Ever drive to Florida? Many miles before you reach Dillon, S.C., you begin to be broadsided by large highway billboards pitching a highway stop near Dillon called “South of the Border,” a Mexican-themed establishment that apparently sells eats and enough fireworks to declare war on Canada.
The South of the Border beckoning never quits. You see them every few miles telling (or warning) you that you’re coming closer, so don’t miss it! Buses are welcomed!
One day, curiosity had to be served. We pulled in. We entered a huge, empty parking lot to find that South of the Border was nearly empty of customers. The sell had overwhelmed both the senses and the reality.
That’s much like watching Yankees telecasts on YES. They mostly open to Michael Kay emoting overwritten, excited and often trite come-ons to stay tuned to watch something extra special. Then it’s on to his tired “Let’s do it!” just before the first pitch. He often sounds like the master of ceremonies at a Cub Scout jamboree or Professor Harold Hill selling tubas to local yokels.
It doesn’t yet strike him that this kind of sell is unnecessary given that he’s selling a telecast…