It’s painfully clear the already lengthy list of things I don’t understand is growing at an exponential rate.
Advertising, it seems, is the latest subject about which I have been grievously misinformed.
I always thought the job of marketers was convincing consumers to buy whatever they were selling by making their products appear intriguing, indispensable, and irresistible, or at the very least one of those three things. But some persistent appeals that arrive in my mailbox each month reveal that my long-held perception of what it is these skilled professionals actually do has been way off base.
Twelve times a year I get a statement from a large corporation whose primary product is cable television. It arrives near the end of the third week of every month, reminding me to send them what I consider an exorbitant fee for the privilege of continuing to use the Internet in the comfort of my home. I pay these charges promptly, but only because the particular service they provide is one which parents of three school-aged children would be unwise to go without.
But wait. Every month that very same conglomerate sends another letter less than a week after their bill arrives, generously offering me the opportunity to upgrade my Internet service to something extra-fast AND pick up several additional premium TV channels in the bargain. I can get all this, their enclosure promises, for a monthly sum only slightly more than twice what I pay now. I don’t recall ever having showed any overt love for the cable company, but it’s clear something has made them awfully fond of me.
To be fair, there’s no reason anyone in the company’s marketing department would be able to divine from my monthly statement that I choose not to own a television. Maybe the folks at Time Warner are sincerely trying to improve my quality of life. But a TV-less person needs premium cable channels like an antelope needs a microwave. That’s why I haven’t responded to any of their persistent offers.
You would think after eight or nine unanswered letters they’d just cut their losses and save some postage. Back when I was trying to romance someone it didn’t take a restraining order for me to figure out when I wasn’t wanted: two unreturned phone calls or one unanswered letter was generally more than enough for me to get the message. But apparently Time Warner Cable doesn’t give up quite as easily as I used to.
Included in last month’s plea was a list of all 515 available TWC cable channels, but as tempting as it might be to have access to all 15 shopping networks, 26 movie channels, and 46 sports options in their electronic stable, I am not the least bit interested in paying for that privilege. I was fascinated, however, to learn of the existence of “The Liquidation Network,” “The Pentagon Channel,” and “Manhandle on Demand.” That last one, by the way, is listed as an “adult” channel, which has me wondering what exactly Time Warner’s definition of an “adult” is.
Another large media company seems smitten with me as well. But sadly for DIRECTV, they too are likely to have their sweet love remain unrequited.
Trying to sell satellite TV service to the resident of a TV-free home is tough. But even more illogical: DIRECTV’s “special offer,” which promises that for a mere $50 per month for the next two years, not only will they give me the best service in the universe, but they’ll throw in a $200 Visa Reward card.
So if I agree to pay $1,200 for two years worth of a service I don’t want or need, in return I’ll get $200 to spend on a variety of other products I don’t want or need? Hmmmm. In retrospect, maybe not responding directly to their entreaties was a mistake, since DIRECTV continues to contact me without fail every month. Perhaps in the long run it would be kinder for me to send them a DIRECTNO.
Maybe the offers described above are actually brilliant marketing ploys, and the only reason they fail to resonate with me is they’re not directly aimed at my particular demographic. But that can’t be.
After all, marketers are constantly pursuing groups of people with access to significant discretionary income. So what sensible business owner wouldn’t dedicate a major portion of his or her advertising budget to targeting the lucrative over-55 male single parent/public schoolteacher demographic?
— When Andy Young isn’t teaching English and literacy at a local high school he spends his time reading, biking, and not watching TV.
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