he solstice is upon the earth.
From Seattle to Portland, Maine, clothes are falling
by the wayside. Droves of office workers spend lunch breaks basking on concrete steps absorbing precious warm rays like desert lizards. On one day, as yet to be determined, summer in the northern hemisphere will begin when, almost as if they received an invisible memo from mother nature, women across the country all choose to wear skirts. Soon car floor mats will fill with sand as weekend trips to the beach become the norm. The cities will swelter and residents will hide indoors, chilled by personal refrigeration devices. With summer comes a wealth of promotional opportunities. The beaches will soon be flooded by hats and beach blankets, sunglasses and sandals, all vying for precious marketing real estate on packed dunes. It’s time to start planning for summer promotions now or distributors will end up like the legions of Americans who swore they would get in shape by summer only to start a week before Memorial Day. It’s time to flatten the promotional belly and get in selling shape.
Consider the following scenario:
On a sunny Sunday, two thirty-something couples jump into a car and drive for the nearest coast. The sun is bright, and the driver puts on her wrap-around sun glasses to keep her eyes from fatiguing. The drive is not long. They arrive and exit the car, putting up a sun visor on the window to
keep the car cool until they return. The large orange logo practically glows under the hot afternoon sun.
On the beach, they spread towels to claim a piece of sand for lounging. The terry-cloth logo brightly promotes a certain carbonated beverage. The driver’s boyfriend is reminded of his thirst. He unzips an insulated beverage container, a gift he received at his company’s softball game, and takes out a soda.