… an e-mail—from Joe Biden!
Subject line: Dinner
The President and I have a routine — we get lunch together almost every Friday.
But all I get is lunch. You could be one of four supporters to have dinner with him soon.
Donate $5 or more today to have your name automatically thrown in the hat here:
I'm reminded every week that sitting down for a meal with the President of the United States — without TV cameras or a big crowd — is something only a few people will ever get to do.
You're not going to want to miss this chance.
I wish you luck,
Readers, it's not often that I deMurr, but I honestly don't know how to analyze a promotion like this.
I'm a known Obama fan—not long ago I actually had a dream about meeting him (and he was totally awesome!). If I got this from Dick Cheney, I would ridicule it out of hand. But that's partly because Cheney's persona couldn't carry off even the faux humility that's implied here.
I try to imagine such a promotion in a corporate setting. What if the COO sent out a note like this, offering employees a chance for a private audience with the CEO, if only they'll fill out the employee survey? Not cool! And I like it less as a way to make me feel like I'd have to win the lottery in order to shake the hand of my elected representative.
All right, let's look at it through the eyes of a marketer whose simple job is to get money. I've written some cornball marketing letters over the years. "You've stopped subscribing to Speechwriter's Newsletter. That hurts our feelings." That sort of thing. As I've said, I believe that prospects actually appreciate "a hint of the hustle" in their marketing promotions.
So that's not why I'm not why I'm not going to participate in this dinner-with-Obama thing. Frankly, I don't want to share Barack with three other nervous yahoos, all stepping on their tongues and watching how much they drink. I know how Barack and I are: We'll spend the whole time trying to make everyone feel comfortable, and we'll have no meaningful time for one another.
(I'm content to wait until after Obama's second term, when he and I bump into each other at Jackson Park Golf Course back here in Chicago, and play the last nine holes together, talking only about golf and the Hyde Park and Kenwood neighorhoods. I'll call him "Barack," but otherwise make no reference to his presidency, unless he brings it up, perhaps asking me how I think he will be remembered by history. And so on.)
Where was I?