A recent "dream" I had ~ Can a "festival" be established through newspapers?

Lately, maybe because of my age, my sleep has been light, and I've started having "dreams" quite often.

Since it's the world of "dreams," I should be able to get away with having happy, self-serving "dreams" – like becoming filthy rich or meeting my favorite female celebrity. Yet, I often find myself dreaming about newspapers. I suppose I must be either a very small-minded, timid person or just a newspaper geek.

 

Here's a dream I had recently.

It was during Newspaper Week in the fall. In my dream, a newspaper hoarding campaign was underway. Countless people, mainly young folks, were rushing to buy up every last newspaper left in kiosks, convenience stores, and newspaper stands nationwide (it was a dream, so please forgive the detail).

The reason? Life-sized paper cutouts of members from a certain idol group were being featured daily in those newspapers. What's more, each prefecture's newspaper across the country featured a different member. To put it simply, it was an initiative where all 47 members of this group were being featured as cheerleaders in the newspapers of all 47 prefectures. Naturally, it became a hot topic on TV stations and a major buzz on social media. Above all, fan club members were determined to collect all 47 newspapers—essentially, all 47 posters. This led to situations like fans from Akita Prefecture and Miyazaki Prefecture buying the local papers, contacting each other via social media, and starting to trade them.

Needless to say, this is a fictional scenario. As you may recall, the real world at that time was buzzing with the general election and handshake events of a certain idol group. The mechanism involved purchasing CDs to gain participation rights. Regarding newspaper ads, tailoring creative content to each of Japan's 47 prefectures is a standard practice when using newspaper ads for area marketing. Additionally, last year saw a boom in advertising formats like these life-size poster ads (called Panorama Wide).

Probably, various factors like those I just mentioned lingered in my memory. They somehow connected in a half-baked way, leading me to dream something completely unrealistic. I know that's the case, but when I calmly analyze the dream I had like this, it all just becomes a terribly boring story.

But on the other hand, I sometimes wish newspapers could have their own "festival" day, even if just once a year. A day where special editions are printed at double or triple the usual circulation, yet everyone rushes to buy them all, leaving the streets devoid of newspapers. If such a day existed, wouldn't the newspaper companies (and Dentsu Inc.'s Media Services / Newspaper Division too?) spend the whole day wearing happi coats, setting off fireworks, and drinking celebratory sake? Newspaper Week is nice, but they certainly don't wear happi coats for that, do they?

 

Speaking of festivals, here's another story about a dream I had recently.

Once again, it was autumn during Newspaper Week. In my dream, a party was in full swing at a hotel venue. The main event, the grand raffle, was about to begin. A bow and arrow, like those seen at the year-end jumbo lottery draws, had been brought onto the stage. The female emcee was about to announce the arrow would be released any moment. It seemed to be televised live, as the venue was packed with numerous reporters.

This lottery was like a newspaper ad-based lottery. For just the one week of Newspaper Week, companies ran lottery-style ads in their print pieces. For example, "●● Motors: One Luxury Car," or "▲▲ Foods: A Year's Supply of Rice." They included lottery numbers within the ad copy as part of a reader reward campaign. With various clients all publishing lottery ads in unison, the paper ran a whopping 60 pages daily for this week alone. The final day's edition ballooned to 120 pages, creating an atmosphere that felt like pushing the limits of home delivery. Many readers subscribed specifically for this lottery week, causing circulation to surge dramatically during this period alone (since this is a dream, please forgive me for skipping over tricky details like the Act Against Unjustifiable Premiums and Misleading Representations).

This dream has a little twist at the end.

Finally, the drawings for the "luxury car" and "world cruise" were coming up. But back home, my wife and son were glued to the TV, hoping something would win, with the 500 copies I'd secretly brought home from the office. What if I actually won the "luxury car"? Wouldn't I be accused of "embezzlement"? As I agonized over why I'd done something so foolish, I woke up. I'm just a coward, after all.

Looking at the real world, this lottery-like setup became possible because newspapers can now print a different serial number on each copy. (Of course, being able to print them doesn't automatically mean you can run a lottery.) This spring, a local newspaper ran a project where each copy featured a different bingo game for readers to enjoy. I expect we'll see more of these reader-participation initiatives in the future.

 

In the first dream I shared, I wrote about wishing newspapers could have their own "festival" days. While the reality behind the second dream differs, the underlying desire for something exciting in the world remains much the same. Since newspapers are delivered to homes every day (rain or snow), it would be nice if readers could look forward to receiving them, to opening them. Such an effort doesn't have to be a lottery; it could be something more everyday. Imagine if something delivered regularly to your home each day carried a little "excitement."

As someone involved in newspaper work every day, I worry that even though I love newspapers so much I dream about them, we might not be providing that sense of excitement to the world.

My wish is this: To all the festival lovers across the nation, would anyone consider planning a festival centered around the newspaper? We'll have celebratory sake ready as a prize. We're waiting.