Easily Among the Top Ten Greatest Marketing Failures in American History

Your Aunt Slugger doesn't check her mail much. I'd like to say that this is because I have moved to paperless billing and am thereby reducing wasteful mailings, but this is definitely not true. No, your Aunt Slugger does not check her mail much because the mailbox is in a centrally located building in her apartment complex, and it is out of her way. And by "out of her way," your Aunt Slugger means, "not right next to her door."

Your Aunt Slugger also receives a great deal of junk mail. Almost an unprecedented amount of junk mail. I trace this back to an ill-advised purchase I made from a coin dealer. Your Aunt Slugger does not collect coins, nor does she have strong feelings about coins one way or the other. But I saw this article about a glow-in-the-dark Canadian quarter and figured this coin would make a nice, if not sophisticated, addition to my curio cabinet full of Muppets glasses. I paid $35 for this coin, waited six months to get it, and then also received a commemorative Elvis coin for my patience. I have subsequently received a number of phone calls from this coin dealer, including one where I was sucked into the conversation with tales of a special panda coin.

"Well that sounds interesting," I said. "How much does that cost?"

"Two thousand dollars."

So my coin collection still only consists of the dinosaur coin, the commemorative Elvis coin, and a gold coin that I found on the ground and initially thought was a unique foreign coin until I realized it was a Chuck E. Cheese token.

Anyway, back to my original point: I am fairly certain I receive a lot of junk mail because the coin people sold my name and information to anyone out there who has a product to sell. All of this junk mail goes in the recycling bin, but I do have to sift through it for real mail, like letters from my grandmother and pamphlets advertising pizza deals.

So yesterday I finally dug into my pile of junk mail, and in this pile was what may be the single weirdest item I have ever received in the mail: an offer to subscribe to a magazine entitled "Angels on Earth." I decided to open this piece of mail. Below is the text of the letter, altered only slightly to use my legal name, Aunt Slugger.

I received an offer of three free gifts if I take them up on their offer of a free issue: A 2014 angel wall calendar, an angel afghan, and a mystery gift. I also received two FREE personalized bookmarks and a tear-out blessing card, presumably so I can give it to the Israelites and save their souls.

Your Aunt Slugger is not disparaging the people who subscribe to this magazine. People are allowed to believe in angels and read about them. But your Aunt Slugger is DEFINITELY disparaging the FUCKING IDIOT who thought your Aunt Slugger was in this magazine's target market. Yes, I realize that these marketing folks cast a wide net to try to reel in a few fish. But this...this net was too big. A glow-in-the-dark dinosaur coin DOES NOT an angel enthusiast make.

I also find it hard to believe that angels support mass mailings, or that they would charge me $14.95 for a bi-monthly magazine about them, but then again, I am no expert. I took a few Renaissance art history classes in college, and the only thing angels seemed to do in the sixteenth century was hand out white lilies to the Virgin Mary over and over and over and over again. So really, what do I know.

If anyone needs two free bookmarks or a blessing card to convert the heathens, you know how to reach me.