Mindless Marketing

Today's word of the day: eleemosynary
\el-ih-MAH-suh-nair-ee\ adjective: of, relating to, or supported by charity

I've been working in marketing for three years and now I have a completely different understanding of all print, television, radio, or digital advertisements, commercials, and messages. Gone are the days when I thought "oh, that's pretty," or "hmm, kind of weird but I'm sure I'll remember it." I come across the simplistic of ads and think, "I wonder what it might look like with a lighter PMS color," or "Geez, I can only image how many versions this designer had to work with." Less is more... marketing resources.

Therefore, I'd like to bring your attention to a pop-up advertisement that was recently delivered to my computer at work:

Now, while I usually steer clear from these types of advertisements, something unusual caught my eye right away (besides the fact that when scrolling over the little people, they flip upside down). The advertisement calls upon you to click on your age, ranging from 16 - 60+. Simple, right?

However, the person above 60+ looks exactly the same as the little blonde in the 16-19 range. Furthermore, the same happy boy is pictured under 25-29 and 45-49. Same goes for the brunette under 20-24 and 40-44 in a star-wars-like hair-do. Thus, technically, this advertisement indirectly states that those aged 60+ will never look a day over 19. Or someone aged 25-29 can have just as bright of a smile as someone who is 45-49 (and no frown lines). Heavens, one might be tempted to avoid picking their age (which is well known as a sensitive subject for some) and pick the little figure that most resembles their physical appearance.

Nevermind the people for now, everyone in the picture is driving a blue car. What about the drivers in the world who have red cars, white cars, green cars? Will they feel excluded from this ad, which clearly caters to those with a taste for blue. Dupont tells us that in 2007, white was the most popular color in North America, making up 19 percent of all vehicles. And Silver, black, red and gray rounded out the top five. Blue was #6.

Clearly this is just me, and my mindless marketing, but I do feel that my thoughts and suggestions cater to an eleemosynary cause. For example, today I noticed a man going into the Kinkos on Park Avenue. He tried opening the right door first, which was locked. He then, through the process of elimination, chose the left door which swung open easily. I have frequented this Kinkos regularly in my three-year career, and guess what? Every time, I choose the right door. This obviously needs a focus group.

Subway Cowboy

Today's Word of the Day: contemn
\kun-TEM\ verb: to view or treat with contempt : scorn

I usually don't sit down on the subway in the mornings, but because two seats opened up before me at Fulton Street I decided, well why not? So I nestled in at the end of the bench, quite happy really.

Amidst the rumbling, I noticed the sound of slow swaying steps and out of the crowds emerged a serious looking cowboy, ready and prepared for anything that the MTA might throw his way. His deliberate steps moved him closer and closer to the empty seat next to me.

Crocodile Dundee? maybe... he did have the miniature-vest look going, he wasn't very tan, and way to hairy.

Wyatt Earp? maybe... he did have a mustache that mirrored the legendary lawman's (I was seeing Kurt Russell's in Tombstone without the sexy factor) and he did seem to possess the ability to contemn the souls of outlaws.

Contrary to Monday's lapse of complete alertness in the midst of petty theft, I was fully aware of this cowboy as well as the fact that we were sharing limited amounts of personal space and oxygen.

Silently thanking myself for keeping my sunglasses on in the subway today, I decided to, every few seconds glance in his direction. He was reading the New York Times. His big fingers wrapped around paragraphs and brought the words close to his face. The jeans he donned smelled as dirty as they looked, and were partially covered by tall, black rubber muck boots (whether or not he had spurs, I didn't check). His open vest was host to a walkie-talkie which rested gently against his bare chest, and a red-light contraption was situated on the back of his collar. On his head sat a wide brimmed black western-style hat. A thick set of keys, hung by a metal clip at his waist, splayed every which way across the bench like stubby roots. Every so often he checked the time on a black wrist watch. Where was he going?

Good Samaritan

Today's word of the day: inordinate
\in-OR-dun-ut\ adjective: exceeding reasonable limits : immoderate

Yesterday was a good day. I was fairly productive at the office and towards the end of the day, I had compiled several lists of things that I needed at the grocery store and the drug store. One of my favorite Duane Reade locations (on Park) is close to my office, so I made the decision to tackle the drug store list right after leaving the office.

I entered the store and headed for the body wash. In the isle, I saw a man facing the shelves with a gaping, shabby plastic bag. Before I knew it, his hands were grabbing various lotions, body washes, and bubbles off of the shelves, stuffing them into the crinkled plastic bag. After he finished filling the bag to his liking, he adjusted the bag on his arm and walked placidly out of the isle. I stared at this gentleman with unsophisticated wonderment (for what seemed like an inordinate amount of time) as I watched him bypass the counter and swiftly exit the store. I continued staring at the empty door.

"Did he just walk out of the store." Slowly, coming to I realized that another woman had just witnessed the same event. I stared at her for a bit and then said something, which was most likely dumb along the lines of "Uh, yeah, uh he did." She was a bit more proactive than I was, and hurried off to inform the store personal of the crime.

Why didn't I try to stop him? I could have flung myself in front of the door, shouted or screamed petty theft, tackled or at least tripped him to slow his progress. Instead my Samaritan instincts were succeeded by the rubbernecking kind. Whether or not the store or its personal seemed affected by this $20 deficit, I couldn't tell.

I continued my shopping in somewhat of a hurried daze and when evaluating the pros and cons of adding a new kind of hair product to my list, I decided that the best way to do so was to stick my finger in it. So I did and immeadiately thought - well why did I do that? Now I have to buy it, and at that moment, I more or less felt like everyone in the store had saw me do it. The store even seemed to darken. Needless to say, I went home with the hair product.

I don't necessarily have grand and abstract things to say about theft, crime, or other amoral acts that occur every second of every day. What I was most struck by was the fluidity of the act, the lack of alarm and suspicion, and the casual shrug that it took to wash it from one's memory.