By Jack Edwards
Guys like fast, exciting things. Astute advertisers, even non-astute advertisers, in fact, even advertisers with IQs just below that of the average tube of toothpaste know this. That is why they like to claim, for example, that their product can rocket from zero to 60 miles per hour in under one-tenth of a second. We love to buy things like this, even if we (those of us not currently in jail) never have the nerve to test whether the claim is true. We just want to brag to our friends about it. We love “high performance” products. We don’t want a car, we want a high performance car. Even if it’s a minivan, dagnabbit, we want a high performance minivan, despite the fact that we know in our hearts that by the time we pull it out of our garage for the first time, its interior will be soaked with grape juice and coated with discarded fruit roll-ups (never mind any bodily fluids). Nevertheless, even guys have their limits, and I hit mine last week like a gnat smacking a windshield.
One of my few peculiarities is that although I do not live in Los Angeles, and I have never lived in Los Angeles, and in a good year I might visit Los Angeles once, I subscribe to Los Angeles Magazine. This allows me to be a “hip” insider when I do venture to the City of Angels. Anyway, this month, I’m sitting in my reading room (with its distinct porcelain décor) flipping through the pages of this month’s edition, when I see an ad depicting an attractive woman sitting in a chair looking extremely relaxed, in fact, almost comatose. Above her picture is the following ad copy (This is an EXACT QUOTE, you know I wouldn’t lie to you. Well, I would, but I’m not lying about this): “Launching [insert company name I don’t want to get sue by], the world’s first performance recliner.” There you have it folks. It’s a Performance Recliner. And, apparently, the World’s First. So get ready for all the copycats to put their recliners on NASA’s launch pad and shoot their recliners off into the ad world.
Where they found the strength not to call it a High Performance Recliner, I’ll never know. But I know this – they thought about it. They sat in their conference room sipping coffee, staring intently at one another, and seriously considered calling it a High Performance Recliner.
Further down in the paragraph, they toss in the word “dynamic,” as if the chair is capable of leaping up and running the 40 yard dash in under 4.5 seconds. Now to be fair, it’s a beautiful chair, and as the woman reclining in it so aptly demonstrates, obviously extremely comfortable.
Unfortunately, the use of the word “performance” sends out a signal. And that signal is: I can’t afford it. Not only can I not afford it, the Los Angeles City Code prohibits me from going within two blocks of the store unaccompanied by a wealthy relative. Short of cashing out my 401K, this performance recliner will never replace my tattered (but extremely loyal) BarcaLounger. All I can do is hope that in next month’s edition of Los Angeles Magazine, some equally savvy manufacturer decides to advertise a performance product that I might be able to afford. I’m thinking something along the lines of “performance gym socks.” Now, I’m not saying I could buy more than one pair of performance gym socks, but at least the next time I visit LA, I could feel like I’m in the “mix” with all the other hip big city shoppers casually displaying the decadent lifestyle to which I have become accustom. At least in regard to my one new pair of socks.