Sylvia Buys An Ad, Becomes Philanthropist

Sylvia
By Anne Sullivan

Back and forth, back and forth, clutching pad and pen, Sylvia paced from living/dining room to the kitchen and back again. After eleven minutes of this, I gave up reading my newspaper to screech, “Sylvia, please stop. You’re making me nervous.”
“Well you might be nervous,” she said as she ground to a halt in front of the fireplace. “I’m working up to a melt-down.”
“Why is that?” I asked. “You’ve been fed. You’ve even had a pig’s ear. Whatever could be wrong with your life?”
“I’m at a standstill. I’m working on my February charity giving and I don’t know what to do.
I want to do something wonderful but I don’t have that kind of money. Come to think of it, I don’t have much of any kind of money.”
“It’s very kind and generous of you to give what money you have to charity. But why are you getting upset about it?”
“I’m trying to think of something meaningful to do,” she answered. “Something spectacular. I want to be known as a philanthropist. That should give some points toward getting on a Reality Show.”
I sighed and said, “Whatever your crass motives, it’s still very good of you. What organizations do you want to give to?”
“The animal rescues: Fur ‘n Feathers in Catron County and APAS in Socorro. They’ve done so much for my people – so to speak. Like I said, I want to do something magnificent that won’t cost me too much.”
“Well, you could buy an ad in the Mountain Mail telling readers to donate to APAS and Fur ’n Feathers.”
“I could?” I watched as the wheels churned around in her brain. “I could, couldn’t I?” she went on, “Yes, it could be a big ad, with a picture of me. After all I am a dog.”
“Yes, you could,” I said. “It would not only help the animal rescues; it would help the Mountain Mail as well.”
“So how would it help the Mountain Mail?” she asked.
“Newspapers survive on the revenue they receive from ads. It costs money to publish a newspaper.”
“Revenue?! Money?! Does that mean I have to pay for an ad?”
“Only $32,” I said.
“Only?! If that’s the case why don’t I just donate the money directly to APAS and Fur ‘n Feathers?”
“That’s the beauty of advertising. When published in the newspaper, eight thousand people will see it and –“
Sylvia interrupted here with, “You mean eight thousand people will see my picture? Eight thousand. That’s a lot of people.”
I nodded. “Yes and hopefully some of them will donate. Fur ‘n Feathers and APAS will get much more than if just you donated.”
“Oh,” she said, not entirely convinced. “I thought you had to have a business to advertise.”
“Who says? Of course, most businesses do or should advertise but anyone can take out an ad on any subject so long as it’s in good taste. You could take out an ad on giving to Haiti or wishing a friend a happy birthday.”
“Hey, if I did that for your birthday every year,” Sylvia said, “I’d spend so much I’d own the paper.”
I didn’t respond to that zinger.
Silence didn’t reign for long. It was soon interrupted by, “Will you take a new picture of me? I want to look my best for the eight thousand readers. And I imagine I’ve changed a little since my last picture.”
“I’ll say you have. There’s a lot more of you now. Yes, I’ll take a new picture,” I said in response to her scowl.

Sylvia Buys An Ad, Becomes Philanthropist