Synonymity

"Do you have any chapstick?"

"Put it on a post-it for me."

"Will you TiVo my program?"

"I need a band-aid."

"Google it."

Five phrases that you may utter on any given day. What do you mean when you say them?

These are examples of incredible branding. Chap Stick is not the only lip moisturizer in a tube, Post-it does not manufacture all the sticky notes in the world, TiVo is not the only way to record a TV show, Band-Aid is not the sole distributor of adhesive-backed bandages, and Google is not the only search engine on the web. So why do we insert the brand names in place of the item in question, or, in the cases of Google and TiVo, use a brand name as a verb?

Some brand names are so well advertised that they become synonymous with the items or services they sell. This is the ultimate, sublime goal of every facet of marketing: to be so ubiquitous that your name can replace nouns (or verbs). 

Do you have any lip balm? Put it on a sticky note. Can you record my program? I need a bandage. Do an online search.

So, business owners, if you believe you can get by without a logo or tagline; if you think hiring design and marketing professionals to brand your company is an unnecessary expense; if you forego advertising and good design to save a few bucks: you should reconsider your budgetary priorities. Unless you aren't interested in growing or being successful. If that's the case, you're already on the right track.

-AJ

This blog entry brought to you in HD (where available)

Just as the seasons come and go, there are seasons to marketing catch words. Remember when everything was extreme? And then do you remember when everything became Xtreme? We had Xtreme Ranch flavored tortilla chips, Xtreme soft drinks, Xtreme scooters, Xtreme lash-lengthening mascara, Xtreme pizza, and Xtreme cleaning products.

Thankfully, the annoyingly misspelled "xtreme" catch word is fading from popularity in advertising. Tragically, it is being replaced by irrelevant terms derived from the latest-and-greatest in electronics: HD and 3D. 

One industry that is leading the way in abusing HD and 3D is the tanning industry. Did you know you can now get an HD tan? Do you even know what that is? It is a sunless tanning technique that has been around for years (often called Mystic Tan), where you stand in a telephone booth and get sprayed all over by automated car wash equipment loaded with your perfect shade of beige. The sunless tan is now available in HD. It is unclear what the difference is, but if we take a cue from the electronics industry, we can assume that a sunless HD tan is more appropriate for large flat-screen viewing and is probably also in widescreen format.

3D tanning is also at the leading edge of the industry. This latest innovation begs the question: what is 2D tanning? Isn't all tanning 3D? Can we be given an example of tanning utilizing only the x and y vertices? Some establishments are now touting 4D tanning, which is a great investment if you are willing to travel through time to get that perfect glow.

Entitled "Stop the Presses!" or "When the Sh*t Hits the Fan"

(Note: this entry was written Friday, May 6th)

First, let's all take a breath.

My fellow MT-ers, pop open a cold one and become one with the couch in a perfect communion of body and sofa. Let your thoughts drift away from the hectic week that has just reached its conclusion, a week of small triumphs and large disappointments. Let us forget that this week, the press and our usually indomitable spirits were broken.

In one month, Market Treasury has doubled its staff, despite the unfortunate necessity of releasing two former employees back into the wild to rejoin whatever clan of lunatics from whence they came. They left in their maniacal wake a trail of destruction, the magnitude of which was not immediately apparent until the rest of us were swept up by a towering wave of crap. Since then, we have been picking up the pieces, making amends as best we can when needed and continuing to raise the bar for excellence despite the best efforts of the lunatics to use the bar as a stripper pole--but that's another story.

This week, we were excited to get back in step with our valued clients, especially since the May issue will unveil an elegant new look. Everything seemed to be going our way. The art department was in near constant contact with advertisers, using an awesome online proofing system, which ended up causing more confusion when it became obnoxious and demanding, sending out redundant proofs, insisting upon receiving a response from clients regarding old proofs, new proofs, red proofs, blue proofs. It seemed to take on a life of its own, somehow attaching an evil laugh to every email notification our poor advertisers were sent. It became uncontrollable, devouring internet servers across the land, cramming email inboxes with terse messages about deadlines and decisions. Eventually we managed to disable it with a powerful sedative and deleted the ad proofs while it was lying on the floor, stunned and inert. Rest assured we will keep it chained up and under constant guard in the future.

Despite the chaos, we were ready to send our publication to press by deadline, exhausted yet elated by scratching success out of that skinny little void between rock and hard place. Our designs were approved, our document was built, and we were ready to celebrate or at least go home at a decent hour, when the unthinkable happened.

The printer broke.

It wouldn't be a big deal if it was just the office printer and we were simply printing a big stack of envelopes or perhaps the guidelines to calling shotgun in a vehicle (rule 1: You must be within sight of the vehicle before you can shout shotgun or risk disqualification). However, a slick publication like ours must be sent to a professional press in Denver, where it is printed, bound and then handed over to the post office to land in a mailbox near you. So when the printing company suffered a casualty this week and lost one of its huge presses, we feared all was lost, as there are only two companies in the entire state of Colorado with the capacity to produce our magazine, and just as a woman returns to the same hairdresser every time, most publications are loyal to their presses.

