As Patches O’Houlihan from the movie “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story” wisely declared, “You’ve got to learn the five D’s of dodgeball: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge.” I never thought these words would assist me at UF.
The setting is Turlington. It’s around noon on a Wednesday when you decide you’d like a delicious beverage from Jamba Juice. Alas, to reach your destination you must travel through the tricky obstacle course that is Turlington Plaza. As you take your first steps, images of fruity concoctions floating in your mind, you’re suddenly bombarded by an eager student and an overly friendly, “Here, take one!” Swift on your feet, you avoid the attack — or so you think, until you sidestep into another outstretched hand full of fliers. “No, thank you” being your only defense, you put your head down and pretend to text, staving off flier-wielders until you finally reach your destination. Crisis averted due to dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge. Phew.
For how many of us does this scenario ring true? I know I have walked the extra length around Turlington just to avoid the epicenter at the height of its activity. As entertaining as the evangelists and protesters are sometimes, it’s not worth a hailstorm of fliers that I’ll crumple up instantly.
In considering all the money and resources it takes for various student groups to create these fliers, one has to wonder how successful they really are. How many people actually take a flier, consider it and attend the event advertised? I would bet big bucks that almost every student takes fliers to be polite or just to keep moving quickly (I have mastered the grab-and-go method), and it either ends up in the trash, on the ground or in the bottom of a purse or backpack.
I have never been part of a student organization that attempted fliering, so I cannot speak for its effectiveness. As ignorant as I may sound, my opinion stems from recalling my own experiences and witnessing other students throwing fliers away, not to mention simply noticing the mass of them covering the ground by mid-afternoon. To students who believe in fliering, I’d like to ask that you at least keep them effective and useful for those who actually read them.
Last week, I was off my dodge game and as a result was sucked into taking a flier. Feeling generous, I decided to scan it and was informed of a huge sale on purses, shoes and accessories. I was assured I would get the absolute best prices around. Unfortunately, the flier failed to mention where this amazing sale was occurring, and it thus ended up in a bin.
With involvement so shoved down our throats, it’s understandable why so many students rise at the crack of dawn to thrust fliers into the unsuspecting passerby’s hands. What could be an easier marketing method? Everyone at this school has their niche, and they want to expand their membership through the distribution of fliers. This method is understandable, yet my personal observations and experiences lead me to believe that it is ineffective.
When students are in a hurry to get to class, they don’t care about your basket weaving team or weekend service project. As with the jewelry sale flier, some fliers are blatant wastes of resources. However, for those organizations seeking awareness, I propose more timely methods. After all, we are in the 21st century. Fliers should stay in the past where they aren’t littering our campus.
Without them, perhaps we could navigate Turlington in a more peaceful manner, free of solicitation.
Laura Ellermeyer is a first-year finance major. Her column appears on Tuesdays.
