But you still need to activate your account.
Sign in or Subscribe to view this content.
The form letter from the circulation department of a popular news magazine arrived in the mail about a week after I had renewed my long-standing subscription for another year. It was an acknowledgement of my renewal, but, in keeping with a growing trend in such transactions, Circulation Guy simply couldn’t leave it at that. He had appreciated receiving my $42 and the fact that I had saved his company time and the expense of printing and mailing a renewal notice, the man informed me. And, because I am such a considerate human being, did his outfit ever have a swell deal for me. It was the least he could do in appreciation, my newest best friend assured me.
“You saved us time and money. Now let us do the same for you. Take advantage of this offer to save time and money on your end. Extend your subscription now for an additional year at the guaranteed lowest available price. At $19.97 for 54 weekly issues, you’re saving 91 percent off the cover price. Lock in this amazing deal by returning the form above in the enclosed prepaid envelope…”
Thanks, but no thanks, I said to no one in particular. I chucked the amazing deal and its prepaid envelope into my amazing trash, expecting that within a month I will get another final chance to lock in the same spectacular one-time-only offer. This will likely come with a dire warning that my subscription “is due to run out soon,” the magazine’s definition of “soon” being 11 months from now.
This business of striking while the iron is hot, of hitting up a guy for a second check before the ink is dry on the first one, was perfected long ago by the countless charities that continually seek to separate us from our life savings, the charities possibly having stolen a page from the playbook of those perpetual fund-raisers of the nation’s public broadcasting system.
Respond to a solicitation letter with a handsome donation, and whether the charity is widely known as worthy of support or widely rumored to be just two steps ahead of a federal indictment for consumer fraud, chances are you may soon receive a combination acknowledgment/dun letter much like the one I got from my magazine people. Minus the opportunity to lock in an amazing deal on 54-issue subscription.
The gist of the letter’s opening paragraph will be heartfelt thanks for your generous donation to the cause, and for being a great humanitarian in the continuing crusade to wipe out (insert name of disease here) within your lifetime.
The essence of the second paragraph will be that the need for money is just as great as it was before your contribution. Maybe greater. If you might consider making an additional contribution at this time, feel free to use the enclosed envelope…
That the average Joe might not consider anything of the kind, even in his wildest fit of guilt-driven giving, does not cross the minds of aggressive solicitors who have no qualms about shaking down the clientele early and often. Fund-raising is not a job for wusses.
Whether or not a person who has been solicited makes a donation, the dun letters will continue to arrive in his mail with such regularity that it is not difficult to imagine that the main beneficiary of the charity may well be the United States Postal Service.
Still, if you put a gun to my head I’d be forced to admit that I’d much prefer to receive a rambunctious charity’s repetitive solicitation letter than its cyberspace cousin, the incomprehensible gobbledegook that spews from the Internet daily and winds up polluting my e-mail.
“Dear Sir/Madam,” one such recurring sales pitch begins, which is the first clue that this is going to turn out to be a beaut. “Your case has been contemplated to the compulsory boards, and upon precise forethought, we are able to submit to you the next opportunity…”
The cobbled together jumble of words sounds vaguely like the assembly directions that came with the Chinese-made weed whacker I received as a Christmas gift last year. Nor do things get clarified much with what follows: “Based upon precise forethought you meet the requirements to acquire a substantial profit on your initial property investment…”
The message seems long on precise forethought, but short on substance. “Press ‘go here’ to settle this state of the arrangement,” I am advised. Alternatively, “should you prefer not to enjoy participation of this holiday opportunity you can go ‘here.”‘
One more dissatisfied client telling me where I can go. Upon precise forethought, my day is complete.
NEWS columnist Kent Ward lives in Winterport. His e-mail address is olddawg@bangordailynews.net.
Comments
comments for this post are closed