Mascots for Hire.

There are many things in this world that I do not understand. Many large or abstract or philosophical concepts or behaviors seem to elude my comprehension. There are also several things that I feel I should be able to understand, yet cannot. One of these things is the idea of people dressing up in animal suits.

This topic is actually a bit more broad than you would think. And you might think I'm about to start writing about Furries. But I'm not. That is a bullet I intend to avoid. And, by the way, if you don't know what a Furry is search for "furries" in Wikipedia and Google Images. Make sure your children (or parents for that matter) aren't in the room. It's pretty creepy.

Okay, back on track. Really what confounds me is the idea that taking an employee and dressing them up as an animal (or other creature) is a legitimate method for boosting revenue. Every time I see a Blue Dog advertising a bank or a Ridiculous Italian Stereotype outside of a pizzeria, I can't help but get struck with a combination of fear and bewilderment. Maybe partly this is because I have always fostered a hearty fear of costumed beings. I never recall enjoying sitting on Santa's lap or getting photographed with the characters at Disney World. Whatever seems to attract people to these characters seems to be the ingredient which repels me.

I started thinking about this last weekend while sitting on the Megabus waiting to go back to Chicago. Our bus was stopped on the corner of High Street and 12th (I believe) for several minutes while our bus driver was trying to determine his route through campus. It was move-in day for all those little Buckeyes who will soon be either bathing in Scarlet & Gray or sitting in dorm rooms or coffee shops holding a small degree of contempt for those who do. Many different organizations and companies had tents or tables out on High Street for promotional purposes. Right outside where my Megabus was stopped was a tent for Chase Bank. There were two guys throwing a frisbee and--of course--someone dressed up as a blue dog with the Chase logo hanging around his neck as Corporate Bling.

The job of Chase Dog (as I will refer to him) was to pace around and wave at everyone on the road or walking down the sidewalk. This seems to be the standard method for these mascots. And one that I've never understood. I don't understand how having someone dressed up like Little Caesar standing on the side of a busy road waving at cars is going to generate more business than a huge sign that says "CHEAP PIZZA!" The first emotion that emerges from seeing these mascots is pity. Pity for that poor soul who has to stand outside for hours performing the same gestures in often imperfect weather while wearing a ridiculous costume.

But this time I was able to observe Chase Dog for much longer than the few seconds I usually observe mascots. And after the Wave of Pity and the subsequent Wave of Fear passed by I was struck with the Third Wave: The Wave of Amusement. Chase Dog became quite the center of attention. Once people started walking by, Chase Dog was no longer aimlessly waving and pacing around, but constantly high-fiving passersby. As soon as he raised his hand in anticipation, people seems to walk out of their way to slap five with a person covered completely in blue and white fabric. Awkward freshman, upperclassmen, parents, and exchange students alike had brief but positive interactions with Chase Dog. Even though in reality it was a somewhat commonplace and simple interaction that I witnessed, it would be rather difficult for one's heart to not be warmed by this site. Several other passengers on this bus were also amused to the point of taking photographs.

What is it that fascinates us about dressing people up as mascots? Why is it that I'm generally adverse to them?