“The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes, but in having new eyes, in seeing the universe with the eyes of another, of hundreds of others, in seeing the hundreds of universes that each of them sees.” 
                                             — Marcel Proust

{Courtesy : Advertising community-Toronto,am not providing the blog URL}

“get dirty”, “get mud all over”, “do some dirty dancing”, “get down and dirty”,”it’s time to burn your bras”, “you slog your butt off, get some fucking life”, …..well, my dear folks who I work with at LOWE, crammed me with messages of such kind. I have been a very sincere girl at my work place and in my relationships (where I nurture high-decibel expectations) but….life has different a spin for me, all the time, always! While I am at my presentation, I received this update (containing the image and the wise saying by Marcel Proust) from the blog driven by a team of Advertising professionals in Canada….I,especially, loved the image, while lost self in the pearl of wisdom…umm, that reminds me I still have not finished Proust’s Swan’s Way….“get some fucking life” drove me wild, as I recalled the bad boy, the Hell’s Angel, the rebel without a cause, the Iconic Harley Davidson.

One of the brand’s historical campaigns that     forced the audience to consider a Harley ‘today’, not just ‘one day’ and  differentiated Harley from the imitators with a campaign that only Harley-Davidson could produce harley-davidson_sportster_1.jpgAt the crucial stage of the strategic development, the team viewed one of many videos on the history of the Harley-Davidson, for further inspiration. Within it lay the excuse. A section of the film featured the life of a late US H.O.G. (Harley Owners Group) Chairman who died in a motorcycling accident. The inscription on his gravestone read:‘Whilst he was alive, he lived’

The excuse for overcoming all the rational barriers was time – the fragility of life, the fact that this is our one and only chance. Life is too short to keep putting off the Harley you have always promised yourself, to let rational thought get in the way. Can you guess what’d inspired the creative team that was working on this campaign then? A poem

I’d pick more daisies

If I had my life to live over, I’d try and make more mistakes next time.
I would relax.
I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I know of very few things I would take seriously,
I would be crazier.
I would be less hygienic.
I would take more chances.
I would take more trips.
I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers and watch more sunsets …..
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones.
You see, I am one of those people who live prophylactically and sanely and sensibly, hour
after hour, day after day.
Oh, I have had my moments and, if I had to do it over again, I’d have more of them.
In fact, I’d try to have nothing else. Just moments, one after another, instead of living so
many years ahead each day.
I have been one of those people who never go anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute.
If I had to do it over again, I would go places and do things and travel lighter than I have.
If I had my life to live over, I would start bare-footed earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall.
I would play hooky more.
I wouldn’t make such good grades except by accident.
I would ride on more merry-go-rounds.
I’d pick more daisies.

Nadine Stair, aged 87,Lewisville KY USA

Inspired by this simple yet life-revealing poem, a well crafted brand proposition beamed at the world –

“Every day of your life without a Harley-Davidson is another day wasted”

A parallel was drawn between one of Woody Allen’s best short stories “Whore of Mensa” and me, amidst a rigorous”mental-masturbation” session over one of the brands we client service, when the discussion around the table took (un)avoidable a deviation and stopped at me, glanced and immediately winked at me..she reminds us of Woody’s ”Whore of Mensa”….my stance on that ”Whore” bit is extremely lucid and irrevocable, I am far away from that stretch on physical connotations, but yea, let me confess at the secret chamber that my knees fail to carry me through the great blast of energy that occurs whenever I encounter an intelligent man armed with both the art and skill of making great conversations, i.e. essentially, I fall for intelligent men, I tend to overlook the other paraphernalia and invest my energies on that so called victim, till the point when I see myself as a “laudable brave heart”. 

”Mensa” is the critical word -pulsating heart cells over an impending stimulation that emerges from mere an exchange of words extended for hours, i.e. I meant discussions on a specific issue or flexibility to cover a few more corners of an exotic world that is not inhabitated by regular tribes. ”Mensa”, essentially, is a community of super intelligent people with the IQ levels that are unreachable by the majority of the world. And there is a community of aspirers who nurtures healthy salience of the aforementioned world and it strives harder to grab hold of one “Mensa (ite)”, which I endorse too! It’s the “Psychological or Mental orgasm” that envelops my cheeks, burns them red and pulsates the heart under my supple breasts. ”Mensa” tendency, while one hand stays on as a facilitator for an intellectual exchange between humans, it also allows an interesting investigation of one’s attitude towards life and that’s what I get truly excited about! Woody Allen’s “The Whore of Mensa” stands out as the perfect illustration of the cerebral orgasm, which is far more stimulating than the physical. This short story is about a married man who desperately seeks the company of “women who are mentally stimulating” and he is willing to pay through the nose for it, with a decided note of ”zero-involvement”. Almost like an ATM – A quick release of intellectual experience. And when he is threatened by the network of “Whores of Mensa” that his activities would be revealed to his wife, who lacks energies in brain compartment, he approaches the private investigator who makes himself, later, useful at the moment of crisis.

Oh everyone has got a weakness in this life…and my weakness is “ever refreshing and realistic look at Intelligent men”….so I stared back at the banterish figure and doggedly pursued my stance.          🙂

{short story link :The Whore of Mensa by Woody Allen}