Sorry readers, I’m about to dredge up some bad memories, but it’s for a good cause. More on that in a bit. And since bad news sells, here’s a bitter morsel: We’ve had the wettest winter since the space shuttle Atlantis was soaring the stratosphere, and pests are drawing blueprints and getting permits from Mother Nature to invade your home. You know who to call, right? You have the phone number handy, right? Because soon you’ll be needing your local pest management professional.
I know tooting your own horn is considered bad form, but where would homeowners be without us pest professionals? Overrun with crawling, food-stealing, biting critters, that’s where.
Today’s pest professionals are light years beyond those cigar chomping, stubble-faced chemical blasters of old. You remember those grouchy guys, don’t you? Remember how they fired up noisy, smoke-spewing spray rigs bolted in the bed of their rusty old Dodge trucks? Remember how those guys smelled like a pile of oily rags? No wonder they were so grumpy—no woman would touch them with a Teflon-coated ten foot pole.
These days, we pest professionals are highly trained, mostly sweet-smelling men and women equipped with safe, high-tech products that have a big impact on pests, but little impact on people, pets and the environment. Yes, we’ve joined the green revolution, but that doesn’t mean we’re green at it—we’ve been beating bugs with modern tools for decades. (How do you like my slick, corporate style ad copy?)
This is our golden age of pest management and that means this is your golden age of having a safe, pest-free home. That’s reason to celebrate because, sooner or later, everybody needs a Home Defender.
And if anyone thinks I can’t write a straight, no-nonsense pest ad, I submit this article as proof that I can. (Except for that Teflon-coated pole wise-crack, but hey, as us slick corporate ad writers know, sex sells.)