Could “list mania” be the marketing secret behind social media?

Let’s do the naughty ones first!

This time of year everyone is making lists: Who’s in and out? What’s hot and not? Winning and losing streaks. Brett Favre. Pop culture is a Petri dish of lists. Given that it’s December, let’s start with the penultimate list: who’s naughty or nice? Forget Santa, it is we who gush over this list. That most of us want to be on the nice list is a given. But yet we are obsessed by the naughty list, aren’t we? For without the naughty there is no line for which to measure the nice.

Judging from all the visitors and comments on my last post I should be making lists 24/7. There I chose my top advertising campaign for 2010: Leo Burnett’s “Mayhem” campaign for Allstate. Many of you liked the choice. Some of you didn’t. It’s terrific work and I stand by it. The point I’d like to make here is that by making a choice I was being provocative. And provocation is part of a writer’s job, is it not?

I’m pretty sure some aspect of list-mania is thriving in most ad copy. If it isn’t the ad probably sucks. I’m damn sure the dynamic is driving social media. Brands covet “followers” and “fans.” They want “likes” and as many as they can get. What is crowd sourcing if it’s not a compilation of choices? And is not Groupon the quintessential aggregator? Mom’s shopping list has been conceptualized and monetized. What about dad’s to-do list? Or junior’s wish list? Herein lies the opportunity.

Entities like Twitter and Groupon do it with aplomb. Advertisers are getting there. Crispin’s “Whopper Sacrifice” for Burger King is a great example: List ten friends you would ding from your Facebook and get a sandwich. There’s no coupon. Nor were they trying to build the brand. “Whopper Sacrifice” provoked people by allowing them to make a naughty list. That’s it.

Bubbling beneath the surface of their infamous Dominoes “Oh yes we did” campaign is a provocation to consumers to list what they hated about bad pizza. That drama is what fires the campaign. Without it the company would just be defending its crappy pizza.

Maybe that’s the big truth about SO-ME. Lists, for lack of a better word, fire us up. Therefore, the big question for all of us in marketing communications is how do we harness this human desire to ‘list’ in order to provoke consumers on behalf of our clients?

Ode to my laptop. More than a delivery system, she is my friend, confidant and co-conspirator.

I have a very special relationship with my laptop computer. For going on 15 years I’ve owned one, almost since Apple began making them. I hooked up with my first at Leo Burnett, where they doled out Macbooks to the copywriters and desktops for the art directors. I still think we writers got the better deal. Back then, few of us actually knew how to use a computer and so Leo Burnett provided mandatory lessons. A saucy blond woman taught me, which, at the time, may have been the biggest motivator to take the class. Like most creative people, I loathed tutorials, even when they were for my own good. Needless to say, I’m glad as hell I went. In retrospect, I should have been first in line.

My machine quickly smote me. You have to realize how exotic these svelte devices were, coming off an IBM Selectric or whatever the hell we’d been using. The IBM machine was swell…like your mother-in-law. Believe it or not, lots of writers still hacked away on manual typewriters or gave their copy to assistants to type. Sounds like ancient history but it isn’t. I’m talking 1996.

No love lost here.

Within a couple years we became inseparable, my laptop and I. Now it’s like we’re married, only without human frailty. She stays up with me at night telling me her secrets. In the morning I run to see what she’s saved for me. I take my laptop everywhere. She is way more than a tool. The Ipad or Iphone might be sexier but they do not seduce me. As a writer, I cannot ply my craft on those devices.

I realize the “life online” idea is nothing new. It’s so 1999. But that’s not what I’m talking about. My relationship with my computer is more involved than what teenagers have with smart phones or executives and their Blackberries. Those people can’t wait to get the new, new version of whatever their using. Me? I get attached to the hardware. I hold on until the bitter end. Though dead, I still have my 2004 G4. The dings on its silver shell are special to me. As is the backstage pass sticker from the 2005 Secret Machines concert I attended at Cabaret Metro.

