THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 4, 1994 TAG: 9412010195
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Coastwise
SOURCE: Ford Reid
LENGTH: Medium: 60 lines
There are something like 5,000 mail order catalogs published in this country. That means that there are seven or eight of them that are not delivered to my house, but I expect to be getting those any day now.
As Christmas approaches, we get about one hundred catalogs a week. Our all time records are 27 in one day's mail and 49 in two days.
Some of those are duplicates, of course. One company's Addressograph machine got stuck and we received five of its catalogs in one day. I told the mailman that he ought to sue for harassment.
With a lot of these catalogs, the companies are not getting their money's worth. I'd guess that at least half of the catalogs that I get go straight from the mail box to the trash can without ever being opened. I can easily separate the wheat from the chaff in the 15 seconds that it takes to walk from the front door to the back.
Some of this stuff is very strange. Thick books of things for dogs, for instance.
I have a dog that I love very much, but discounting food and vets' bills, I probably average spending about 75 cents a year on her. She's had the same collar for ten years and her leash is a piece of discarded anchor rope with a brass snap spliced onto the end.
I suppose there are people who lavish fine gifts on their dogs, but I can't imagine whatever made someone think that I am one of them.
Another group is the food catalogs, hundreds of them, selling everything from fish to figs. I like to eat, but I'd rather buy my plums and chili beans at the grocery store, thank you very much.
Then there are the catalogs that have drawings instead of photographs. Artist's conceptions, you might call them. Most of those also have interesting little stories about each item.
It is hard enough to tell what you are really getting if there is a big, glossy, full color photo. When it is left to the imagination of an artist, whom, I sometimes suspect, might not have even seen the product, you are left without a clue.
The writers of these things are very good, however, and it gets easy to think that with a particular scarf around your neck you could fly a Sopwith Camel, no problem, even though you have trouble backing the family car out of the driveway without getting on the grass.
Just when you think you've seen it all, something new pops up. Not just a new catalog, either, but an entire new category.
A few years ago, we became grandparents, bought a few things and ended up on a special list. Grandparents, you see, are suckers for certain things and the catalog people know that.
We now get dozens of catalogs designed to outfit truly hip 4-year-olds.
I still shop by mail, although I guess it would be more accurate now to say that I shop by telephone. But I'm nostalgic for the days when the arrival of the L.L. Bean catalog was a much anticipated semi-annual event.
Oh, well. It beats being stuck in traffic. by CNB