The chief enemy of creativity... is "good" sense. ~Pablo Picasso

Magazine Magnets

One of the things I was missing most since my departure from the "new" world... magazines. 

Then like an angel...A friend offered out of nowhere... to give me her old ones for my 5 hour flight. I barely managed to keep my nose out of them until we were well above the clouds (didn't want to waste them)

 I was downright giddy... removing them from my bag, putting them in the seat back pocket in front of me... using all self control to wait until we were at least 10 feet off the ground before I tore into them. It was almost scary how excited I was to peek at what the rest of the world was seeing inside these colorful picture filled pages. For the first few minutes it was exactly how I remembered it...

Then... my whole mood shifted. 

As I thumbed through the pages I became more and more aware of all the "new" products... that are sitting on those shelves... in those stores I don't frequent anymore... and I felt jilted. This sucked. New scientifically proven eye cream amped with caffeine to lessen the bags, and fortified with resveratrol to help reverse aging... that's tinted! It probably promises to make you more likely to win the Lottery too! 

Then... the taunting came from nail polish hues that are in for the season, which I definitely don't have and can't buy, and those feather colored things for your hair, and spritzes and sprays that lure me in with their pull and sniff pages... and these aren't even the smut magazines!

 That's when it dawned on me. This whole thing was just a huge marketing ploy. Even the few articles that are in there are laden with tactics to get you to join a gym (to buy new "workout" clothes) so you can lose weight (and have to buy new "going out" clothes), get a date (and feel obligated to test the new makeup trends) you get the idea...

 Here I was feeling like I was somehow behind, inadequate, outdated...
But prior to picking up those magazines, I was a pretty happy camper.
No one had commented...if my clothes were out of style, or that my nail polish was the wrong hue... I never felt like people were looking at me funny (although I was hanging out with people who were running around in their underpants....)

Heck, I even managed to pack for my trip to Hawaii without shopping, and wasn't sad about it at all! until now...
Leaving that island felt like I had just enjoyed a retreat... but reading those magazines threw me for a little turbulence. 

 Also in that seat back pocket...a book about the 1989 Ironwar between two Ironman greats.

And filed away upstairs in my memory - not clouded by any guilt or marketing gimmicks... the year Lew Hollander and runner up Mirinda Carfrae had brought me to tears twice in one day and once again, renewed my faith in ones own strength... My belly had welcomed a slew of fish tacos and acai bowls throughout the week... I'd been for a swim with the tropical fish, a few runs down the famous Alii drive... and not ONCE... thought about all the stuff  I couldn't buy... that wouldn't make a darn bit of difference in my life anyway. 

When the Hawaiian airlines flight attendants came by I offered my magazines up for their trash pick up. They just smiled. Oblivious to my newfound revelation... they probably flipped through them later,  not realizing that each page was secretly ratcheting up to that extra $20 they didn't intend to spend on their next trip to Target. Not me. There's no bullseye on my back, on my bags or on my credit card statement.

The next thing you know we were about to land and I was 120 pages deep into a true story that was not only giving me a history lesson, but also a good reason to do something... rather than buy something...

In case you were wondering... It was a Gift... and I've already promised it away... when I'm finished :) 

1 comment:

  1. Nice to see somebody else put this into perspective! I get the same feeling after I come back from Uganda. The things that were once important, aren't anymore. Great thought!