A pair of takes on a slightly morbid Manufacturers Life campaign – one happy, one dark.
Insuring a Skater’s Dreams
Originally published on Torontoist on December 1, 2009.
Mary sighed. Her heart had been set on being the greatest figure skater the world had ever seen. But now the life insurance funds she and her mother had received after her father’s fatal encounter with an exploding kiln had dwindled to nothing, which made the replacement of the last pair of disintegrating skates handed down from her cousin in Don Mills an impossible task. Mary’s mother saw the tears well up in the sad little girl’s eyes during the bus ride home and knew who could help restore the beaming smile on her daughter’s face: the MAN FROM MANUFACTURERS. Surely he could sympathize with the family’s plight and provide dear Mary with a Christmas miracle.
December 25 arrived. Mary was so thrilled when the MAN FROM MANUFACTURERS dropped in for a surprise visit and dangled from his right hand the skates she had so longingly looked at in the store window. So was Mary’s mother. Within a year, the MAN FROM MANUFACTURERS was Mary’s new father. He was always there to cheer her on from the grandstand as she pursued her dreams of figure-skating stardom.
He was also there to make sure all of the family’s insurance needs were met, which came in handy the night teenage Mary and her fellow skaters wrapped the family car around a tree after a wild post-show celebration.
Why Must This Sad Boy Go?
Originally published on Torontoist on March 9, 2010.
Back in December we brought you the story of Mary and how the Man from Manufacturers saved her dreams of skating glory. Alas, not all children were as lucky as Mary…
Take sad little Johnny. He had enjoyed the childhood of which 1950s ad copy writers’ dreams were made: a father who played catch with him every night and took him to wrestling matches at Maple Leaf Gardens, and a mother who stayed at home and made the best Jell-O moulds on the block. Johnny’s father may have been a caring provider, but he lacked financial acumen and foresight. He was the type of man who believed his constitution was sturdy enough that life insurance was a waste of money. An intimate encounter with malfunctioning equipment at work changed his mind in a hurry.
This brings us to the sad melodrama playing out before your eyes. In a panic, Johnny’s mother sold as many items as she could to raise enough to live on while she figured out her future. This left Johnny with a lamp he won at a school fair, a lone suitcase of clothes topped by a shred of his favourite blanket, and a green trunk full of sports programs, photos from fishing trips and several Hardy Boys adventures. His mother called the Man from Manufacturers and discussed options to protect Johnny. She felt a deepening bond with the insurance agent as they discussed insurance options, yet was puzzled when he rejected her invitations to dinner. It was only when a picture of a smiling young girl with a gleaming pair of ice skates appeared on his desk that she knew the Man from Manufacturers would be unable to take care of her and Johnny permanently. Embarrassed by her overtures, Johnny’s mother couldn’t face any other Man from Manufacturers and bought a policy from another insurer.
Johnny spent moving day in a state of shock, repeating “why must we go?” like a record on a locked groove. He soon found himself in a small subsidized apartment far from his friends in suburbia. He hated his new surroundings and soon developed a chip on his shoulder. By the time Johnny reached his late teens, his mother discovered that purchasing a policy for Johnny was, tragically, one of the savviest financial moves she had ever made.