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So long, 2009, and thanks for all the fun.

I'm talking to you, Balloon Dad! Never mind that you wanted to name your next kid Mylar. (I'm totally making that up.) The truth is horrible enough: You forced your young son to hide, lie and then vomit on national television. OK, tut-tut to all that. But let's look at the bright side: If your actions resulted in even just one future reality TV show getting its plug preemptively pulled, then we all owe you a giant bucket of gratitude.
 
That goes for you too, Jon Gosselin!

After standing every day at the fence of your former Pennsylvania estate (that TLC-supported palace that now belongs to Kate), hoping to wave and smile at paparazzi who no longer turn up, you've probably taken to smoking three packs a day, eating like late-phase Elvis and cursing Tiger Woods. That's OK. Nobody's perfect. And no one rocks the cubic zirconium ear studs with the élan you bring to them.

By the way, has any reviewer made the point that people liked Jon & Kate Plus 8 because the kids were cute -- and that when they were really little and toddled around together, they were like goslings?

Actually, Jon, years from now, I can see you sitting in a rocking chair, wearing a dress and a Kate wig, muttering.

And merci to all of Tiger's mistresses. Thank you, one and all. (Which is what, 14 or 15 at last count, with at least 40 percent of them named Jamie? And let's not forget the one Jamie's aunt, who also got a few seconds in on Entertainment Tonight.) Who knew being a "VIP hostess" could be so complicated? Or that blonde women in their 20s could look so hard and old.

And although Tiger's behavior makes Don Draper look faithful, he did us a favor by bringing to light an underground economy that has kept us all going for the last 10 years. Where has all the money gone? To bottle service, everyone! Yes, that's where upscale bars and nightclubs sell entire bottles of liquor to patrons for their personal consumption -- at a 2,000 percent markup.

While you were scraping along, hoping not to lose your job and/or your health benefits, these women were out there enjoying a multibillion-dollar financial bonanza. In fact, never mind all the talk of mortgage failure and personal bankruptcy. Let's dub the still-nameless oughts, those still-tender years between 2000 and 2009, the Bottle Service Decade. Thank you, Jamies! We owe you guys a lap dance!

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