Canby Herald Online

What will show up next?

You never know what the mail will bring

• By: John Baker  
• Published: 9/2/2009 10:36:34 AM

The things that come across my desk.

Honestly, it’s a wonder I have time to do my regular job at all.

As I write this column, I’m wearing a rubber red nose sent to me by Ringling Bros. and Barnum and Bailey Circus, touting a forthcoming performance in Portland. I’m not alone, either, as Sports Editor Alex Tam sports a Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer look of his own. You see, I got two of these little gems and sharing the joy is part of the fun.

But a pair of rubber noses (with breathing holes, mind you) are just the tip of the “let me ply you with goodies” road we in the newspaper world get to traverse.

I’m fortunate because I continue to get things in the name of previous editors as well, leaving me with a wealth of Oregon Department of Transportation CDs, color photos of new cars, computer program test discs and an assortment of pens, clips and the occasional poster.

No, it’s not Captain Jack Sparrow’s best booty, but it’s an interesting assortment of knick-knacks that keep you guessing while trying to ferret out the true meaning of “he was loved by everyone” in yet another obituary.

Still, in the pantheon of freebies that come across the editor’s desk, there are a few that stand out above the rest. The precious few that made you think that this job, with its ranting parents, reactionaries and assorted complainers, might just be worth keeping for one more day.

Let me take you through the labyrinth of promotional items that tend to warm the recesses of my heart and soul.

The Pens: Give them to me often and in great quantities, but don’t give me just any type. I need a smooth flowing fine tip that allows the putrid scrawl of my handwriting to sing like a nightingale in the branches of a budding tree.
Okay, too mushy for you? Fine, I lump the pen goodies into one bag because this is, by far, the largest contingent of promotional materials I receive. While some work and some don’t, I got one two years ago from a law office in Portland that was, to this day, the single greatest writing instrument I ever held in my stubby fingers. It was a hand-crafted piece of writing utensil that, when it went dry, left me empty and void inside. I have yet to find its match.

Chocolates: I’m not sure if it is common knowledge, but the surest way to get the interest of a haggard newspaperman is to ply him with chocolates. Sometime around the holiday season about four years ago, a fledgling chocolatier out of Washington offered to send me some product for potential review. Now, the odds of me reviewing something not in the immediate coverage area are remote at best, but sensing a golden moment, I acquiesced to his request and waited anxiously.

The company, which I learned went out of business about six months later, is sorely missed by this reporter as the chocolate sampler he sent me was simply fantastic — and there was so much of it. Personally, I like a marketing plan that emphasizes going way overboard on the goodies in an attempt to buy my newspaper affections.

This guy unloaded on me and, to this day, there lingers a painful longing to let some of that chocolate melt in my mouth. Good? Nyet! It was as good a chocolate as I’ve ever put in my large mouth.

Bigfoot Central, check it out: This wasn’t a thing as much as an opportunity to investigate a Web site that was dedicated to all things Bigfoot — or at least Bigfoot tracking and sightings. Now, believe it or not, your erstwhile narrator happens to love stuff like the Loch Ness Monster, abominable snowman, chupacabra, giant octopus and, of course, the Northwest’s own Bigfoot.

We’re talking about a decade ago that a nice little note card came across my desk inviting me to check out this Web site and wondering if I was interested in more information (re: doing a story). Yes, I was interested. No, I wouldn’t be doing a story — though as it turns out I’m talking about it right now. So patience is a virtue.

The reason I remember this one is that I saved the card and stowed it in my newspaper “valuables” box and recently found it.

I thought it was cool then and I still do — so I just checked out the site http://www.angelfire.com/biz/bigfootcentral/.
Know what? It’s still cool.

The three-sided ruler: A construction company here in the valley thought it would be cool to send a small, but heavy tube, to me to draw attention to a new type of building system.
Mesmerized by the weight of a tube about 12 inches in length, I imagined all sorts of possibilities — but not a three-sided ruler. The pyramid shaped instrument was not only cool looking, it weighed a ton.

Instantly, I realized I could cold-cock a would-be assailant or someone whining about me screwing up their bake sale announcement with a swift swing of this gold-plated beauty.
In fact, I still have it. I used it in the office for years, my kids took it to school and I dropped it on my toe a couple of painful times. In the end, the thing still sits atop my desk as one of my greatest promotional trophies.

The whoopee cushion: Got this from a paint store to celebrate their 10th anniversary. The reason I remember it is because it had a helpful note printed on it: “Your butt goes here.”
I find helpful hints like that to enhance the freebie experience.

Elk musk: An outfitting service sent this aroma to me a couple years ago and, as you might imagine, it’s left an impression on me. Why? Because it stunk. No, stunk isn’t the right word. Let’s try vomit-inducing stench.

It came in a little metallic tin that, once opened, made me realize that nature isn’t as alluring to me as I’d thought. My nostril hairs have since grown back, thank you.
No wonder elk are so hard to find … they know they stink.

It’s a good lesson that the package that gets plopped down in front of you from an agency or business that’s dying to bribe you into doing a story that you’d never do in a million years, isn’t always greener than the package or box another agency sent you to buy your coverage.

But those boxes, packages and parcels must be opened by the newspaperman. They must be opened and reveled in. You never know when a red rubber nose will show up and make your day. It’s not a smooth-writing pen, but Alex and I are still wearing them.
Can’t wait to see what’s next!

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