Author: Mark Myers

I am a husband of one, father of four daughters, a dreamer, a builder, a believer, and most enjoyably a writer. In 2015, I became a reluctant Childhood Cancer Advocate as we lost our youngest daughter Kylie to the disease. Kylie taught me to steal joy from even the worst of circumstances and I will always be on the lookout for happiness among the thorns of life. Join me for a generous helping of laughter and tears.

What “New & Improved” Really Means

.Reading time 4 minutes.

Why must everything change? I understand that most things have room for improvement, but why do manufacturers and marketers decide they have to continually tinker under the hood of every product? Some things are true… and good… and right just as they are.

We all have favorite consumables: cookies, candles, or soap. It feels like every time you land on that perfect product – the one that fits your tastes exactly, they decide to repackage, update, or rebrand and it isn’t the same! For the love of all that is holy, sometimes, the same is good enough.

We consumers see through marketing tactics. The stores aren’t full of ignorant mice following certain patterns through the maze just to ring a bell so that cheese rains down from the sky. Or are they? After all, when I gave my daughters driving lessons, I taught that the first rule is that “every other driver is a moron until proven otherwise.” Perhaps the same holds true for shoppers.

This angst ignited when I picked up soap at the store. My favorite soap… it was my favorite: Lever 2000 – For all your 2000 body parts. First I noticed the packaging was different. The bars were no longer in eight little boxes joined together by a layer of cellophane. Nope, the cardboard was gone and each bar was individually wrapped. The package said, New Look. Okay, so packaging changed; I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is that the soap is different. There is no lather and it no longer glides smoothly across the body. I didn’t become more frictiony all of a sudden. No, the soap changed. It’s totally different – more than packaging. New Look is a lie!

It turns out, New Look means stickier and annoying. Here are other lies we’re told that are meant to entice us to buy. For handy reference, I have also provided their actual meaning.

 

On Sale – We lowered our exorbitant prices to make these reasonable prices seem like incredible bargains.

Limited Time Offer – We’ll keep our prices at these levels as long as you fools keep buying.

Bold New Flavor – We tweaked the formula because we had to cut a penny out of each item to please our VP of Idiocracy.

You’re Worth It – It’s going to break the bank. Keep the packaging so if the product sucks, at least people will know what you paid for it.

Contents May Settle – The box is half-empty but we have a boardroom bet that you won’t notice.

Healthy Portions – We’re going to try to convince you that your hand grew, not that Girl Scout cookies shrunk.

You Never Looked So Good – You’re old, wrinkly, and tired. But hey, it’s worth a try – it might knock a year or two off.

Artistically Inspired – Some earthy, crunchy kid in Colorado who hasn’t bathed in months wears it too.

And my favorite – New and Improved. This can mean any number of things, but I think it is marketing codespeak for smaller, more expensiver, and worser. Think New Coke or Microsoft Zune.

 

All you slick-talking marketing hucksters, please stop treating us like morons. And Lever 2000, please bring back the glide. Until then, I’m prepared to Dial up something new.

A View from the Back

.Reading time 5 minutes.

I’ve always felt like if you are going to do something, you should go all-in. Not only should you commit to the fullest, you should urge others to jump into the pool, too. I never understood people sitting on the sidelines watching others pull the load.

If your kid is playing ball, you should be coaching.

If you believe in the issue, lead the charge.

If you’re a member, actively participate.

Everyone should be all-in. Lead, follow, or get out of the way. Be 100% committed. These have been my mantras and I don’t think they are inherently wrong or bad. What is wrong is the judgment and lack of sympathy for others who aren’t in accord. This epiphany came to me during an innocuous conversation last week.

I was asked to sit on a panel at Emory University to speak to young people who hope to go into medicine. The topic was patient experience – the good, the bad, and the ugly. Having experienced each of those during our cancer treatment, I was able to elucidate all three positions. One of my fellow speakers was a cancer mom I have met digitally, but never in person, although I have interviewed her daughter via FaceTime.

Before the event started, we were in the midst of a good conversation regarding church and faith when she asked where we went to church. A legitimate question… but it has a trick answer. For the first time in our married lives, we don’t have a church home. Right now, church doesn’t feel right. The two congregations that loved us through Kylie’s sickness and death both worship in sanctuaries that contain stages on which she performed numerous times. To sit through a service at either place is to see her singing, acting, and dancing. We tried for a while and never heard a sermon… we just heard her.

We do go to church – sometimes “homechurch”, but frequently a large church where the sermons are deep and thought-provoking. It’s a place where there are plenty of opportunities to serve, but also contains a huge, packed sanctuary where people can sit in the back and get lost in the masses. I explained that we had always been active leaders who taught and served, but right now we need to blend in the back.

“This should be a lesson to us that everyone at church can be at a different place in their life and have different needs,” my new friend wisely said.

I’m a dense sort. I smiled, agreed, and went on until later in the day when I was alone, something started gnawing at me. That epiphany jumped up and bit me.

You see, for all of those years, not only have I been on my church’s front row, I’ve looked down on the people in the back row – the 80% not pulling their weight. Oh, I never confronted anyone, but I certainly considered them inactive leaches while we pious 20% did the heavy lifting. And now, from my new seat, I realize that while I sat in judgment, there are plenty of legitimate life situations that plant people in the back row. I probably looked down on many helpless and hurting people. Rather than condemn them, I should have been more loving and celebrated the fact that they had the strength to make it through the door.

And this doesn’t just pertain to church. Maybe a bunch of those dads who wouldn’t coach soccer with me or build theater sets felt lost, inadequate, or had issues I couldn’t have dreamed of.

 Wow! This self-discovery stuff is great until you discover you are the one with the problem.

 

back-pew

 

A Pharisee, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Matthew 22: 35-40 (NIV)