The situation looked bleak. It was starting to look as if our magazine would not be in homes for weeks. The mood in the office changed. Though we were more busy than ever, we looked at each other with hopelessness in our eyes and fear in our hearts, the promise of a stiff drink after hours the only light we could see at the end of the tunnel when it wasn't the headlamp of an oncoming train.

And then, something wonderful happened. It was not on par with a miracle or even getting your entree for free when the hostess accidentally loses your dinner reservation, but we were grateful anyway. Only a day after deadline, the press gave us the green light to upload our document, even though we aren't quite as important as some multi-million dollar accounts they serve. Close, but not quite. It is now up to them to work overtime, maybe even as hard as we worked this week, to get our magazine into homes on time. And meanwhile, we're going to relax and recuperate this weekend. Then we'll start the madness all over on Monday.

So to all of our clients, thank you for your patience this week. It has been an emotional roller coaster, and we appreciate your company on the ride, especially if you happen to have barf bags on you.

-AJ

Good Singers Suck at Karaoke

I've been to many a karaoke bar in my time. My favorite karaoke songs are "Happy Together" by The Turtles, "If I Had a Million Dollars" by Bare Naked Ladies, and yes, "American Pie" by Don Mclean. I don't care if it's a long freaking song. Everyone knows the chorus, and everyone joins in at the part where we take the Chevy to the levy and the levy is dry. That's what makes it a great song for karaoke. We can't forget "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen, the greatest song ever written by anyone, anywhere, anytime, and destined to be recorded in the annals of history as the anthem of a generation, and then another generation, and another, and another, its popularity timeless because it's just that awesome.

Karaoke is meant to be performed by bad singers. It's the only outlet crappy singers have for their intense need to assault the eardrums of a captive audience. And the fact that most karaoke is performed in bars indicates that karaoke was invented to allow people with no vocal talent to amuse drunken bar patrons. Admit it--you love it when an uptight soccer mom gets sloshed at her daughter's friend's bachelorette party and awkwardly belts out the lyrics to a girl-power Cyndi Lauper tune during happy hour. Karaoke is about stage presence, entertainment and self-humiliation. This is not the Cleveland Opera House, people. You're here to have fun.

But then there are the good singers, the people with serious vocal talent. They never want to sing a song we all know because anyone can sing those songs, and it doesn't matter how far off key you are, because the song itself is enough to entertain, and an amateur performance is part of the charm. Much like the phenomenon of hundreds of random people spontaneously chanting "AIR....BALL..." at a basketball game perfectly in sync, we can all sing those songs because we love them. We sing them in the car while we sit in traffic, we sing them in the shower, we sing them in our heads when we're wandering aimlessly around the grocery store. Good singers never want to sing those songs. Instead, they sing ballads, or songs with incredible vocal range, just because they can and you can't.

Here's the problem with singing a ballad: You're in a bar. Know your audience (in the way that a good marketing company such as Market Treasury knows your audience and appeals directly to them). We want loud, catchy songs with simplistic lyrics or universally recognized choruses. Don't make us suffer through Carrie Underwood, no matter how closely your vocal talent rivals hers. Country music is barely tolerable as it is (not to me, but I'm told some people tolerate the genre). Don't make us sit through a slow, complex song unless you've already bought a round--or several--for everyone. You'd better get me sloshed before you make me sit through anything by Josh Groban or Seal unless you want to be pelted by cheese fries.

So to recap, "Bohemian Rhapsody" is always a crowd-pleaser, Carrie Underwood has no business in a bar, and good singers have an annoying habit of spoiling the karaoke experience.

And to answer your question, I'm a bad singer, but I'm awesome at karaoke.

-AJ

The Extraordinary and Perhaps Entirely Fictional History of Duct Tape

Many great inventions have been invented by great inventors throughout history. There is fire, making its first appearance during the age when the earth was a big ball of molten lava, and experiencing a resurgence in popularity sometime during the Ice Ages. There is the wheel, invented by the great thinker Fred Flintstone, though there is some debate among scholars that he stole the original blueprints from his best friend and idiot-savant Barney Rubble. Some folk speculate that Velcro was the greatest adhesive to ever benefit mankind, but I disagree. That title belongs to duct tape.

Let us begin by making the important distinction that it's duct tape, not duck tape. Ducks have very little use for cloth-backed adherents, though some have been observed to apply the tape to their feet as make-shift galoshes. Ducts, however, are often seen sporting the fibrous material. Scientists have speculated that ducts in their natural environment would use the tape as clothing, both basic and haute couture, but this cannot be verified as ducts have only been observed in areas populated by humans due to suburban sprawl overtaking their habitats.

Duct tape was discovered by Christopher Columbus in the fifteenth century, shortly after embarking on a vacation cruise to the Sandals resort in India. His ship, the Princess Cruise Santa Maria, had been built with a serious engineering flaw that caused all the knots in the planks to pop out whenever the ship turned left. Finding the bottom of the ship leaking like a sieve, Columbus docked in the first tourist city he came across, which happened to be Athens during the Olympics. The crew of his ship was puzzled by his decision to navigate the huge vessel across hundreds of miles of land, but Columbus was able to score tickets for awesome seats in the Colosseum and backstage passes to the after party, so the crew let it slide.

