1:26 PM
On Tuesday night I returned to my apartment to find a small box sitting on the steps with a Ford return address. It was too large for this month's bill, too small for a free car, just about right for a "Whoops--Your Alternator Might Explode, So Here's a New Part to Install Yourself" package. Instead, it turned out to be a free Ford Focus coffee mug. Sadly, I do not drink coffee, so the gesture lost a bit of its intended effect. Or did it? The enclosed note from Division President James G. O'Connor read:

Dear Ford Focus Owner,

Welcome to the Ford Focus family. The enclosed Welcome Gift will enhance your many years of driving pleasure.

First, I don't remember volunteering for the Ford Family when I signed the purchase agreement, so I'll be damned if I'm going to drive pell-mell through the Hollywood Hills killing starlets and painting "FORD TOUGH" on the walls in their blood. I already belong to the Monkey Cult, thankyouverymuch. Second, "Welcome Gift"; why is it capitalized? Are they trying to elevate their little gift to abstract symbol status--Truth, Beauty, Freedom, Welcome Gift? Third, how exactly does Ford know if I have many years of driving pleasure left, or if I purchased the car so that I could have a smooth ride in the six months before I die a horrible death? I think they're making some assumptions. But then, they're just getting started:

Your new stainless steel coffee mug is symbolic of the type of active lifestyle the Focus customer leads.

That's great if you want to talk that way in marketing meetings, guys, but leave it in the conference room, okay? Or at least be honest in your marketing speak: "We are trying to ensure that you bond with our product and will have brand loyalty for any future purchases you manage to finance." I also wonder if they have a different gift for each car. You know, something better for more expensive purchases: "Your new disease-free hooker is symbolic of the type of spendthrift extravagence embraced by the 2002 Thunderbird customer."

No one should have to be without their favorite beverage as they jaunt to and from the destinations that their active life leads them.

I peer into the misty past and see a Ford copywriter, working late on her daughter's birthday to write this stupid note, and realizing that the first draft of this sentence ended in a preposition. A quick change, but she's still not sure if it reads right. "Oh well," she thinks. "It's in the middle of the note. Nobody will notice if it reads awkwardly."

The sentence also makes me wonder how firmly Ford might stick to that thought if, say, my favorite beverage was Captain and Coke. Maybe I should tuck this note into my wallet in case I ever get pulled over. I may not be able to take on the criminal justice system, but with Ford at my back I'd be willing to try.

This spill-proof mug fashionably fits into your cup holders and is embossed with the Ford Focus Logo.

I won't even argue whether the mug is truly spill-proof, or if it's just spill resistant. But there are two issues I will press: 1) Logo. Don't capitalize it unless it's at the beginning of a sentence. 2) Somebody needs to explain to me who the fashion mavens are who sat down and decided how exactly a mug should fit into a cupholder. I need to know their identities so I can hunt them down and beat them bloody. Seriously.

We are confident that you will enjoy your new Ford Focus with edge design inside and out and interior room spacious enough for you, your friends, and all your necessary gear.

By now you can probably break down this sentence yourself. No, I have no idea what "edge design inside and out" is either, and I drive the car every day.

The moral of all of this: beware, all you copywriters, people actually do read your work...so it better make sense, damn it!

I'm going to go take some deep breaths now.