(1) Misplaced Patriotism. By now we've all come to accept a certain degree of Sept. 11 references in commercial messages, although hopefully done tastefully and indirectly. But there exists a vast gulf between the flag and "God Bless America" on say a pizza box, and a cemetery flogging the need to "Honor Their Precious Lives." All this does is remind the public that one of the few industries to benefit from 9/11 was the funeral industry. "Woodlawn: the next time someone blows up a skyscraper with your loved ones in it, think of us!".

(2) The D-Word. This brochure chases after the aspirational middle class, sinks its teeth in like a rabid, paper Pit Bull, and refuses to let go. What could be better than the combination of discounts and priority positioning? You can save money arranging to stash Uncle Morty away in the Garden Conservatory, and assure that he's prominently located in the third row center of the Halcyon Alcove. Perish the thought that he might be stuck in some non-priority postion should you wait too long to call.

(3) The Mall-soleum. Okay, this criticism isn't so much of marketing as of architecture. It's not every day you're invited to spend eternity mouldering away in a suburban mall, but that's apparently Woodlawn's proposition to you. More commentary on this (and images) to come. For now: couldn't someone have found an artists' rendering that looked even a little less mall-like?

(4) The Apology. "If this mailing has reached you in a time of illness or sorrow, please accept our apologies as this was not our intention." Come on! Woodlawn sent this to every home or apartment in a good ZIP code in the entire New York area! What did they intend--to magically skip over everyone who's just had a death in the family? They're the ones most likely become immediate customers, aren't they? Simple rule of thumb: never apologize for delivering an ad. A much more sincere message would have simply said, "...please accept our deepest sympathy."