The longer I’m around, the more I find that I’m a marketer’s challenge. A lawyer’s nightmare. A politician’s headache. And believe me, I know. Because it’s my job to market things. Once upon a time, I was on a jury for almost seven months. And yes, I’ve even worked for politicians. Honestly. And I’m telling you now, I’d hate my type if I were the type.
Because I’m impossible to profile.Well, impossible to accurately profile. Just when you think you’ve got me pegged, I tend to stop, surprise or scare you by accidentally throwing a wrench belief, idea, background or preference. It seems I don’t completely fit into any demographic, geographic or even psychographic pie chart. That’s right. I don’t fit.
Not that I’m a misfit, mind you. Because that’s not quite accurate either. I simply don’t exactly match the segmentations of any particular assumption. Or label.
Now here comes the part where I say I don’t like labels. Which, of course, is like saying, “I’m very pro good health.” Because, honestly. Who does? Like labels. And yet, obviously and oddly, we do seem to spend a lot of time assigning them. To others. To ourselves. To friends, relatives, countrymen. Customers. Groups. Races, cultures, ideas. To states. To beliefs. To values. To most. Including and excluding all.
Or maybe it’s just me.
Ah yes, because you’re a, then you’re obviously b, c, d, e, and f.
And if you’re doing a, then you’re always e, i, o, u and sometimes y.
And you, since you’re wearing j, driving r, and doing q, then you’re obviously g, s, p, l and x. Definitely x.
But here’s what happens with this. Quite often, if you don’t fit into a particular shape, then you’re labeled undecided. Which I find to be quite inaccurate, because I’m very extremely decided about most everything. (Just ask the HcQ.) However, I’ve also found that my decisions don’t fall into the pattern that you might expect or appreciate. And eventually, they’ll fall into a seemingly random yet quite contemplated pattern with which you completely won’t understand or agree. At all.
And that’s all I’ll say about that.
But I will say that today I was asked to join a certain group. A reconciliation group of sorts. And I agree with the premise and concept almost wholeheartedly…Bring a bunch of different profiles together for connection, discussion, friendship, understanding. (And no, it’s not The Real World.) So that we will all learn that you and me are free to be you and me. And love will abound. (And no, not that kind of love. I already said it’s not The Real World.) In order to create change. Or at least to expand some horizons, including our own.
However, as much as I respect this theory…the practice of bringing types together, as if you were directing a diversity brochure photo shoot, just seems a little, I don’t know, practiced. Contrived. Affected. Artificial. Schmaltzy.
Am I completely jaded? Probably. Skeptical. I know. Terrible. Maybe. After all, how can I find fault in this idea and cause? And how can I not want to be a part of something that is designed to create so much good?
Well, for starters, because I want it to work.
And I can tell you right now, I don’t completely represent the thoughts, the words, or the deeds of the type I’m assigned to represent. And I’m really not even sure what type that is. I have my guesses though. And I can tell you now, I will not represent nor will I keep it real.
On another note, I’m also guessing, I’m not selected to represent the over age 65 group. However, you wouldn’t know that if you read the direct mail I received today. An AARP specialty item catalog. Addressed specifically to me. What the heck did I purchase or sign up for to make some marketing company think I fell into that category?
Like I said, marketer’s challenge. Even my TiVo can’t figure me out. Yesterday, it recorded Doodlebops, The Pimp Chronicles, Inside the NFL (in Spanish) and yes, The Real World.
And if TiVo doesn’t get me, who will?