| Thanks for the Postage |
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Earlier this week I had the pleasure of receiving a grateful telephone call from a lady who expressed gratitude for the many years of invitations she had received. She knew that one day she would buy something, it was just that she didn't know exactly when. She was happy that instead of trying to pressurise her, I had simply kept on sending her invitations. She thought this was so wonderful that she simply had to let me know, which made me feel wonderful, too. This sparked a belated bout of instant pleasure in my mail shot misery. For dozens of years and with the sort of persistence that is rarely witnessed in my particular line of business, I have been sending out invitations all over the world, to people who at one time or another have registered. I don't delete their names after one year or even five years, in fact I'll keep on sending them invitations for ever unless their envelopes are returned undeliverable or the addressee communicates that he or she is no longer interested. You will now probably be wondering (as will the rest of the world in my experience) why I am doing this. First, because it is my duty to ensure that my artists become famous. Second, because it usually takes much longer than a year for a candidate buyer to take the plunge. Third, because enthusiastic non-buyers are also crucial in building reputations. And fourth, because premature interruption on my part would infringe upon the recipient's freedom to act, as it would suggest that it's up to me to decide what the he or she will and will not do or imply that there is a reason to assume that he or she has stopped forming part of the target group or doesn't have the necessary resources to put their money where their mouth is. As this is very private information, I shouldn't have it at my disposal, and I'll certainly never pretend that I do. Unfortunately there is a down-side to all of this. I can't help feeling offended whenever one of the many envelopes that are returned undeliverable - and this happens to at least 100 in every 15,000 making up the average mail shot - is embellished with a tart comment along the lines of "Left eight years ago!". It's the exclamation mark in particular that hurts. But it's facts you're after, so here we go. There are three parties: the occupant who has moved away, the new occupant and the source of the item of mail. The first and second parties are privy to information which under normal circumstances should not be disclosed to the third party, and even if this were different, I'd be very happy to be spared a daily report of what the whole nation is up to. Of course I'm aware that the new occupant has no wish to snoop around in his predecessor's private life, but if I may be so bold as to combine all of the above into a terse résumé, I'd like to stipulate that it takes years and years for some formerly new occupants to reprimand me for my lack of awareness. And although I usually pretend not to care, I still let it get to me. And that's why that one phone call meant the world to me. |