Now that the mornings are cool and inviting, I've resumed my walks around Lake Jerry Paul. During the extremely hot months, I've gotten my exercise by walking up four flights of stairs, instead of taking the elevator in my apartment building. I've never had a challenging thought in all those walks up the stairs. But, this morning, while walking by the lake, it occurred to me to try to have a thought without using words. Try it. You can't either, right? So, if words are the tools of "thinking," (logic?), it becomes crucial that the words we use have the right (correct) definition. Otherwise, we're liable to come up with some very scrambled results (screwed up ideas and conclusions). For example, we're not supposed to use "refugee" to describe those who took shelter or protection from "Katrina" in the various sports arenas and other places. But that's what a refugee is, "one who flees from his home to take shelter and protection elsewhere." No, can't use that. The "gods of political correctness" have decreed the word to use, "evacuee." The first meaning of evacuate is, "to make empty." The second meaning is, "to discharge (excrement, etc.)." It's only way down the definition list that we find, "to remove, send away." It's the same in every dictionary that I have consulted, and I have consulted those that cost 97 cents used, and those great huge thick things in the library that must have cost hundreds of dollars. To check myself, I looked up a second common word, "moron," in those same publications. I looked up the second word, because, in this age of believing that the more a thing costs the better it is, some people might think that a cheaply bought (used?) dictionary is not to be relied upon, which, in itself, provides a perfect example of the definition of a moron. A moron, then, is a person who is "mentally deficient, but less so than an idiot or imbecile." That definition is from "Webster's New World Dictionary of the American Language." I bought that edition used, for a dollar. Anyway, that's not what we want to examine. We've got a larger topic today. The subject is how the clever use of "designer words" kidnaps the brain. Before we start, some of you boys might not want to attempt this column today without the aid of your wives.

What do advertisements that appear in magazines predict about the readers of those magazines? Or asked another way, why would the giant, and highly dependable, drug firm, Pfizer, place an expensive full page ad in the Reader's Digest that begins with the bold type heading, "Do you ever feel like an accident waiting to happen?" The ad shows an attractive woman pushing at a restroom door. At the bottom of the restroom door there is more bold type urging the reader to, "Then stop and take this quiz."

The psychologically entrapping quiz has just three questions to be answered, by checking yes or no. Here's the quiz. "Do you ever: Have frequent strong urges to urinate? Go more than eight times a day? Get up more than twice a night to go?" The reader is then counseled to call a toll-free number: "If you answer yes to any of these questions, call toll-free for your FREE Guide to Understanding Overactive Bladder."

The highly respected firm, Pfizer, has been apparently advised by psychologists, marketing experts, and ad agencies that the majority readers of Reader's Digest are at an age when the symptoms (cleverly marched through the mind of the reader as a "quiz") of untrustworthy "bladder control" are likely to have begun to appear. Thus, the readers of Reader's Digest are definitely likely new customers for their drug.

Other new customers to be gained from the Reader's Digest ads include the manufacturer (not Pfizer this time) of arthritis pain medications. The full page ad for one pain medication shows an aging couple contentedly sitting on a solidly middle class sofa. The nice looking "believable" couple is beaming before an old fashioned, and suggestive of "stable," flowered wallpaper background. Next to their picture are the words, "They just found out their pain medication could put them at risk for a stomach ulcer." This red-flag-attention-grabber is followed by the larger print question: "So why don't they look concerned?" Now comes the sales pitch, "If you're taking pain medications such as ibuprofen, naproxen or aspirin, as directed by your doctor, there's something you should know." Then comes, in bold print, "If you are more than 60 or have had a previous stomach ulcer, continuous use of these medications puts you at risk for a stomach ulcer." So, why don't they look concerned? The implication is that they are "safely" taking the pain meds being advertised, thus all's well with their tummies? On the other hand, if the couple were to take up the casually suggested warning "to read the important information" about the new product on the adjacent page, they might not continue to look so smug.

It develops that the information on the "adjacent page" can be read, by most people my age (70), only if one has a magnifying glass, and the determination to read a whole page of "insurance" size, near microscopic, single spaced hair-raising warnings.

So what's the point? The sales pitch is in large format. Many of us taking aspirin daily would take this ad to the doctor and campaign for the "safer" Product X. We were trapped by the ad's large, easily read, words and a pretty picture. The second point is that the advertisers know the readers of the Reader's Digest are most likely taking one of the "scary"(demonized) drugs listed in larger print on the frontal page of the ad. And third, one can tell a lot about the expected mind set of readers of magazines by the ads placed in those magazines. The advertisers know who we are. Thus, their job is simple: 1. Attract (bait) us. 2. Scare us. 3. Save us (by buying their product).

I've tried to give a synopsis (that means a brief general review and condensed summary, boys) of how magazine ads for new drugs, aimed at an aging population, ambush our minds.

Finally, the safest way to keep us from injuring or killing ourselves with advertised medications, and so-called "natural" supplements, is to find a local pharmacist who knows (with the help of his computer) what we're taking, and never take a "new med" without consulting that local pharmacist.

Kenneth Kinchen is an independent writer with a background in international business and foreign service contracting.