Yesterday morning the worst thing happened. While I was making breakfast (meaning I was pouring milk over some off-brand Cheerios), I broke my favorite drinking glass. It was a nice, big pint glass with Captain America’s face on it that I certainly loved more than a person should a piece of drinkware. I had stupidly placed it on the edge of my counter, and in my sleepy morning haze, just bumped it right off onto my hardwood floor.
It was one of those totally preventable slow-motion falls, the kind when you’re watching something tip over and all your brain can think is “Awwwww maannnn … ” and do absolutely nothing to prevent the calamity at hand. The glass didn’t shatter or anything, just thunked on the ground and split right up the middle.
I was surprised by how much breaking my favorite glass upset me. For most of my life, I’ve tried to limit how much I care about “possessions,” but despite all my contrarian heel-dragging and misplaced anti-establishmentism, I somehow developed real affection for this glass. It was just so perfect. It had a great weight and thickness, sturdy but not too heavy, and was big enough that I could fit two servings of any drink into it, which I’ve found is the perfect ratio for nearly any thirst-quenching purpose (i.e., I did not have to refill my glass at dinner, it held plenty of water for a session of writing at home, etc.). Plus, it had the most wonderful imprint.
The glass was a promo item from a NYC Comic-Con a few years back, I think for some kind of super-hero voting competition that Marvel was running. The imprint on the glass was a big, smug drawing of Captain America’s face that looked like it had been done by Neal Adams, one of the most iconic comic illustrators ever. Captain America’s headshot was framed by a “Vote for Captain America” text circle, which outside the comic-con contest, gave the glass the perfect touch of silliness and absurdity. The imprint itself was very high-quality, big and bright without a single imperfection.
I guess what I’m getting at here is that the care taken to create that glass was ridiculously evident. It was perfectly constructed and had a flawless and well-selected imprint design. It resonated with its target demographic (me) perfectly, so much so that I actually feel the need to write about it. So my question for everyone reading is this:
What are you doing to your promotional products to make people sincerely care about them? What are you doing to make them missed when they’re gone?
Until next week!
WEEKLY MIKE FACT: I’ve actually never been to a comic book convention. Surprising, I know, but I’m not big on collectables or meeting/getting things signed by creators, truth be told. The glass from this post was a gift from a friend who went to the convention, which is probably another reason I liked it so much.
