I don’t remember where I was, but a Sheryl Crow song came
on, All I Want to Do is Have Some Fun, and
it was amazing how instantly I was whisked away to a (a-hem) party that I was
at in High School. I remember how I felt—young,
unconquerable, yet inwardly insecure—I remember details like the front porch at
my friend’s house that had these severely over-grown holly bushes that seemed
to engulf the prime seating area on the porch.
When I hear the Nessun
Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot, I
think of my grandmother. I was her
live-in caretaker when she had entered into the early phases of Alzheimer’s. I remember that song came on in a Best Buy
and I was wearing a big suede coat with puffy fleece lining and recall vividly
singing along to the words in the middle of the home audio section to the
delight to Grams.
When I hear the classic hymn, Be Thou My Vision I remember standing at the alter next to my
(soon-to-be) wife, holding her hand and marveling at the clouds finally parting
from the soggy-wet rainy day and sun beams shining in through the big curtain
glass window in the Bible Chapel where we took our vows.
Music is powerful.
The interesting thing is that it attaches itself to our lives
uniquely. My triggered emotions and
memories connected to a particular song may be very different than your
own. Most likely, you have different
emotions and memories—and most definitely different songs that have so deeply (and
surprisingly randomly) attached themselves to you.
But music is a powerful, and woefully underutilized medium
when it comes to marketing and fundraising.
How might we use music to attach itself to a positive giving
experience? We’ve become programmed to drop whatever it is we are working on to check the newest email that comes in
when we hear that simple little email “chime.”
How might we create a similar sensory experience in the donation process?
Please share your thoughts on this—and some of your music-attached-memories.
