Is That a Book in Your Pocket or Are You Just Glad to See Anything at All?
Trusty Edward Wyatt has another article in the NYT about the publishing buisness. Last time he talked to Jane friedman, CEO of Harper-Collins about branding. This time Wyatt has a story about large format paperbacks for Baby Boomers, tracing their reading from youth On the Road through the glorious Clancy years ( let’s break this down again: how many t-72s in a Soviet armored division? We’re not leaving until the intermodal ramifications emerge). Finally, today’s Boomers have mastered child proof caps, are approaching their golden years and want a book to read. But, criminy, who can read this tiny print?
Cut to scene from Old Guy CSI: “We have it under the microscope, Sir. It appears to be a book.”
Okay, the typical Boomer couple have settled in for the night. Frank doesn’t bowl anymore (lower back pain, low scores), he can’t play golf at night, the Mets are playing the Dodgers on mute, Cynthia is reading Madame Bovary. Frank prowls the house, adjusting his elastic waistband ( yes, Tod Goldberg, it’s Sansabelt. Just you wait, young fellow.) After barking his shin on the damned bookcase, Frank grabs one of his wife’s paperbacks. He’s never heard of JD Robb, but there’s a pink submarine on the cover…Operation Pettycoat?
Frank is unconscious on Page Nine. The Mets score a run in the bottom of the Tenth, but who can read ESPN’s tiny ticker on the bottom of the screen? Cynthia is mildly puzzled that Frank is reading JD Robb, but relieved no popcorn was spilled when the book slipped from Frank’s splayed fingers. “Where’s the submarine?” he asks in a muffled tone. “That’s a cactus,” she says.
They’re both wrong, but who could afford another prescription, the embarassment of an eye exam administered by a junior high school student in a lab coat?