Crushalogs IV: The Revenge.

As a continuing social project, I am examining the volume and weight of catalogs I receive in the mail as the Christmas shopping season gins up into high gear. This is the fourth time I have done this. It's not as scientific an examination as I would hope; I have done these on different dates in November, and I have not spaced the years out evenly. 

In a nutshell, or perhaps a mailbox, I have been curious as to whether online advertising is killing the mail catalog business, so I have been looking at whether the sheer weight of catalogs has been decreasing as time goes on. Are they still considered an effective way to reach potential customers? If so, the overall catalog weight should be increasing or staying about the same. If not, it should be dwindling like the number of non-"commemorative edition" publications on the supermarket checkout magazine racks. 

Here are the results from the three previous entries:

Crushalogs I: November 4, 2016 -- Several weeks earlier in November than this year, and I estimated more than 10 pounds to that time; the catalogs seemed to be thicker eight years ago, but I may have exaggerated the total weight. Bad science, me! 

Crushalogs II: November 8, 2019 -- I also did not make either a count or a weight of the catalogs in 2019. I do note that in 2019, as in 2016, there was a giant dump at the beginning of November. This year it seems to have been parsed out over the month. I wonder if that is because Thanksgiving is so late in 2024?

Crushalogs III: November 19, 2022 -- Two years ago I did weigh the catalogs, and got a total of two pounds. Well, I think I can beat that weight this year! 

So let me load the catalogs into a plastic shopping bag, and then use the old luggage scale... And: 

Almost four pounds! So it looks like catalog mailings are up this year, double by weight from '22. It seems like in a lot of areas, smart businesses are pulling back from the new technological approaches and going back to what works. Maybe catalogs really are the way to reach holiday shoppers. After all, TV viewership is down, landline phones are way down, but if you live somewhere, you have a mailbox. It's a lot easier to focus on a few quality selections in a catalog than deal with the firehose of dubious miscellanea from online stores (hello, Amazon). If a company doesn't just chuck a lot of cheap Chinese crap at its clients, its catalog will likely be of higher interest. 

MAI Fulfillment says one of the advantages of mail catalogs is that they offer measurable results for businesses, justifying the large expenses of design, printing, and mailing. It depends on what kind of customers are being targeted, I supposed. 

What will 2025 bring to the catalog business? Oh, who knows. I have no idea what's coming down the road. I'm grumpy enough now. Maybe next year I'll go full Grinch and steal all the catalogs from all the mailboxes in Whoville and use them to build a giant bonfire to scare off the Whos. Not likely, but who can say what the future holds?

December: The Catalog Reckoning.

Back on December 1, I posted about the catalogs I had already received that were Christmas-themed. By that date I had received 14 catalogs. I thought you'd like to see what the pile looks like now. 

There we have it, friends! Thirty-nine catalogs as of December 1. Weighs close to eight pounds -- about as much as a dozen Charlie Brown trees. 

The pile could have been higher, but I excluded some catalogs. For example, Lands' End sent us a Christmas gift catalog, but also a winter-wear catalog; since the latter was not holiday-themed, it did not count. To make the stack, the catalog had to be Christmassy, intended to sell gifts or decorations. 

Some, like Grandin Road and Shutterfly, sent only one; others sent more. Herrschners, Ross-Simons, Hammacher Schlemmer, and the Vermont Country Store sent multiples. No surprise on that, since we've made purchases from these merchants in the past. Maybe not in fifteen years, but it is the season of hope. 

To date, the number of purchases inspired by this stack of catalogs has been approximately 0. However, their arrival always serves to remind us that they are there and that they have nice stuff, so if that motivates one of us to check out the company site, it's a win for them.

Maybe I should scour these catalogs, since I do not know what to get for my wife. Any ideas? And don't say Fredcoin. She could wallpaper the living room with Fredcoin for all she cares. 

November 1: Merry Christmas!

Happy November! Here is the roundup of Christmas catalogs so far. 

