Sitting in a mechanic’s waiting area is one of those odd in-between spaces where time feels both paused and constrained, providing opportunity for the mind to roam. It is not quite the luxury an hour on the massage table is, but still, it is brief period when your other activity options are somewhat limited. I’m probably still in recovery from the effects of my 6th grade teacher’s frequent warning that “idle minds are the devil’s workshop,” but it’s a challenge to know if the places my mind goes count as idleness or curiosity. So, I let it roam.
On my most recent trip to a garage, my attention was captured by the décor created by postings on the walls. One that stood out was a Mastercard/Visa sign from an earlier generation. This vintage advertisement was simple in design, but not the compact adhesive sticker commonly pasted in a corner door window or placed on the front of the cash register. This was a 24” x 20” metal piece posing as wall art. Its faded colors and choice of font both suggested it had occupied that space for a while. What really caught my eye though, was the 3” x 5” sticker placed in the middle of it. Like a squatter who decided this place looked as good as any to pitch camp, a small sign reading “DISCOVER” was planted in the middle. Further down AmEx claimed a little real estate near the border – reminding me of the song about a having a cabin just inside of heaven. It wasn’t much, but at least it was included and that was enough.
I suspect these new additions were simply an act of communication efficiency on the part of the garage owner, letting customers know what forms of payment were accepted. But to me, like a late arrival at the movies who plops down in the seat immediately in front of you and who happens to have a Charlie Brown-sized head, thus blocking your vision, it was as though Discover had invaded another company’s space.
Of course, my curiosity didn’t end with the signs. That is how so-called rabbit holes operate, isn’t it? One tangential thought leads to another, and then another, until you’re miles from where your starting point. This innocent survey of wall-art led to thinking about the efforts we undertake in order to be seen. These credit card giants are household names now, but it hasn’t always been that way. Huge budgets have been invested since their founding to achieve the market dominance they now enjoy. Businesses continue to invest in promotions designed to imprint their brands in our minds. A 30-second ad during last year’s the Super Bowl reportedly cost $7-8 million. That is lot of George Washingtons!
For businesses, it makes sense. How would they entice us to purchase their goods or employ their services if we were unaware of their existence? Even if we aren’t interested now, when the moment arrives the effects of advertising awaken like a sleeper cell and influences our thinking. Need credit? VISA/MC. Feeling hungry? McDonald’s Golden Arches. In the market for a good walking shoe? The Nike Swoosh. We recognize them immediately. Even the little M&M characters are widely recognized. (Ever wonder why Ms. Brown is the only one with a title?) The theory seems to be that if you want to be known, you have to stand out. If you wish to stand out, you need to be seen and preferably memorable.
A lot of time is spent trying to be seen. We fool ourselves if we think these efforts are limited to business advertising. Some personalities are like that as well. Recently, Judi and I tried a new Indian restaurant that opened nearby. For a while we were the only guests. The quiet environment we were enjoying ended abruptly when the next party of three arrived. One person in the group needed to speak at a high volume so that the entire place could hear his ramblings. Much of it focused on an attempt to barter with the server over the cost of a meal because he could get it cheaper down the road! My interior response to that was, “Well, why not go order it there? Who’s stopping you? But most of all, let me eat my Shahi Korma in peace!”
What drives that kind of performance? Some of us want to be noticed. It may be exaggerated volume. Or perhaps with body movements, a gait that invites a glance or even a stare. While some glide with grace, others strut with a little dip or a skip or a bounce in their step. I’m more of a plodder myself. Nothing graceful or distinctive, but it gets me where I’m going in good time.
Clothing is another vehicle for visibility. Flamboyant or monochrome. Bright or drab. Clothing choices send messages about things like status, identity, or cultural values. In an effort to promote values like equality and simplicity, early Quakers committed to dressing plainly, seeming to prefer the color gray. Even so, it has been noted that some who could afford to do so opted for silk over more common fabrics. A small thing, perhaps, but it was noticeable enough to have been remembered. Apparently even they weren’t free from the urge to distinguish themselves from the rest of the community just a little.
Today’s broader culture adopts a bolder approach to fashion. Mixing stripes with plaid or polka dots may have once earned sideways glances or even some finger pointing, but it is barely noticed these days. Loud colors. Provocative phrases on caps and shirts like walking billboards. Or oversized glasses with stylish frames. Who says you need an invitation to Hollywood’s red carpet to strike a pose?
Even hats beg to be noticed. For years I wore a black fedora during the winter when I went out in the cold. With the hat along with the coat and black beard, some commented they couldn’t decide if I looked more like a rabbi or member of the mafia. I was more concerned with warmth than visibility, but I suppose I didn’t mind being seen.
Social media feeds that desire, probably to the extreme. I don’t really care what my high school or college friend had for breakfast, but I do enjoy knowing what they’re up to. And, I’ve learned quite a few DIY skills watching YouTube videos. Still, I’m still puzzled and fascinated by the so-called influencers who attract loyal followers who hang on their every post. It seems to underscore the observation that we like to be seen – some of us more so than others.
But why? What is behind this effort to be seen?
I think it is a first step in fulfilling a desire to be known (which in my view is more than simply being seen.) The expressed desire to be seen or heard often comes out in the mediation of relationship conflicts, usually because one or both parties feel ignored, misunderstood, or abused. In college we were assigned to read Martin Buber’s I and Thou, which spoke to the longing for mutual recognition and authentic connection. Some faith traditions even see this as a reflection of God’s desire to know and be known by humanity.
I’m not aware of having any such lofty motive in mind when I decide what hat to wear or what photo to post. However, the acknowledgement of authentic connections resonates with me, particularly as I adopt a more leisurely pace in retirement. Some of us may be a little more starved for attention than others, but I get it. Community matters.
I see another rabbit hole on the horizon — if I did want to be seen, for what would I want to be known? I may have to chase that thought another day.
