Dear Grandma, It's Time for a Rebrand
Your popularity within the family was unmatched for years. It's time to recapture the magic before it's too late.
I’ve always thought that the holidays are a great time for honest conversations with family members, especially the ones who just haven’t been performing up to standard. So this year, I gave my grandma the gift that she desperately needed: a free consultation on how she can best revive her struggling brand, which has been declining in popularity for years now. My input was brutally honest, but sometimes that’s what tough love looks like. Here’s what I wrote to her. It’s pretty personal stuff, but for those of you who have been thinking about giving someone in your family the gift of honesty, I thought it would be helpful.
Dear Grandma,
I’m gonna be straightforward with you right now, because I have a lot of respect for you. If I didn’t, I’d spend these next few paragraphs beating around the bush, showering you with compliments and sprinkling in a few watered-down “ways to improve” along the way. But I’m not going to do that because I think you deserve to be dealt with honestly. So here goes.
Your brand popularity among family members has been declining for some time now. I expected a slight dip following the 2016 election. I didn’t expect a four-year downturn. But that’s what we’ve got, and it doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. I know this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but soon you’re going to have to make some crucial decisions about how you want these people to perceive you during your final stretch. For the sake of your brand’s longevity and success during what is likely your last decade on the planet, I hope those decisions will be rational.
No, I’m not about to start preaching to you. You and I don’t share the same views on everything, but honestly, I don’t really care about your opinions, even your political ones. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the rest of the crew. The reality is, you’re on increasingly shaky ground with a number of aunts, uncles and cousins. And yes, a lot of it happens to be political.
But this isn’t really about politics. The way I see it, the family might as well accept that your political opinions are just that: your opinions. You’ve said time and time again that they aren’t going to change, and you have followed through on that statement literally every time. I would never ask you to pretend to believe something you don’t, because I wouldn’t waste the energy.
But let’s get real. Everyone’s family image matters, and yours has seen better days. When I was growing up, your popularity was pretty much unmatched among our extended kin. You were the Cool Grandma, the one who let us stay up watching TV until the wee hours and gave us full access to your pantry full of preservative-laden snacks, the likes of which would never have made the cut in our organics-only kitchen at home. At the time, your name carried serious weight with the younger generation, cousins and all.
Your brand visibility faded over the years, but your overall likability held strong. Even as your audience’s interests shifted from Scooby-Doo to College GameDay, you embraced a more behind-the-scenes role and were ready with self-deprecating jokes and those disgusting but for some reason irresistible tangerine gummy rings, which we gladly devoured even though we were old enough to drive. For several years, you thrived as a role player; the brilliant bounce pass here, an open corner three there. So don’t try to blame your decline in ratings on the fact that Cocoa Puffs and SpongeBob SquarePants dropped off the priority list of your target grandchildren in favor of sports, parties and booze. That’s life. We evolve, change, grow. As of now, you don’t seem to be doing any of those things, and it’s costing your personal brand dearly.
And look, I get that you’ve lost control of your image in a lot of ways. My generation is making our way through the world, we’re not loving what we’re finding, and we’ve decided a lot of it is your fault because you’re, well, old. Do I think that’s a completely fair analysis? Of course not. Sure, your generation had your fair share of blunders. Who doesn’t? So I get your frustration with “the kids these days.” But when it comes to your reputation within the tribe, it’s important to remember that your grandchildren are currently spending a lot less time raiding that badass pantry and a lot more time getting to the bottom of things. That just doesn’t bode well for your numbers. And I can’t say I feel all that sorry for you, because it doesn’t even seem like you’re trying anymore.
And let’s be honest: you’re leaning into the stereotype. You started quoting Sean Hannity a lot more frequently once that you realized how much it gets under my sister’s skin. So tone it down a little bit, because I’m onto you. I see you settling into the “Kooky Old Memaw” role so that you can troll the whole family under the guise of mental decline. I know what you’re doing. You might be able to fool them, but you can’t fool me. I don’t look down on you like the rest of them. Like I said, I respect you, so I know when you’re putting on a show. You think this schtick is funny, which, okay, it is. Blurting out the latest “Q Drop” during Uncle Bill’s annual Thanksgiving prayer got some big laughs. But something tells me you wouldn’t have made that moment about the deep state unless you knew that the Thanksgiving prayer is the highlight of Uncle Bill’s year. Yes, I know he voted for Biden. I know you think Uncle Bill is a loser. I can appreciate a good joke as much as anyone. My point is, this isn’t a sustainable approach to improving your ratings over the long haul.
So here’s my advice: start with the little things. Remember all those goofy children’s books we used to read at your house back in the day? Mix a few of those classics into the list of literature recommendations you keep throwing around instead of hawking Mark Levin’s latest audiobook to Aunt Natalie’s kids. We know Hannity calls him “The Great One.” You remind us of that every year. It’s still not a good reason for a 12-year-old mathlete to give a shit, and it’s certainly not going to boost your ratings with him or his sisters, because now he has to listen to you ramble on about Unfreedom of the Press instead of competing in the annual family cornhole tournament. A competition that could win you some much-needed points this year if you play your cards right! Remember our epic badminton games way back when? I know you’re not as spry as you were at the time, but you don’t even have to play. A strong 15 minutes of cheerleading at this year’s tournament would go a long way in rejuvenating your image with the right people. And I mean real cheerleading. No sermons on cornhole as an allegory for certain nations returning to their former glory. We’ve crunched the numbers, and that speech in 2017 did not help you.
I know you can turn this ship around. You’re Cool Grandma, remember? I’m not asking you to change your opinion about Donald Trump. That’s the last thing anyone in our family is expecting anyway. You just need to get back in touch with that Waffles And Cartoons On Saturday Morning Energy. That was the bread and butter of your massively successful brand for years, and it’s not too late to revive it. But the time is now, so start getting creative. I know that’s more difficult when the waffles and cartoons are long gone. I’m sad about that, too. But just like politics, it was never really about the waffles and the cartoons, was it? It was about the vibe, a vibe that you need to recapture if you want to market yourself effectively over the next 5-10 years, because that’s probably all you’ve got left in the tank. Grandma, you understand better than anyone that we’re all at the mercy of time. Make that work to your brand’s advantage, because yours is a brand worth resurrecting. And I couldn’t think of a better time to do it than Christmas.