I've held on to all of them since the start of October. It's not a lot -- fourteen assorted catalogs. Some of them can be forgiven for arriving before the first trick-or-treater showed up at the door. You see Herrschner's in the lower left; that's a crafters' catalog, and crafters have been receiving Christmas-themed mailings since April. Some of those handmade Christmas presents take a looooong time. You think Ralphie's aunt threw together his pink nightmare bunny suit overnight?

Also, we have a couple of Catholic catalogs, and they feature items that the faithful may want for Advent. Advent begins on December 3 this year -- actually later than usual -- and if you want an Advent wreath or Advent calendar, you'll want it soon after Thanksgiving. 

The others are just piling on, trying to get top-of-mind when the season starts in earnest. 

November 1 seems pretty early for Christmas, but you know what? All together these catalogs are smaller than the famous Sears Wish Book, which used to arrive right after Labor Day. So there's that.

Crushalogs III: The Secret of the Ooze.

They're back, and they're fabulous. 

Every three years on the dot I blog about the load of catalogs I've gotten for Christmas, usually around the middle of November. 

The original Crushalogs piece in 2016 was one of my most read posts ever, as I noted in the sequel in 2019. Since then Google got out of the practice of referring blogs to other blog users on the Blogger platform, and readership across the board has plummeted. I guess Google hasn't figured out a way to get us to buy phony visitors as Twitter has done and TikTok still does. They probably don't care anymore. "Who reads blogs? That's old-man stuff." And so they leave the Blogger upkeep to the the virtually unemployable, the habitually stoned, and the dumdum interns.

But enough complaints. Above you see most of the load of Christmas catalogs I have received since the season started around mid-October. A few got away, I'm sure; for example, I get frequent mailings from the wholesale club, and they sort of ease slowly into the holiday theme before they go all-in on Christmas, so it can be hard to tell when they're nearly Christmas or really most sincerely Christmas. I only want to include the latter in the annual roundup. 

Also, I'm sure a few made it into the recycle bin without any consideration for the importance of this blog. That may be due to my forgetfulness, or to the actions to unnamed others in this home. 

The question remains, however: Have I yet received enough Christmas mailings to outweigh a ream of paper? 

There was a time when you'd ask that about the phonebook. Many things were compared to the size, girth, and weight of the phone book, especially the Manhattan Yellow Pages. But the phonebook has become the phonepamphlet. Geez, I'm old-fashioned and even I ignore the phonebook. So instead I'm comparing the load of catalogs to date against a fresh ream of 20-pound copier paper, the kind where you want the printout to be legible but not necessarily suitable for framing. So, using my handheld luggage scale, let's see which weighs more! 

Ream of paper: 5 pounds

Fred's catalogs to date: 2 pounds 

I think I can safely say that catalog mailings are down from previous years. Could be the lousy economy, or just that more and more people ignore mailings as time marches on. 

I will say this: It's been a couple of years since Restoration Hardware sent me their enormous card-stock catalog set, and that would definitely have tilted the fight to the catalogs. That would have weighed close to the same as the ream of paper all by itself. Hell, if you request the lot, that’s 2,500+ pages right there, and not cheap local coupon-clipper-mailer paper! Looks like RH discovered that I work in publishing, though, and so I don't have two thousand clams to throw around for hairy ottomans. But if you have someone on your list who wants a good doorstop, or a beginner's weightlifting set, request all their catalogs and that's one person off your list for free! 

Well, now it's to the recycling bin with you, catalogs, where after you will join your brethren in the landfill, because no one wants recycling and they won't burn scrap paper for energy like they should. Cheerio!

Moments and mements.

Yesterday I was out and about, rather busy being social. (Me! Out amid the populace! Can you imagine?) Therefore all I can offer you this morning are some stolen moments and stolen memes, collected with the utmost care over the latter part of October. 

And, because I got my first Christmas catalog of the year in the mail yesterday:

Crushalogs II: Eclectic Bugaloo.

