It’s two a.m., maybe closer to two-thirty, maybe past two-thirty, and I’m driving back to my parents’ house in my dad’s new car. What a responsible family guy car, I think whenever I drive it. A four-door sedan, an up-and-coming car maker (this is important), and—he won’t admit it out loud—a stylish exterior. The color is copper. It looks nothing like copper. He got a piece of marketing material from the car company that was personalized with his name. So intrigued by it, by its personalness, he opened it. I love this about my dad. He is so genuinely curious. He has held onto that lovable trait all these years, one of the few.
Anyway, he opened it and inside was all this shoo-shaw marketing garbage with glossy color photos. He pored over it. He read out loud a passage about how Magellan’s discovery of South America (side note, I’m pretty pissed the Wikipedia page for Ferdinand Magellan is not the first result for the Google search “magellan”) was really attributable to the hard work of a Basque captain—Basque things always being a point of interest for my dad, as our family is some ubiquitous percentage Basque at all times—as my mom rolled her eyes. What a success for marketing. (more…)