You’re flipping through a magazine and a half-page ad for TriCare Hayville Retirement Community catches your eye.
On the left there’s a photograph of a sad old man sitting on a park bench, holding a slice of white bread. He’s reading a book. He looks forlorn and unmarried.
There’s a small plate on the outdoor table in front of him with a half-eaten slice of white bread and a butter knife. It looks like the kind of spongy bread that’s sold in plastic bags in supermarkets.
The headline over the photograph reads ‘Embrace an amazing retirement lifestyle’. You look over the photograph again and it doesn’t look very amazing. It looks dull and depressing. Why is he holding a slice of white bread when there’s a half-eaten slice on the plate? Does he have Alzheimer’s? Dementia? Is this the daily meal?
There are three colored circles overlapping the photograph with various pricepoints for 1, 2, 3 bedroom units - $320,000*, $395,000*, $500,000*. The asterisk means the pricing is subject to availability. Which is a polite way to say subject to someone dying.
There’s also a photograph of an empty living room in one of the units. It looks odd, out of proportion. And decorated like a doctor’s waiting room. Do all the living rooms look this sterile?
Some perfunctory copy under the photograph promises community support and great onsite amenities. It assures you that you can live the lifestyle you choose. This seems an odd promise to make because unless you’re dead, you always live the lifestyle you choose.
There’s a purple strip under the ad with a phone number, website address and the TriCare logo.
TriCare? It’s such a strange name for a developer of retirement living and residential aged care facilities.
It looks like the name of a triathlon sports store. Or a plumbing supply firm. Or a chemical company.
It sounds very off-putting when they answer the phone. Like they don’t really care, they just try to care.
Maybe they should try and come up with a better name.