Black Angus Memories

That fish was what always pushed it over the edge for me. The whole premise was ridiculous, but the fish wriggling fruitlessly in the man’s grip was the bitter cherry on top. That was the point, of course. It was supposed to be over-the-top, tongue-in-cheek, in other words, funny. But it always left me more irritated than amused.

The scene: on a blustery, snow-covered evening, a man wearing a union suit and a cowboy hat sits in a semi-frozen pond, shaving his face. He’s using a large, menacing-looking knife because a straight-edge razor is apparently too tame for him. He claims he’s getting himself “spruced up” for a fancy dinner, though based on the setting, who knows where the hell this restaurant is. After he sets down the knife, he plunges his hand into the icy water and pulls out an enormous fish. He shouts “Appetizer!” before cackling into the icy wind.

Confused yet?

The Black Angus Commercial

Okay, here’s some context for my opening rant. Back in the late 90s and early 2000s, a steakhouse chain called Black Angus aired a series of commercials starring Travis. This fictional character was essentially an exaggerated version of the lone cowboys who populate John Wayne films and other westerns. In a gravelly voice, he’d narrate the various and sundry wonders to be had at Black Angus, from expansive appetizers to decadent chocolate fudge cakes. And he’d regale you with these delights while engaging in some sufficiently “western” activity like playing poker in a saloon or yelling at a bear. At some point, Black Angus added a cowgirl to ensure the ladies felt represented, I guess. Personally, I never connected with her because her sole character trait was pursuing a relationship with Travis.

The fish is the only ad I can recall clearly now, but I do remember disliking all of them. The exaggerated masculinity, the reinforcing of the so-called American West as the exclusive domain of white men, the idea that you have to embody a narrow, heteronormative idea of “tough” to belong there, all this messaging turned me off. But that’s hindsight and academic study talking. Back then, I just thought they were too much. Their premises were too much, there were too many ads, and most of all, they aired too often.

The Context

Okay, that’s the ad, now here’s who I was when I saw them.

In the late 90s and early 2000s, I was an adolescent living in Prescott Valley, Arizona. My parents had cable, and these commercials were part of the regular rotation of ads. You were practically guaranteed to see one of them at least once a day, usually more. Never mind that the closest Black Angus was about a hundred miles away in Phoenix. You were going to see it.

To be fair, there were a lot of different commercials that aired back then, all equally annoying, but the Black Angus ads stood out to me. Their airing coincided with my own increasing dissatisfaction with living in Arizona and my growing desire to live someplace new. The boorishness of its protagonist, the limited view of the West, the celebration of oversized portions, the suspicion of anything remotely urban, it all reminded me of the things I disliked about Prescott Valley and why I wanted to leave.

Which is what I did as soon as I graduated high school. And for twenty years, I didn’t give Travis or his hand-caught fish a second thought.

Why Remember Black Angus Now?

After two decades of living my Black Angus-free life, Travis has recently taken up roost again in my imagination. Out of nowhere, I found myself remembering that silly man and his fish. It bothered me so much that I even looked it up on YouTube and showed it to Brandon (he also thought it was ridiculous).

Nor has that been the only media from my adolescence to crop up. I’ve been thinking intermittently about a lot of high school media memories lately, from TV shows to restaurants. Admittedly, nostalgia garnishes some of these memories. The pizza at Zuma’s probably wasn’t as good as I think it was, but in my memory, it’s spectacular. Mostly though, it’s just recall. Things I haven’t thought about in 20 years are suddenly resurfacing.

But why? I haven’t been back to Prescott Valley in nearly twenty years, and I have no reason or desire to ever return. I also don’t remember my high school years with any particular fondness. Not that it was traumatic or anything like that. As far as high school experiences go Tri-City Prep was fine, good actually. I just remember feeling like I was waiting for my life to really begin, that I needed to get through it so I could move on to college.

But now here I am, thinking about Travis again.

Meeting, Exceeding, and Challenging My Past Self’s Expectations

If I’m honest with myself, I know why Travis and his friends have been cropping up in my memory banks.

2024 will be my 20th high school reunion (though I have no interest in going). It’s also been 20 years since I left Arizona for college. I’ve been living away from home longer than I ever lived there, and I’m far closer to 40 than 20. I am, in other words, looking at middle age. And with that comes retrospection.

You realize that you’re no longer that young, bright-eyed adolescent with big dreams for the future. She’s still part of you, yes, but you’ve also grown into someone else. One that’s more cynical of the world perhaps, but also wiser and more content. I may not have achieved all that my high school self envisioned, not yet, at least. But I also think she’d be pleasantly surprised at what I have done and where I’ve been.

So thinking about these old commercials for me is less about remembering a lost golden age than honoring the memory of who I used to be. Of remembering what had prompted my ambition, and how I can continue to acknowledge it while fulfilling the dreams I have now.

I still have no interest in eating at a Black Angus though. You can keep your fudge cake. And your fish.