Loggia Grumbles About Calcium, Children Rejoice An attractive family is sitting around the breakfast nook one morning. Mom and Dad are trying to get little Billy to drink new Minute Maid Orange Juice with Calcium. The idea of drinking calcium is putting Billy off, so he refuses. Mom and Dad insist that despite the addition of calcium, the juice is still sweet. Billy remains skeptical, defiantly snarling "I don't believe you." His patient, balding dad asks, "Well, who would you believe?" Billy figures he'll pick a celebrity so well-known, so famous, so utterly unattainable, there's no chance in hell that celebrity will wander into his house. That'll show his parents and their goddamn orange juice. So, he says, "I don't know, Robert Loggia?" Not Michael Jordan, not Harrison Ford, not Will Smith, not Puff Daddy, not Cindy Crawford, not even the late Bing Crosby (hey, this is Minute Maid). Hard-bitten character actor Robert Loggia. Now, we have nothing against Robert Loggia. He's a fine actor. But does he really have the kind of fame that gets picked up on a ten-year-old's radar? Let's play this out. Figure Billy was born in 1987. Starts watching videos that don't involve Wallace and Grommet in, say, 1996, the year Independence Day came out. Still, no matter how many times a kid sees that flick, is it likely to register that Loggia is the fellow who played General William Grey? Even if Billy becomes fascinated by Loggia's work from Independence Day, how does he feed his new habit? Yes, he might rent Big, but is he also screening Prizzi's Honor? Is he so taken with Loggia's turn as brother Frank in the awful bio-pic about Yankee skipper Joe Torre? Do his parents have every episode of Mancuso, FBI in their video library? In the ad, not surprisingly, an endorsement-thirsty Robert Loggia does indeed show up at Billy's house. The exchange goes something like this: Billy: Whoa! Robert Loggia! Loggia: Billy, your mom's right. New Minute Maid does taste great, and it's got as much calcium as milk. Billy: If you say so, Mr. Loggia! Loggia: Yeah. Enjoy your breakfast. Look, we're not saying the plain-spoken Loggia wouldn't make a forceful spokesperson. Something like "Hi, I'm Robert Loggia. That's right, Pappy Jack from Gladiator. I've got some news for you about new Minute Maid with Calcium," etc., would be perfectly serviceable. But trying to convince us that Robert Loggia is a household name, especially among pre-teens, is akin to the lengths (and money) bug-eyed mogul Aaron Spelling goes to convince us his daughter Victoria is desirable. No one's buying it. Angry Girl

You know, come to think of it: Cindy Crawford ain't in enough damn commercials anymore. Sure she's got that stupid diamond spot with her mom, but what happened to Pepsi's Cindy Crawford U.? If you miss The Mole, tell us about it. For what 1998 products would Cindy's talent, such as it is, be best suited?