One of the most popular posts I've ever made on this blog, going by traffic numbers, was the one from November 4, 2016, detailing the crush of catalogs that were all timed to arrive right after Halloween, testing the strength of the mailman and the holding power of my mailbox.

Well, it happened again on Monday -- thirteen catalogs in one day.

Catalanche!!!!

Seriously, if my life was a cartoon I'd have opened the mailbox on Monday and been flung across the street by the Christmas catalogs bursting to get out.

Most of them went out with the recycling a couple of days later. Actually, I think we only held on to the Shutterfly book, and that's just a reminder that if we want to make our own cards again this year we had better get to it.

We wondered why, in the Internet age, companies are still willing to spend a fortune mailing these things. After all, the rising cost of paper and postage over the years is one of the reasons so many magazines have gone belly-up, but the catalogs march on. Don't people who shop at home usually do so by the Internet? What gives?

Well, the US Postal Service -- not a disinterested party by any means -- had lots of pro-catalog data in this article, from which I quote only a few things:

📮 72% of people surveyed said that catalogs make them more interested in that retailer’s products, and 84% have purchased an item after seeing it in a catalog.

📮 Studies show that catalogs even help ease the anxiety around receiving bills.

📮 Easy to consume, catalogs provide the opportunity for consumers to slow down and enjoy the experience of being transported through images and stories—all over a cup of coffee.

📮 Even though they are a tech generation, millennials are embracing mail. 

I guess these people know what they're doing. It certainly doesn't bother me to get them, it just astounds me when they arrive all at the same time. When you get thirteen at once you're not being transported over a cup of coffee, you're being transported over a seven-course meal. But I have had relatives for whom I had no idea what to get as a present, and the timely arrival of a catalog for an outfit I had not been aware of saved the day. Of course, then I get that same catalog again until they put me in a box.

If, however, you get a lot of these kind of mailings and wish you didn't, there are some tips to help cut down on the crap. The USPS might be unhappy if you do, but I'll bet your mail carrier would be pleased.

The main tip is to use Catalog Choice, which they say will automatically stop any catalog you get that you would like to not get anymore, and do it for free. How is it possible?

Aliens.

No, Catalog Choice is a nonprofit outfit that's trying to cut down on the waste of paper and other resources used in junk mail. I guess that's a good enough reason.

I suppose if I get tired enough of the catalogs I will do something like that, but I admit that I kind of like the box full of festivity that shows up when I get the mail. And maybe it does help "ease the anxiety around receiving bills," even if shopping is a major cause of bill anxiety. Around the middle of December when the catalogs stop appearing, I feel a little sad, like Christmas is already coming to an end.

Summer scenes.

The days are getting so short! The SAD is kicking in! WAH!

Actually I wouldn't mind the days getting a little shorter; the dogs, especially junior dog Nipper, tend to be waking up too early. They're pretty good about it, but when I come rolling out of the bedroom after loafing around until 5:30 a.m., I feel like I've kept them waiting. I certainly don't like waiting when I have to use the can.

On a brighter note, I thought I might share a few visions of summer seen here and there.

I'm really proud of this little guy:

Last year I put in a couple of dahlias. One was to fill a hole, the other to replace a chrysanthemum that didn't survive the winter. I was told that in this climate, dahlia bulbs can only survive if you dig them up and let them slumber in a dirt-filled pot indoors, basically coddling them like children, or starlets. Well, I let nature take its course. One dahlia did go to the big nursery in the sky, but the other one survived and is doing great. Should be considerably bigger and more full of flowers this year.

This is... your guess is as good as mine.

It's the back of a tree house that was built long ago, and this window faces the street. Clearly the kids in the house had some kind of message here for passersby, but I have no idea what they were trying to say. I think I'm being taunted. Well, kids -- and they're probably old enough to have kids of their own now, judging by the look of the place -- you'll have to up your game. I've been taunted much worse than that, and I doubtless will be again.

