Longtime readers of The New Yorker likely will remember Roger Angell’s end-of-the-year poem, which boiled down the events of the previous 12 months into easily digestible rhymes. Angell, alas, has given up this annual tradition.
But even when he was writing it, Angell usually didn’t cover direct marketing in his verse. Which is a shame, because the industry offers a great deal of fodder. Had he focused on significant quarter-by-quarter DM events in 2003, his poem might have read something like the following.
January-March 2003
‘Round New Year’s, Priceline’s boss did deign
To hire Shatner once again.
One could hear the ad men cry
