Dedication
“I’m not a real doctor, but I play one on TV.”
Those immortal words were spoken in a 1986 cough syrup commercial by actor Peter Bergman. At the time, he played Doctor Cliff Warner on the popular daytime soap opera “All My Children.” The commercial featured the well-coiffed Dr. Warner, dressed in his oh-so-traditional lab coat and backed by a blue-tile wall that screamed “THIS IS A HOSPITAL.” He started out with the aforementioned line, “I’m not a real doctor, but I play one on TV,” which would have been enough to send most patients running for the nearest malpractice lawyer. Despite this rather unimpressive preamble, Dr. Warner proceeded to extol the virtues of Vicks 44 cough medicine as if he was one of the Brothers Mayo.
The commercial itself enjoyed a limited but successful run, earning Vicks 44 a few additional percentage points in market share. That opening line, however, has lived beyond it’s time. Indeed, it has become something of a cult classic, the darling of countless stand-up routines and cocktail party conversations. The phrase “I’m not a real blank” has become the ultimate pop-culture disclaimer.
Just to be clear: People knew he wasn’t a doctor. They knew his diagnoses came from a scriptwriter working at minimum-scale. They knew the closest he ever came to being a real doctor was when a pediatrician slapped his butt at birth. Yet they bought the stuff anyway. I only wish I could dream up a scheme half that good.
If Mr. Bergman has taught me anything, it’s that a proper presentation can make all the difference between utter crap and pure gold. So, as you find yourself reading the rants and musings of a college dropout with a grade-point average that a two-year-old could count to, remember - - I’m not a real blogger, but I can play one on TV.