Here is the most convincing sign that summer is indeed in full swing:

Yes, the first Herrschners Christmas catalog has arrived! My wife's a crafter, and she'll be glad to tell you that you had better be knitting already if you want your homespun presents to be under that tree on December 25. So get to work! Knit at the lake house! Knit at the barbecue! Knit at the ball game! Knit on the beach! There's only 179 days until Christmas!

Finally, here's the sky at 8:37 last night:

I'll take that.

Catalog people.

I've known for a long time that I'm in the wrong line of work -- really, the wrong line of life. I know I need a change. So I've decided to become a catalog person. 

The influx of get-ready-for-summer catalogs is nothing like the volume of Christmas-shopping catalogs, but unlike those festivity bombs full of decorations and gifts for others, summer-themed catalogs are all about your own life. Or, in my mailbox, my own life. And everyone in them is living a much better life than I am. 

No fooling -- look how nicely dressed the ladies are to go shopping! How pleasant and rain-free the day! Look at the guys at the barbecue! No spilled sauces, no ratty T-shirts, no spiderwebs! Nothing about that big ol' wood-burning pizza grill thing would remind you of my grill. Theirs is big, it's new, it's spotless, it doesn't look like it may have had an opossum sleeping in it at any point.

And no one in these catalogs is worried about the mortgage; no one got too fat for his old Bermuda shorts; no one is about to get stung by one camel-humper of a hornet; no one's kid is addicted to drugs or surliness or both; no one thinks that the doctor's office is going to call with bad spleen-related news; no one is holding a fifty-year grudge against someone who once occupied the same womb. It's all smiles and sunny days and great casualwear that fits perfectly. Look at Gramps! He even has all his hair! It's grayin', but it's stayin'!

Sadly, I cannot become a catalog person. The image is not real. Besides, I don't have enough hair.

People think that shopping (and thus capitalism) is all about envy of those who have more, about advertisers creating desires for things we don't need, about the mindless consumption of stuff by stupid automata. I believe it's really all about that moment of pleasure in purchasing a bit of this image, an image of ease and comfort, where everything is all right.

When you have the thing you wanted, it can provide a little or even a great deal of satisfaction. After all, we all need things -- food, clothing, shelter, tools. And we want to buy those things in an atmosphere reflective of a good life. But that image of ease and comfort never becomes reality.

We gotta have the things. We just can't let the illusion make the decisions for us. That's how we wind up with maxed-out cards, bankruptcies, bad relationships, even really bad tattoos. Lucky for me, I'm a cheapskate.

Don't blame capitalism. Blame the human condition.

Ah, catalogs! Ah, humanity!

Catalogs.

Every day I got to the mailbox and look for huge checks. Every day I am disappointed. But last Saturday was kind of a relief. Not that I didn't get checks, but because it was Veterans' Day and I got nothing. Which meant for one day at least I didn't have to lug fifteen pounds of catalogs into the house. 

Not that I mind receiving them. They start up too early, granted. I mentioned last year that I hardly look at them, but that's not strictly true. I find them occasionally fun to look at (as noted in years previous) and helpful when trying to think of things to get for professional gifts, for the person who has everything, for the person who hates everything. I have some tough customers on my list, man.

Here's a couple of catalogs I've been checking. 

Enstrom, the gift catalog for the guy on your list whose dentist needs business!

Let me say that we have received packages of Enstrom toffee in the past, and it is the finest toffee I've ever tried, delicious and delicate, not at all like trying to break a shovel blade with my teeth. However, it is toffee, tartar grout, and if you're sensitive to these things you can almost feel your enamel rotting while you eat. I'd love to send some to my editing clients, but if any of them have just paid for crowns or periodontal work they may cut me off the payroll.

If you're not in the Christmas spirit yet -- and it's November 13, so get going! -- you might need a visit from Frontgate.

