With apologies to my mailman, I’m doing my part to support the publishing industry. Specifically, the magazine arm of the publishing industry. Which is why, this morning, MailGuy is having to nurse his aching back as he climbs out of bed.
I could say it all started with Oprah, as so much in pop culture does. Her recent show celebrating the 10th anniversary of “O” was attended by a few popular Oprahites (Dr. Phil, Suze Orman…) talking of their contributions to the special 10th issue with articles on ten this-that-and-the-other thing. As there is little I appreciate more than a Cliff notes feature on how to improve any aspect of my life, after an hour with Oprah and Friends, I made a mental note to buy my own copy.
But even before that, after the affable and endearing Anthony won the Marie Claire cover challenge during Season 7 Project Runway, I stalked the magazine racks at CVS until Heidi turned up in the blue dress.
But even before that, when I heard that Jeff Beck was featured alongside Eric Clapon in a cover story on Rolling Stone, I just had to get a copy of my own.
Here’s what happened next, after Jeff Beck and Anthony’s dress and Suze’s sage financial advice, I remembered how much I love magazines. And after taking in the Beck/Clapton feature and every other article and review in the pages of RS, I made the big commitment and signed up for a subscription.
And while I opted to pass on bringing Marie Claire home on a monthly basis (forgive me for saying this, Tim and Heidi and Nina, but I’m just not that much of a fashionista) I also decided to subscribe to a monthly dose of “O”. Only here’s where I got smart, or so I thought.
Rather than take the first postcard offer that fell out from between the pages, I shopped the price of a subscription. And it turns out that Amazon.com had a great offer on “O”. So I signed up. And then it turned out that Amazon.com also had a great offer on a slew of others, so I added one more to my cart, than another.
The mail came yesterday. And tucked in with my electric bill was a stack of magazines that now includes “Travel and Leisure”, “Ladies Home Journal”, “Better Homes and Gardens”, “Redbook”, “Entertainment Weekly”, “Wired” along with the previously sited “O” and the one that started it all “Rolling Stone”.
The publishing industry must love me. I may just be one person, but I’ve got a credit card and a mailbox and I know that when you put them all together that spells one more subscriber. It may not single-handedly be able to help them profit, but I’m doing the best I can… and I encourage you to join me. Magazines are fun, filled with little morsels, tips, stories, and ideas that you can tear out and share. They’re compact enough to toss in a carry-on for a flight, bring along to kill clock in a waiting room and easy to pass on or leave behind to others who may find the content compelling, amusing or informative.
And I know that Amazon loves me, too. Because now, every day or so, I get a fresh, new email chock full of subscription suggestions like more serious fare “Time” and “Newsweek”, timely suggestions like “Field & Stream” (Father’s Day is coming!) and “Dog Fancy” (Take Your Dog to Work Day is Coming!) and, from the that’s-a-magazine? category, issues of “Predator”, “Wakeboarding” and “Birds & Blooms”.
I’d better stop opening those emails from Amazon or I could wind up like one of those episodes of “Hoarders” where I’m discovered buried alive under a mountain of magazines. Plus, I’m not going to have much time for email anymore what with all these articles waiting to be read. In this stack alone, I’ll be learning three ways to tap into my intuition, how to drop ten pounds fast, (which is separate from: baking the best chocolate cake ever), how to tip in Tuscany, why “Karate Kid” is such a hit and how to tell when it’s time to move on.
And when I’m all done with the current issues, maybe I’ll pass them on to my mail man to read while he recovers from a mysterious back injury.
