Are You More A Marxist Or A Lennonist?

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Karl Marx (John Jabez Edwin Mayal) and Vladimir Lenin (Unknown, presumably official), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

During dinner at the recent New York Press Association Publishers’ Conference, talked turned towards the misuse of the term “click-bait.” In a strict sense, the term applies to misleading descriptions of internet links. These phrases “bait” you to “click” the link; hence, “click-bait.” Links that have nothing to do with the sentence that lured you to click makes this technique unethical. That’s why “click-bait” has such a negative connotation.

Copywriters for more than a century have searched for sentences that “sizzle.” Elmer Wheeler documented the early years of this journey in his 1937 book Tested Statements That Sell. If you don’t recall the name of this Rochester native dubbed “America’s Greatest Salesman,” you will certainly know his most famous phrase: Continue Reading “Are You More A Marxist Or A Lennonist?”

Blasdell, The Beatles, And Brotherhood

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There was always The Beatles. Or at least it seemed that way.

I was too young to remember a time before The Beatles.

Strike that.

I certainly do remember the years before The Beatles (or, more appropriately, their music) landed on American shores. I can recall several memorable scenes from the time I was one or two years old.

I remember watching Mercury launches on the black-and-white TV in the living room of our apartment. I remember waiting for my mother to return home (from either work or school—that part I can’t remember) in that same living room on 83 Victory Avenue. I remember taking walks on that same street.

I remember staying at my grandparents on Ingham Avenue while my parents went out. I slept in the crib in the back room. Rather, I was supposed to be sleeping in the crib in the back room. What I really did was Continue Reading “Blasdell, The Beatles, And Brotherhood”

The Morning the Music Died

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the December 14, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel. I decided, for the purposes of this blog, to switch this so it better coincides with the actual anniversary; hence, the beginning parenthetical note that occurred in the original publication might seem a little strange until you read next week’s post.]

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(C Note: OK, OK, so I’m a week late. I just thought it would be better to give our local merchants a plug as early in the Christmas season as possible.)

Chronologically, I was too young to grow up with the Beatles. Still, a very young aunt and several teenage cousins provided the avenue for me and my brother to experience at least the fringe of Beatlemania.

Not that we fully understood everything. Let me share with you just one example. During one family party in the summer of 1967,  a cousin spirited me away to her room, warning me not to tell my mother what she was about to show me. She proceeded to Continue Reading “The Morning the Music Died”

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