My friend Mike (a dreaded New Yorker) is addicted to infomercials. Not only does he sit on the couch watching them for hours on end, he actually buys stuff too. Lots of stuff. He showed me a closet one time that was filled to the ceiling with an assortment of ab-machines and various other exercise machines. There was a wide range of video workouts, many of which still had the cellophane packaging around them. I suppose they hold their resale value better that way.
“Do any of these things actually work?” I inquired still in shock at what I was witnessing.
“Not really, at least not the majority. Some of them haven’t been opened so I can’t be sure.”
“Right,” I said. “Then why would you spend money on this stuff Mike? This is not like you.”
“I can’t tell you,” he said. “Logically, I know better than to buy this crap. But the second a new ab-machine shows up on television my brain goes haywire. Next thing you know I’m having another garage sale. I’ve accumulated so much that I even bought one of those As Seen on TV signs for the next one. Walmart has them in Spanish too.”
“Isn’t there some sort of support group for this? Like AA or something?”
“Not that I can find. I’m afraid it may be hopeless,” he told me defeated.
What’s strange about this is that Mike is normally very sane. He is bright, rational, and really quite frugal with his money. Except, apparently, when it comes to those amazingly effective devices only available for a limited time. Personally, I think it was the price slashing and the free bonus at the end that got him.
I will admit to having been caught in the web of these marketing masterpieces myself on occasion. I have watched in awe as these masters of marketing set the hood of a car on fire without damage. There is also the one where they dump everything you can imagine on brand new carpet. Ink stains, pig blood, and even a drunk man’s vomit (they had a hard time getting him to leave) were no match for the super-duper stain remover. So yes, I have seen my share. These shows were often the best thing on at three in the morning. And to tell you the truth, I came dangerously close to buying something one time back in college.
My roommate Chris and I had seen the same video demonstration for the Qwik-Cook Grill a few times now and were extremely fascinated. This thing was awesome. And they couldn’t have hit their target market any better. It was small and extremely portable making it the perfect companion for both tailgating and last minute keg parties. Beer and BBQ are, for the southern man, a right of passage. And this little number was perfect. It also had been designed with 72 computer-generated holes (a major scientific breakthrough) to allow for its unique cooking process. That’s where it really got us. Forget about needing charcoal or having to start a bonfire to get the party started. This baby functions on only ten sheets of newspaper. That’s all it took to create a blazing inferno and cook burgers for all your friends.
This was just too much. After all, who doesn’t have ten sheets of spare newspaper lying around? Well actually, we didn’t. We hardly kept up with the stuff inside our textbooks back then, never mind staying abreast of the contents inside a newspaper. If it wasn’t being shown on SportsCenter it wasn’t newsworthy as far as we were concerned. But we dismissed this as a small obstacle, thinking surely somebody we knew would have access to this newfangled form of firewood. Also, the commercial centered on famous ex Chicago Bears linebacker Dick Butkus. He went to various locales demonstrating the effectiveness of this modern scientific marvel to anyone he could find. If Dick Butkus was promoting the thing it must be good. He wouldn’t lie to us would he? At this point the hook was pretty well set in my mouth and Chris, on the edge of his seat, seemed to be on the verge too.
“Dude, this thing is totally freaking awesome (that’s how we talked back then),” he said never breaking his eyes away from the screen.
“I know man, it’s exactly what we need for our beach trip this weekend,” I replied.
“That’s it,” Chris exclaimed, “I’m ordering it.”
He reached for the phone and then realized something. Guys like us were not actually the perfect market. Close. The problem with a couple beer drinking, cookout loving college kids buying the most perfect invention they’d ever seen was a small matter of funding. It seemed that three easy payments of only $9.95 was not so easy for us. It cut into our beer money. And we couldn’t have that. Choosing between eating and drinking was a no-brainer. Crisis averted.
That was the only real scare I ever truly had. Oh, I still watch them on occasion. And it’s not as though a few of them aren’t offering solid products. The great George Foreman peddled his wares through this vehicle. And who can forget Chuck Norris and Christie Brinkley teaming up to bring us the most complete home gym ever offered? This one really does work. I tried Mike’s after ripping the packaging off. Both of these products can still be bought to this day. But most of it is junk. Fly-by-night companies looking to make a quick buck preying on those without the will to fight. The only safe way to separate the good from the bad is to wait patiently. If it’s still around in a couple years you can feel relatively safe in your purchase.
But for some of us, patience is not our strong suit. Mike, who is a telecom guy by trade, has taken drastic measures. With his incredible expertise he has set his phone to call me whenever he tries to buy from an infomercial. Then it is my job to talk him down, which I do gladly. Now if only I could get my hands on that dang grill.
