On Progress

After Dr. Seuss, Dr. Rick is my favorite doctor.

Dr. Rick looks like a high school math teacher and employs the same firm approach to his difficult subject.  He holds seminars and takes his students on field trips to practice applying their knowledge. Sure, Dr. Rick is a Progressive, but I think anyone over the age of 40 can agree with his mission: keeping young homeowners from turning into their parents. 

I have seen myself and my friends in his students:  trying to find the silent button on a smart phone, or coming to the seminar with printed driving directions, or wondering, “Was I hash-tagging?”  I and my friends are guilty of the Live, Love, Laugh signs, yard gnomes, and too many pillows. And how many of the same t-shirts do I own?  I know about coat wrangling, wishing for paper tickets at the airport, worrying about how I will get out of the parking lot before I get inside the arena, and how to pronounce q-u-i-n-o-a?

I love this visual proof that I am not alone, that our shared humanity includes naiveté at every stage of life.  Even as older adults, we have our moments in which we are like innocent preschoolers playing dress-up, trying on dad’s shoes or mom’s apron.  The commercials remind us that sometimes adults must feign being “big” too as in Dr. Rick’s case examples, trying to be knowledgeable and experienced homeowners.  

When we were young, it seemed that our parents were all-knowing and without doubts. I grew up assuming there was some type of “grown-up” switch that when activated, a child became an all-knowing, capable adult.  I never thought for a moment that my parents might not know what they were doing!  I didn’t realize that they had to negotiate their learning curves too.  And that they may have lived with regrets for purchases and decisions made.

When we think of growing older, we picture the graying hair, sagging skin, a little arthritis maybe.  We never imagine the subtle ways in which we age, the ways in which life can leave us behind:  adapting to new technology, our outdated home décor and wardrobes, the things we talk about and who we talk to, and our general loss of confidence in how things work.

These Progressive Insurance commercials were introduced in April 2020 during the pandemic, a time of global strain when we had our doubts that anyone anywhere knew what they were doing.  Perhaps we are there again.  Never has there been a time in my lifespan when we’ve needed to laugh at ourselves more and to recognize our shared humanity and our foibles.  That would be progress!

I guess there are things left to learn at any age.  Thanks, Dr. Rick, for not giving up on us!

And please, someone let me know when Netflix turns these commercials into a series.  I’ve lost my TV Guide.