For my own coffee break I stroll down to the lake. I don't walk this way much during the winter. Too cold. But today, finally, the sun's out. I look at the frozen ripples. Rough going for anyone wanting to skate across. No one does though. It's an empty sea of stillness.
The bus is crowded on the ride home. It always is in the early evening. People come to campus at various hours, but they all want to leave now. Who can blame them.
I sit behind a young man (young, by my estimation: a student type) and I notice that he is reading a long, handwritten letter. Who these days writes letters? By hand?
Just a quick glance tells me that it is indeed a letter. A love note. No, more of a note pleading for love written by a person in love.
He seems unmoved, though who can tell. I imagine her to be wanting so much to jolt him into whatever it is that she finds lacking. And I wonder if anyone has ever written a letter that had an impact, that shook someone into love, that cajoled and ultimately convinced another person to continue. Or return. Or respond in kind.
He stuffs it in his pack and gets off.
Meanwhile the old man next to me starts grunting. Or singing. Of sorts. I know now why this one seat next to him was still empty when I got on.
I don’t mind riding the bus. It’s good for me, it's good for my budget, the environment. But today, I miss having a car. A Smart car maybe, with comfy seats, streaks of sun poking through a sunroof, and without the disquieting presence of fellow travelers whose burdens and issues I cannot correct, repair or even make just a touch lighter.
You ask: "...I wonder if anyone has ever written a letter that had an impact, that shook someone into love..."
ReplyDeleteWell, in a way I spent much of my advertising career doing that very thing.
Here is an example of a "note pleading for love" that worked. As you can tell from my occasional comments on your blog, I am not a writer. I was trained as a visual artist. So this 30-second TV spot has no spoken words. It begins as a man and a woman drive up to a traffic light, each in a matching VW Passat. They exchange flirtatious glances, seemingly encouraged by the music on the soundtrack -- a tango titled "Palomita Blanca." The first punchline comes. A toy octopus hits the man, interrupting his amorous reverie. The camera cuts to the back seat of the car, where a little boy is seated. The man drives away with a sheepish expression. The woman is seen smiling as she drives away. Then the second punchline arrives. The camera cuts to show that she, too, has a child in her car. This commercial is a simple, stylish, human love letter to the viewer, pleading with them to fall in love with a car. I wish I could find a better copy of the commercial online, but this will have to do:
http://tinyurl.com/ycp8577
The intent of the TV spot was very simple: to get the viewer to make an emotional connection with the aura of the VW Passat. We knew once that connection was made the car would sell itself. The charming little tale of flirtation worked. VW Passat sales went up by 60 per cent. All because of our love letter which aired a total of five weeks spread over four months in early 1999. Advertising for Apple computers, iPods, etc, has been doing the same thing for years.
Dande:
ReplyDeleteI wonder if there is a difference in igniting an emotional connection (to feel warm and fuzzy at the sight of a Passat -- and I do, just by reading your description!) and prodding someone to a next level of emotional entaglement. Because truly, can you ever prod a reluctant person to fall in love, when every indication is that your object of affection has, instead, fallen quite to the other side?
Pleading letters seem so desparate and it seems that love stays clear of desparate people.
"And I wonder if anyone has ever written a letter that had an impact, that shook someone into love..."
ReplyDeleteDoes email count?