Advertising - The Art of Persuasion

What makes advertising effective? Is it because humans innately want what they don't have? Maybe we don't know what we want until we're shown it. The power of persuasion is an art, and that art has created the world of advertising. We live in it, breathe it, almost without even realizing it these days. But it is effective. Vivid displays coupled with a splash of wit and engaging content can create an ad that moves its audience to jump off the couch and run to the store, credit card in hand. This art has many different sides, twists, and turns, but they all lead the consumer, the market to knowing what they should want and have.

Communication's Conundrums

Communication seems to be everywhere. Unavoidable. Blogs, newspapers, websites, magazines, etc. etc. Every day a barrage of information is being communicated at us, almost against our will. And then there's the people we talk to every day, maybe in little ways, "I'll have grande, non-fat latte," to the friends we text and the family we share the account of our day with. Communication is so convenient now, so why is it sometimes the hardest thing to do? I guess it's not for some people, those who have to say everything they think, especially when it's something they're bothered by. But then there are others who fear confrontation, even when they have a grievance about something or someone. If they're not at fault, why do they procrastinate confronting the problem? I think because they're the kind of people who even if they're upset with the person, they still hate the thought of anyone not liking them. And often hurt feelings are simply a matter of misunderstandings not spoken, not explained. Both parties may be wondering why the other acted or acts the way they do, but because they haven't spoken about their feelings, they assume the other person is indifferent about the situation. It's ironic then that not speaking becomes a form of communication, but a negative one. Because even if nothing was resolved by talking, the problem would be more clearly understood, which could, at some point, have positive effects.

Right-Brained Artful Romantics

The arts -- music, movies, books, writing, dancing, photography -- these are the mediums of life that touch me the most. Some people are fascinated by sports, the competitiveness of it all, others by science and mathmatical equations, politics of one kind or the other. Then there are those people who I'd like to call the "hopeless romantics," those who are touched and endeavor to touch others by their art. These are the ones who maybe find it difficult to say what's in their heart, but find that they can express themselves easier after they analyze their feelings through writing or music or art. They can see themselves best through the characters in a movie or hear their problems in a blues song. I fit into this category, this creative group of 'right-brained' individuals. I often cannot accurately tell someone how or what I feel, but give me a while at the keyboard, and I can describe them in an array of colorful words. I love how you really can 'experience' music because it can take you to another time. Often I can remember the year a certain song came out because of what that song meant to me at that particular time.

When the Next Class Isn't Open And Other Curious Questions

What makes a life interesting? Dictionaries describe the word "interesting" in terms like "holding the attention or curosity of," "absorbing, entertaining." Would my life be categorized as such? If I had to write a biolography years from now, would these be years to skip? Or maybe it's the person, not the life, per say, that should be described as interesting. Wouldn't an "interesting" person always have an interesting life, no matter what happened or didn't happen in their life? As a child, you're always waiting for the next step. When you can go to school, middle school, high school, get your license, graduate. . .and so on and so forth. And these steps have predetermined timetables that push you to move forward, to grow, to mature. But what about after school? By then you're supposed to have trained your self to be motivated, and so you have. Still there are some things that you can't personally change and there's no preset timetable that will automatically move you into Literature II after you've completed, even successfully completed, Lit I. What about those things? What if you just kept repeating Lit I, which you're good at, but kept repeating it simply because the Lit. II class wasn't open yet. Do you take Biology II instead, even if you don't have any interest in Biology II?

Recap--Goodbye Cleveland Part 1

I've been thinking that I should kind of give a recap by reprinting my "goodbye" columns from the American. So here is Part 1 of the end . . .

I’m not really good at good-byes . . . maybe because I don’t deal well with confrontations and saying good-bye is definitely a confrontation, for me, even if leaving on good terms. I’m not really good at handling sad situations in general. I usually try to lighten the mood with a joke or laugh (which has gotten me some strange looks and disapproving scowls at times). For these reasons and because I’m the world’s worst procrastinator, I have neglected to say a proper good-bye to American readers. As Rusty so nicely said in his Standing Tall column, I have relocated to Tulsa and thus am no longer working at the American. Although only having moved a couple months ago, I already miss Cleveland. I miss my friends, family and those who I got to know through working at the newspaper.
I would like to thank all of those who assisted me in my work by letting me barrage them with seemingly endless questions, by repeating what they’d already told me because I can’t write as fast as someone in my profession should be able to write or by explaining to me (sometimes several times) the innerworkings of their project, business or situation. Your patience was greatly appreciated. Thank you for opening your home or business to me as that I could grasp the full scope of your story and share a part of your life with readers.
I especially miss the faculty and administration of Cleveland Schools who allowed me to trample through their buildings and classrooms, snapping photos of unsuspecting teachers and students, keeping homecoming royalty and valedictorians out of class so that I could get ‘just the right poise’ for a special feature. Thank you for letting me live vicariously as a Cleveland student for a few more years after my commencement, attending school ‘fair days,’ special guest speakers, who assumed I was from the Tiger’s Tale, and other school functions and sporting events where I probably blocked the view of several parents taking photos.
And, of course, I want to thank the Cleveland Police and Fire Department and the Sheriff’s Department, as well as all area city and emergency personnel, who not only allowed me to tag along with them as stories unfolded, but saved my life in the car accident that occurred a year ago, Sept. 22.
You may be wondering, why did she leave if she loved her job so much and already misses the town? Well, while recovering from the car accident, I came to appreciate not only the fundamentals of mobility and the ability to dress yourself, but that one day, one minute can change your entire life and leave you with only ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’.
Because I was more or less “down” for months, I felt that I lost an entire year of my life. Friday it will have been a year since my car wreck. Wow, a year . . . at times in the past year, I didn’t think I would be myself again. I thought I was making no progress--that I’d hit a plateau. And at times, it seems like just a bad dream, especially since I still don’t really remember the actual wreck. From the beginning, my surgeon had said it would take a year return to normal life, and he was surprisingly accurate. Of course, physically I’m still not totally normal, but normal and pain have become relative terms.
Also, when you loose practically every freedom you have physically, you tend to go to the extreme if and when you regain it. Now, I’m not saying I’m going to go skydiving . . . I have learned how fragile life can be. But when the option or the freedom is no longer there, you think of all the things you would like to do and wonder if you could still have the chance to do them . . . to take chances in life.
I’d always lived in Cleveland, felt comfortable there, but sometimes comfort doesn’t allow you to truly grow, or you wonder “what if?” Although I do not know where I’ll end up, I knew I would have to get out of my “comfort zone” first and challenge myself for those ‘what ifs’ to happen.
I’d like to relate my latest endeavors and adventures, but I’m afraid Rusty will give me the “you expect me to fit all that copy in here” look, so I’ll try to report back next week . . . stay tuned.

Unspoken

Why is it so hard to say some things? Things that are perfectly normal. Not gross or obscene, just things that get stuck in your throat, trapped there, like you're a kid standing on the edge of a diving board. You know what to do. You know you'll be happier if you do it.

Hello There

Hi. I'm beginning this blog to pick up where I left off in my newspaper column by the same name where I wrote about the ironies of life.