"Wow," she says, "Ditka will sell anything."
(By the way, whenever Heather says "Ditka" or "Mike Ditka", she pronounces it like one of the Superfans from the SNL skit years ago even though she’s a native Ohioan. It’s one of the reasons I love her.)
“He doesn’t surprise me anymore,” I replied while trying to wipe the image of another Griese end zone interception from my mind.
“Really? I saw something in today’s paper with Ditka that I bet might surprise you.”
“When it comes to whoring yourself for an advertising dollar, Ditka jumped the shark when he became the spokesman for that Viagra competitor.”
Heather leaves the room and returns with a Sunday flyer for Walmart or Meijer. She flips open to a page and then shows me this:
Iron Mike has got his own salsa now. Of course he wants us to buy it, so he has decided to lend his smiling mug to the packaging and advertising.
In case anyone forgets that salsa is associated with Mexican cuisine and assumes that if Ditka is selling something edible than the food probably contains some form of pork and is a Midwest regional delicacy, he dresses himself up like the Cisco Kid.
I’m sure Ditka had fun with the whole thing, but Heather was right, it did surprise me. And I guess even his advertising scheme is working; I want to give the salsa a try.
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