Among the ads that most annoyed me during the recent election campaigns were those TV spots that suggested that we call a candidate to chastise them for voting to tax social security or pursing some other evil course of action. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who quickly tired of listening to some sanctimonious, holier-than-thou man or woman instructing me to “Call John Doe. Tell him to stop telling lies.”

I wonder how many people jotted down the phone number on the TV set and then actually dialed it. I also wonder what the subsequent conversation might have sounded like, if by some chance they got through. Maybe something like this: “I’m calling to tell you to stop stealing seniors’ underwear. Oh, you’re not? You’re distributing underwear to seniors? Sorry about that. You want me to call your opponent and tell him to stop telling lies about you? Sure thing.”

Imagine if we resorted to this kind of tactic in our everyday lives. I can imagine my mother’s ad: “Carl Little has never thanked me for taking him and his family to the Bar Harbor Inn for Sunday brunch. Call my son, tell him he should call his mother and beg for her forgiveness. Paid for by the friends of Juliana Little.” Or my wife’s ad: “Carl Little may say he’s taking out the trash, but I know he’s checking the score on the car radio. Call my husband, tell him his little ruse won’t work anymore.”

And what about my kids? I can see it now, some political action committee dedicated to quality-time-deprived offspring buying air time so that Emily and James can reprimand their inattentive father: “Carl Little spends more time in front of the computer writing poems than he does hangin’ with us. Call our Dad, tell him to straighten out his priorities.”

I’m giving fair warning here: If this kind of marketing happens during the next election, I’m going to run my own ad, skipping right to the main message: “Call the candidates, tell them to stop running these dumb ads.” And I’ll bet you some people actually write down the phone numbers and make those calls.

Carl Little lives in Somesville. His new book is “The Art of Maine in Winter.”