Making Lemonade
Even though my kids are older and I haven’t been traveling during the current spring break season, I found myself mesmerized and appalled by news of the chaos that erupted at airports around the country as thousands of travelers descended in the midst of a partial government shutdown. Social media was overrun with posts about epic lines, hours-long wait times, and missed flights as beleaguered TSA agents, who haven’t received a paycheck in weeks, stopped reporting for work. You couldn’t escape stories of our failing airports and that was even before the tragic accident happened at LaGuardia, Congress repeatedly refused to solve the problem, and ICE got deployed instead. The news, it seemed, kept getting worse and worse.
Which is why I had to chuckle in admiration when, in the midst of all of the bedlam, a post popped up in my Instagram feed from a motel in the Jersey shore town where my family and I vacation: “Why deal with airport lines, delays, and travel stress when your perfect getaway is just a short drive away?”
Why indeed?
“Escape to the Concord Suites in Avalon, New Jersey—where the beach is peaceful, the air is fresh, and relaxation comes easy.”
Sure, it might be March—in NEW JERSEY, not your usual spring break destination—but as the post notes, there’s “[n]o TSA, no crowded terminals. . .just sun, sand, and the comfort of your home away from home.”
Having stayed at the Concord Suites a number of times when our boys were little, I can attest that relaxation comes easy there, in July and August anyway. Presumably, the owners of the motel/social media managers are playing a long game and hoping readers will remember the mess of their spring trip and decide to stay local when it comes time to plan their summer vacation. After all, you can “[p]ack the car, skip the chaos, and be [there] in no time.”
One of the few things I enjoy on social media is when companies find clever ways like this to reference current events as a way to connect with potential customers. Of course, social media is only the latest tool for what is a very old marketing technique. The Concord’s post reminded me of a story I discovered while researching my historical fiction novel, which is set in early 20th century Newark. During the summer of 1916, a significant polio outbreak hit the city. To stop the virus from spreading amongst the children it predominantly affected, officials closed both the playgrounds and the schools, which ran sessions during the summer. Having recently lived through a virus-related lockdown ourselves, it doesn’t require much imagination to picture the stress Newark’s mothers endured during that time or how desperate they must have been to find ways to entertain and distract their hot, bored children.
Enter Louis Bamberger, marketing genius and owner of what was then Newark’s premier department store. In the midst of the public health crisis, Bamberger’s found a way to offer those desperate mothers a potential solution—a Victrola! Under the headline “Amuse the Kiddies at Home,” the store ran an ad acknowledging the situation without ever mentioning the cause: “[a]nxious parents are keeping their children close at home these days.” It then identified the parents’ issue and offered an immediate, commercial solution: “the problem of keeping them contented and happy is a formidable one unless you own a talking machine.” After listing the many different records available for children—including the Mother Goose and Father Goose groups, comic recitations, nursery songs and lullabies—the ad described three different levels of Victrolas, with their respective down payments and monthly fees.
You have to admire the hustle. Like the umbrella salesmen who pop up outside New York City subway entrances the second it starts to rain. Or the folks waiting outside concert venues offering the (potentially counterfeit) merch you didn’t have time to buy before the show. Or the store owner at the beginning of the 20th century with a stockpile of expensive record players that kids loved but lots of people couldn’t afford. From one perspective, they might be taking advantage of someone’s negative situation. An umbrella mistakenly left behind. Heavy traffic on the way to the arena. A deadly epidemic trapping mothers at home with antsy children. But one person’s loss is another’s gain, as they say. And in the best case scenarios, the solution is a win-win for everyone. The entrepreneurs not only make the money they need to survive, the umbrella keeps you dry on your walk to work, you add a T-shirt to your collection of concert memorabilia, and the children remain safe and healthy at home. Or in this instance, you have a relaxing vacation at the Jersey shore this summer. As the Concord reminded us, it’s “closer than you think.”