Frontgate is owned by Cornerstone Brands, and they sell higher-end Christmas decorations. We've gotten some things from them in the past and they merry and brighten up the joint just swell. Lots of choices here -- this particular catalog features eight different holiday-themed doormats, for example, which is quite a lot of doormat choices. There's even more on their Web site, including a Margaritaville-themed Christmas mat. Frontgate: For All Your Santa Doormat Needs. 

I always get a kick out of the Signals catalog, although I'm not sure why I get it. It says it's for "Fans & Friends of Public Television." I'm not really a fan of PBS, obsession with Antiques Roadshow not withstanding, and I'm unclear on the Constitutionality of having government broadcasting at all. I would not, thus, call myself a Friend of Public Television, but neither am I a Sworn Enemy of it. All that said, they get some keen stuff in Signals. My favorite this year is undoubtedly the Endless Singing Christmas Joke Greeting Card. It seems like a typical sound-chip card, playing Christmas music -- but it won't shut off. And it can play for three hours. Attempts to shut it off make it louder. In desperation your victim tears it apart, releasing a gout of glitter. How better to say Happy Holidays than annoy the hell out of your loved ones? (Available in birthday hell too!)

Finally, we have The Gift Issue from jewelry hawkers Ross-Simons:

And you know what that means, boys! Gentlemen, start your credit cards!

Seasons.

October 16. You think the season is autumn.

But really... Christmasssstiiiiiiime is heeeeeeeerrre.....

In your mailbox!

In Home Depot!

At Walt Disney World!

I suppose there's no point in fighting it, although I would like them to wait until Halloween at least. Thanksgiving is pretty much a lost cause at this point, just a high-caloric speed bump on the road to the big wahoo on December 25.

I understand that people have to plan for the largest celebration of the year. If you're going to take the kids to Disney, for example, you have only a couple of weeks to figure out how to break into a bank vault or successfully counterfeit $100 bills. In addition to the catalogs shown, my wife gets a lot of craft catalogs, like from Michaels and JoAnn Fabric and Hobby Lobby and Yarn Bomb Monthly and Cross Stitch Hell and God knows what else. Of course, those outfits started with Christmas catalogs in June, but it takes a lot of time to knit that festive '69 Firebird cozy for Cousin Earl.

As I write this is, it is 70 days until Christmas. (That's 10 weeks, 1,680 hours, or 19.18% of 2017, according to TimeAndDate.com, for those of you playing Calendar Bingo at home.) For perspective, 70 days ago was August 7, which to my mind was pretty much yesterday. On August 7 I was complaining about bugs, as I was last Saturday, so it doesn't seem like much has changed. Therefore, Christmas will be upon us before you can take your next breath.

I guess what I mean to say is, tempus really fugits, especially when it comes to Christmas. Consider this your first warning.

Time's running out!

My wife got this urgent item in the mail:

LAST CHANCE TO ORDER! YOUR LIFE IS ALMOST OVER! ORDER NOW BEFORE DOOOOM OVERTAKES YOU!

This actually is better than their previous catalog pleas, which usually included a phrase like "THIS COULD BE YOUR LAST CATALOG!" on the cover. To which the answer was "Good," and into the recycle bin it goes.

Here's the thing: It has probably been at least ten years since my wife got anything from Maryland Square. The last time I got anything from them was never. And yet they keep trying, filling our mailbox with shoe goodness, hoping that this time she'll see that pair of pumps that she simply must have.

Maryland Square -- may I call you Mary? -- I'm sorry, but it's over. It's just not going to happen. It's not you, it's her. She's moved on to other places for her shoe needs. Her work attire requirements were part of it. Yes, I know, you have everything from dress heels to work boots... Don't make this harder than it has to be, Mary. Take it on the chin.

Sadly, I know the catalogs will keep coming, until we move and change our names. And every one will have some kind of petition, maybe even sound a little threatening.

One word, though, Mary: "BUY NOW OR WE SHOOT THIS PUPPY" will get the authorities on your case. Don't make us have to resort to that.