An Offer You Can't Refuse
Ellie received an odd letter the other day. This is a common occurrence; as a doctor, she constantly receives odd letters from companies trying to sell her bizarre magazines with names like “Fatal Infectious Diseases Review,” “Hand, Esophagus, and Spleen Quarterly,” and “Ye Olde Newe Englande Journale of Medicine.” Sometimes they come from drug companies promising benefits with words like “efficacy” and “placebo,” and showing people smiling because they’re enjoying life so doggone much that I wished I had plantar fasciitis too. Then there’re the invitations to medical conferences in renowned learning areas like Las Vegas and Orlando that, in Ellie’s current state of pregnant and broke, are basically just taunts.
This letter came from ACNielsen. I assumed this was another medically related company, perhaps wanting to keep her informed on the latest advancements in the treatment of hypertension in albino females ages 39-54. Ellie recognized the company immediately as the television rating people.
Intrigued, I tore the envelope open immediately. I considered the awesome power I could wield to determine which shows live (“Over There”) and which ones die (any reality show involving an alleged celebrity). Then I remembered how much television I watch, and I imagined their puzzlement over seeing day after day of no television viewing, not counting the times Abbie plays with the television, turning it on and leaving it on, and decided it wouldn’t be worth our effort to sign up even though it would be fun to fool CNBC into believing their ratings are through the roof in the 2 and under demographic.
The first thing I saw was a small piece of paper that fell out asking us demographic questions. “Are you single, living on your own and 30 years old or younger?” No. “African American? Hispanic?” No, umm, no. “Married, 30 years old or younger?” Yes! “Living in a household with an annual income less than $25,000?” No, but I often feel that way. “If you answered yes to any of the above, we really want to hear what you have to say!” I really want to earn money telling you what I have to say!
As I read the pamphlet that accompanied the letter, I discovered that we were not being recruited for television research, but for consumer market research. Apparently they’re recruiting people to use a scanner they give you to scan everything you buy, and to fill out occasional surveys. The company then takes this information and sells it to other companies so they can learn how to better market their products. Don’t worry, though, “membership” as the pamphlet calls it, or “the privilege of giving my personal shopping information to corporations so they can better coerce me into spending my hard-earned money on their junk” as I call it, is free with nothing to buy, ever!
Somehow I remained unconvinced that this program was right for me. If only there were some sort of gimmicky program where I could win prizes and money attached to this membership. As luck would have it, the next page in the pamphlet has pictures of a woman standing next to the new Crown Vic she won, and another picture showing a couple holding an oversized novelty check worth $20,000 that they won through “special sweepstakes.” The page also mentions that I earn “valuable gift points” for “scanning and transmitting,” and that I can “redeem” these “points” for “exciting gifts.” The page does not mention how many items I need to scan to earn anything, nor does it mention what any of these “gifts” actually are. It also fails to mention the odds of winning their sweepstakes, and it doesn’t say if the prize is ever a desirable car.*
Despite all these wonderful benefits, I think I’m going to pass on the program. I have privacy concerns, but more so I have time concerns. Taking the time to scan every item I purchased when arriving home from the grocery store sounds less than desirable; I barely put the ice cream in the freezer before melting now, and that’s just dealing with Abbie. If I had to scan every purchased item before putting it away, deal with Abbie, and keep twin infants entertained, I might as well drop our purchased meat in the parking lot and kick it a few times because that’s the condition it will be in after being left on the counter for so long. In fact, I might be better off kicking it a few times because the impact could kill some of the microorganisms growing on it. So if you meet the above criteria and want to pimp your shopping habits for “exciting gifts” and “prizes,” let me know and I can give you my “control number.” It helps if you also want to drive a Crown Vic.
* If the car they offer is a Crown Vic, no wonder they have trouble finding people under the age of 30 to participate.
This letter came from ACNielsen. I assumed this was another medically related company, perhaps wanting to keep her informed on the latest advancements in the treatment of hypertension in albino females ages 39-54. Ellie recognized the company immediately as the television rating people.
Intrigued, I tore the envelope open immediately. I considered the awesome power I could wield to determine which shows live (“Over There”) and which ones die (any reality show involving an alleged celebrity). Then I remembered how much television I watch, and I imagined their puzzlement over seeing day after day of no television viewing, not counting the times Abbie plays with the television, turning it on and leaving it on, and decided it wouldn’t be worth our effort to sign up even though it would be fun to fool CNBC into believing their ratings are through the roof in the 2 and under demographic.
The first thing I saw was a small piece of paper that fell out asking us demographic questions. “Are you single, living on your own and 30 years old or younger?” No. “African American? Hispanic?” No, umm, no. “Married, 30 years old or younger?” Yes! “Living in a household with an annual income less than $25,000?” No, but I often feel that way. “If you answered yes to any of the above, we really want to hear what you have to say!” I really want to earn money telling you what I have to say!
As I read the pamphlet that accompanied the letter, I discovered that we were not being recruited for television research, but for consumer market research. Apparently they’re recruiting people to use a scanner they give you to scan everything you buy, and to fill out occasional surveys. The company then takes this information and sells it to other companies so they can learn how to better market their products. Don’t worry, though, “membership” as the pamphlet calls it, or “the privilege of giving my personal shopping information to corporations so they can better coerce me into spending my hard-earned money on their junk” as I call it, is free with nothing to buy, ever!
Somehow I remained unconvinced that this program was right for me. If only there were some sort of gimmicky program where I could win prizes and money attached to this membership. As luck would have it, the next page in the pamphlet has pictures of a woman standing next to the new Crown Vic she won, and another picture showing a couple holding an oversized novelty check worth $20,000 that they won through “special sweepstakes.” The page also mentions that I earn “valuable gift points” for “scanning and transmitting,” and that I can “redeem” these “points” for “exciting gifts.” The page does not mention how many items I need to scan to earn anything, nor does it mention what any of these “gifts” actually are. It also fails to mention the odds of winning their sweepstakes, and it doesn’t say if the prize is ever a desirable car.*
Despite all these wonderful benefits, I think I’m going to pass on the program. I have privacy concerns, but more so I have time concerns. Taking the time to scan every item I purchased when arriving home from the grocery store sounds less than desirable; I barely put the ice cream in the freezer before melting now, and that’s just dealing with Abbie. If I had to scan every purchased item before putting it away, deal with Abbie, and keep twin infants entertained, I might as well drop our purchased meat in the parking lot and kick it a few times because that’s the condition it will be in after being left on the counter for so long. In fact, I might be better off kicking it a few times because the impact could kill some of the microorganisms growing on it. So if you meet the above criteria and want to pimp your shopping habits for “exciting gifts” and “prizes,” let me know and I can give you my “control number.” It helps if you also want to drive a Crown Vic.
* If the car they offer is a Crown Vic, no wonder they have trouble finding people under the age of 30 to participate.
posted by Matt at
9:37 PM
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