Several days of debauchery later, Columbus was dismayed to learn that his across-land voyage had caused serious damage to the part of the ship that goes in the water. He had spent all the funds given to him by the Queen of Spain on tickets to the Olympics and cover charges at the local dance clubs, leaving no money left for repairs.

Unwilling to admit defeat and return to Spain without any souvenir magnets from India, Columbus searched the land for cheap materials to patch the Princess Santa Maria. Finding none, he appealed to the gods on Mount Olympus to either deliver a miracle to repair the ship or to deliver a lawyer who could get him out of his contract with Spain.

The gods responded by causing a Home Depot to appear unto Columbus, replete with helpful Grecians clad in orange vests, beckoning him to aisle 7, thereafter known as the Aisle of Tape. Archaeologists have determined that the site of the heavenly Home Depot came to be known as the Acropolis. Columbus eagerly heeded the advice of the vested Grecians, repaired his ship with the silvery fabric, and resumed his voyage to India, finding many more uses for the tape including using it to stick his compass to the dashboard. However, he failed to notice that he had taped it upside down, so he headed west instead of east, and never reached the Sandals resort in India. So instead of relaxing on a beautiful beach with a pina colada, the passengers aboard the Princess Santa Maria found themselves at some barren place called Plymouth Rock, where they had to build their own guest cabins.

And this concludes your history lesson on duct tape as well as a brilliant example of how a mundane object of everyday life can be marketed to medieval ship builders.

-AJ

Ironic, isn't it?

It's been said by people who say such things that the word "irony" is the most misused word in the English language. So to help clarify for the linguistically impaired, here are some examples of irony.

Alanis Morisette's song "Isn't It Ironic" from the sensational album Jagged Little Pill:
The lyrics of this once-ubiquitous girl power anthem include such gems as "It's like rain on your wedding day / It's a free ride when you've already paid / It's some good advice that you just didn't take / And who would have thought? It figgers..." Clearly, these are not ironic situations. Rain on your wedding day? Don't get married in spring, moron. Free ride when you've already paid? Check the bus schedule for Free Tuesday deals before you mindlessly dump your tokens into that coin slot. Good advice that you just didn't take? Maybe you should listen to that oracle next time. Who would have thought?

I submit to you that this song is a sublime example of irony. None of the situations described in the song are ironic. They are merely unfortunate or at best the kind of things you secretly wish would happen to that annoying teller at the bank who seems to bathe in Elizabeth Taylor's White Diamonds cologne. May she rest in peace, but for God's sake let's bury that perfume recipe in the deepest hole in the earth.

So the irony in Alanis Morisette's song is that there is nothing at all ironic about the things she claims are ironic. Either she is a clever lyricist or her record label figgered most Americans don't know the meaning of the word irony either. If anyone knows her personally, ask her. I bet she claims it was on purpose, like she knew it all along.

Here is an example of irony. Little Timmy falls down a well, and Lassie runs to the farmhouse to alert the family of the crisis by barking her head off as usual. A visiting veterinarian, fluent in canine linguistics, is able to translate Lassie's message. "Oh no! Jiggling whinny is calling from hell!" he relays to the horrified household. The family rushes to find the apparently open mouth of Hell that has swallowed their obese horse. Meanwhile, Timmy languishes at the bottom of the pit, because it turns out Lassie has a speech impediment.

-AJ

Yes, you CAN use sandpaper as an exfoliant.

Are you tired of spending your life savings on expensive lotions, miracle creams, exfoliants, and Ped Eggs in a vain attempt to scrub away years of sun damage, rebellious skin flakes, or even those pesky upper-lip hairs? Finally, there is an affordable, effective solution, available at a hardware store near you.

That's right; it's sandpaper.

I recommend using a fine grit paper, 600 grade and up, similar in texture to a nail file or very smooth concrete. Head outside and rub your face on polished concrete to get a good handle on how it should feel. Stick to the sidewalks and avoid the urge to rub your face in the street. Now that you have a baseline comparison for texture, hit up the nearest Home Depot and peruse the sandpaper aisle to find that perfect beauty fix. You should not be able to see the grains in the paper without squinting really hard. If the paper looks like the rocky coastline of Washington state, it is too rough and may peel off your skin like a banana. A messy, gross banana with skin flaps hanging off of it. So choose wisely.

After you have selected the appropriate paper (and purchased it), rub gently over the skin with a smooth, circular motion. There is no need to put elbow grease into it unless you have some serious flaking going on. DO NOT scrub. You are exfoliating your skin, not cleaning a prison lavatory. Bleeding is not the desired effect and may indicate you have made a poor decision in sandpaper selection. Cease exfoliation immediately and get off the nice white carpet.

There you have it: a way to market industrial products in the skincare industry. Wow, we're good. And smooth.

-AJ