What's the deal?

As a kid, I went to Six Flags Magic Mountain several times. Often it was with a group from one of the camps I went to, but I also went often with my friend Adam who lived near the amusement park. We got to know the rides pretty well, and I have fond memories of those trips. We'd debate whether the front or the back was more fun on Ninja, see who could make the best faces for the picture on Viper, and scream inappropriate things on the big drops of Colossus. Good times all around and the perfect place for adolescent boys.

In the years since, I've had two main thoughts about Magic Mountain: I don't even know what rides are still there since they kept changing everything, and I hate the commercials with the dancing old guy. (Note: If you've never witnessed the commercials of which I speak, do yourself a favor and avoid looking for them online. You're much better off that way.) But over the past week, I've heard a radio commercial for Magic Mountain that's left me a little perplexed. In it, the offer they make is as follows: buy a one-day pass, and you get the whole year for free AND one free kid's admission.

I'm all for good deals, but there's that line that every deal can cross that moves it over to a different category - the Hmmmm Category. If a restaurant is having a special and their hamburgers (normally $8.99) are only $5.99 for a limited time, that sounds like a good deal. If they were running a special where those same burgers were $0.49, they enter the Hmmmm Category. Why are they so eager to get rid of those, and how good could the quality possibly be at that price? It's why we wouldn't go to a place advertising laser eye surgery for 20 bucks.

A lot of infomercial products straddle this line. They build up the applications of the product so much and slash the price so often, that it starts to seem like a really good deal. Then they say, "Act now, and we'll throw in another one FOR FREE!" Hmmmm, I say, Hmmmm.

The line is a fine one, and I think of it like a value bet in poker. If I know for sure that I have the best hand, I want to bet the highest amount possible that I can get other people to call. If I quickly go all-in, it'll scare people away. However, if I bet too small of an amount, it sends the signal that I'm trying to get people to stay in. Professional poker players know this amount, and I always watch in awe at their accuracy.

Back to Magic Mountain: My thought on that commercial and that deal is that they're showing their hand way too eagerly. It says to me, "We know that hardly any of you will come back enough times to make this worth the $59.99 you're shelling out, so we're trying to make it as appealing as possible." The term used for this is "breakage," and companies love it (and rightfully so). The rebate forms that aren't filled out, the gift cards that are forgotten in a drawer, the "three more times and get one free" card in that same drawer - they all equal more profit for the companies.

So if you're going to Magic Mountain because of that great deal they're offering, you'd better get $60 of enjoyment out of that first trip, because chances are that'll be your only time there in 07. That is, if Magic Mountain's still there - I think Jack Bauer watched it get annihilated last night. Sorry, Valencia.

Christmas recap

At the Klein Christmas Gathering, we have a grab-bag game that we play every year. It's pretty standard, where you can steal from other people or pick a new one from the table, etc. Last Friday, I told my sister-in-law Ilyse as we were saying goodbye that I'd see her on Christmas, and that I'd be #1 in the grab-bag. This was a ridiculous prediction because not only were there going to be 27 other numbers I could pick from the hat, but also because I was #1 two years ago and I think a few years before that too. But that was what I told her, so I also told my mom and a couple others (with a great deal of certainty in my voice, no less).

Still, I was pretty shocked when I pulled out the 1. Ilyse was standing right there when it happened, and she kept trying to figure out how I cheated. Maybe my extreme confidence altered the fabric of history, thereby giving credence to the notion that the mind possesses even more powerful abilities than we realize and that "seers" are just people who have slightly more developed regions of their brains. Or maybe my mom didn't shuffle the pieces of paper enough.

Typically, there are a couple of gifts in the grab bag that are undeniably better than the others. These are the ones that get stolen almost every round and that have people wondering aloud how they fell into the $10-$15 price range. In past years, this has been either a scanner, a mini t.v., or some other pretty cool appliance that my mom used some crazy coupon/rebate combo on to get it into the price range. Other times, it's just something that catches people's fancies, like a cool votive candle holder or a soft blanket. This year, it was...nothing really. Here I was with #1 and no one was afraid to be holding what I would ultimately want. There was a pretty cool tool set, but we have tools already and I didn't want to steal from my Dad unless it was something really cool. In the end, I stole a cute little alarm clock thing that my uncle had previously stolen from my wife. She really liked it, and I felt a little like Jack Bauer as I protected my family. Just a little, don't worry.

So overall, it was cool that I got #1 but would've been cooler if there was an "it" item this year. (Please note that we brought two gifts, and neither were worthy of my #1 either.) It's like I won the NBA lottery a couple of years after Lebron, Carmelo, Wade, and Bosh came out only to find myself choosing between a European project and an American project.

This all got me thinking about numbers though, and I have a lot to say on the subject. I think I'll try to break it into several posts rather than one super-long one, so hang on to your hats and glasses, gentle readers. Happy Boxing Day to all, and to all a good...box, I guess.