My original intention was to write a column about the marketing of Obamacare to millennial youths. Indeed, up until last week, it seemed to be the big story, since the economic well-being of the Affordable Health Care Act itself rests on enough young, healthy people signing up. The theory is that this cadre of "Young Invincibles" in turn would subsidize the cost of insuring the mass of older, sicker Americans. (Should we call them "Vanquished Elders?" Or just "frequent users"?)

Last Tuesday, I caught the debut of "The Crazy Ones," the CBS sitcom created by David E Kelley, featuring Robin Williams and Sarah Michelle Gellar. There's definitely a tone problem with the show: violently uneven, the pilot swings from Williams' manic, razzmatazz riffs to "American Idol"-ish musical moments to scenes between a childlike, divorced father and his adult daughter/partner that become almost maudlin.

We're on pins and needles here at the home office, sweating and jumping around, because this Sunday marks the end of "Breaking Bad." Yup -- a glorious example of the golden age of non-network TV, the violent, sprawling, hyper-brilliant Vince Gilligan production is the absolute video storytelling equivalent of the Great American Novel.

"The issue is role models. You can't be what you can't see." That's a quotation from Cindy Gallop, an advertising entrepreneur who has lately made the issue of the ever-widening, or at least really-slow-to-close gender gap in the ad business her business.

"Go with the 'Fro!" screams the front-page headline of today's Daily News, announcing the winner of the New York City mayoral Democratic primary. It's Bill de Blasio, with 40% or so of the vote. It might seem insane to say that a head of hair, no matter how eye-catching or excellent, could win the mayoralty. But in this case, it's true. The 'fro knows.

Last December, I wrote a column about Samsung's surprisingly deft advertising swat against Apple's swaggeringly superior branding operation. The surprise to me was how vulnerable Apple had become, image-wise, in the relatively short time since Steve Jobs' death. Still, I'm sorry to report that, almost one year later, in a very crowded market, the Apple ads have gotten worse.

"Young lady, put down that foam finger. Right now! And what did I say about keeping your tongue in your mouth?" That's a mother/teen daughter interaction that I hope won't be happening in any American households as a result of Miley Cyrus' performance Sunday night on MTV's Video Music Awards.

Ever have one of those days when you just want to settle in with your vegetable sandwich, snuggle up to your Mom, and rap about aspartame? No? I haven't, either. But that didn't stop the Coca-Cola Company from launching a mysterious one-page newspaper ad providing information about the safety of the fake sweetener last week.

Backwater areas of prudery still exist in our culture, particularly about female bodily functions. Take menstruation. Now there's a four-syllable term that can clear a room. But as Joan Rivers says, "Grow up!" It's just biology. Still, given all of the built-in resistance that still exists, who could have predicted that the sleeper hit of the season would be "Camp Gyno," a viral video featuring an aggressive 10-year-old girl at camp who, once she gets her period, becomes a menstrual monster.

I used to be such a fan of Woody Allen's that, to paraphrase one of the inspired bits in "Annie Hall," I didn't just love him, I leafed him, I loofed him, I luurrrved him. But then the super-prolific writer/director auteur "fell in love" with his then-girlfriend Mia Farrow's adopted daughter, Soon-Yi, when he was 56 and she was 20, and a sister to his and Mia's own young biological son. And at that point, I, like a lot of his audience, took a breather from the Woody worship.