Even though my new computer rocks, I can’t chuck the old one. I started this blog on that machine. I wrote the final draft of The Happy Soul Industry and Sweet by Design on it. It is also where I wrote my last TV commercial, for Cabot stains. Alas, my G4 died two years ago. Ironically, it now rests under the landline in my office, which I never use anymore either.

I bet many of you (writers especially) would have a hard time voluntarily getting rid of your old laptops if your company didn’t take them from you.

Is it old school to think of technology this way? I don’t know. Musicians fall in love with their instruments. Especially guitarists, right? When you use a machine to create stuff it takes some of the credit; it becomes a part of you. As awesome as the latest flat screen TV is, it’s still only a delivery system and, as such, the newer one is always better.

Goofy “Holiday Heroes” campaign from Radio Shack has super personality.

The Shack wraps on Christmas

My opinion, the best TV holiday ad campaign (linked below) this year is for Radio Shack, by Butler Shine Stern & Partners. The idea is simple. Giving the right gifts can make you a superhero. My favorite executions depict various Christmas morning scenarios, whereby gift givers are transformed into mostly ridiculous super heroes, from a transformer-like robot to a flexing wolf boy. The family dog setting the Yule log ablaze via laser eyes is one of many comedic high points.

It’s not the strategy that impresses; we’ve seen it before, many times. For me it’s the execution of these spots that I appreciate. Like the DirecTV NFL Ticket campaign from Deutsch, the work achieves perfection via simple vignettes, attention to detail, good music and winning characters.

Inspired by popular films like Kickass and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, the superheroes are, as said, ridiculous. They are low on muscles but high on charm. They are laughable caricatures, which makes them and the spots loveable and not just for young hipsters but everyone. No easy feat. Being all-inclusive and funny is almost an oxymoron in today’s bifurcated pop culture. Old and young, gay or straight, minorities; everyone can appreciate these silly personalities.

Better yet, the scheme totally fits the brand image Radio Shack is trying to convey: a simple, small & fun electronics store. Competing with big box retailers like Best Buy and Walmart (let alone Amazon, ABT and others) has to be brutal. Frankly, I’m surprised Radio Shack is still around at all. But I’m glad they are. Not only is the creative entertaining, it also leads me to believe Radio Shack is a viable alternative to the crowded, chaotic and complicated experience of buying electronics anywhere else. Nice job.

View the Radio Shack campaign, courtesy of Adfreak.

In terms of holiday parties in Adland, few came close to Leo Burnett’s. But that doesn’t mean you can’t try!

Getting down with the boss!

One of my all time favorite Homer Simpson lines is when he refers to alcohol as the “cause and solution to all of my problems.” Let Homer’s sagacity serve as fair warning, because it’s time again for that bit of bacchanal known as the office Christmas party. While just about every business has some kind of shindig few do it with such desperate ardor as Adland. After all, we have a reputation to uphold. Everyone knows adfolk like to throw down. Hell, Mad Men devoted an entire episode to it. I think it ended with a drunken secretary mowing over the leg of an agency partner. One can dream, right?

Growing up at Leo Burnett Chicago, I can tell you I’ve seen more than one mother of all office parties. Back in the day, it was typical for the agency to spend several million dollars “producing” the annual celebration. Of course, back in the day we made commercials costing that much. All. The. Time. Ask Joe Pytka. I say produced because that’s the right word. As early as June teams were assigned to the Breakfast. Scripts were written. Storyboards rendered. Talent booked. And whoever was responsible had better do a good job of it. Nothing took priority.

The day started with a posh breakfast for everyone, followed by a 2-hour show, replete with speeches, skits, films and surprises such as the appearance of a celebrity from a current campaign. One time, in a salute to Marlboro, an agency leader rode up to the stage on a horse. This year, I hear Allstate’s “Mayhem Man” might be dropping in…through the roof?

But breakfast was only the beginning. As soon as the curtain fell, everyone rushed back to the office to get bonus checks. That’s right, everyone got a bonus. And I’m not talking about paperweights and tie clips. Most people received a noticeable chunk of their salary. Some more than that. Crazy, huh? Such were the joys of private ownership. You had to be there. Seriously. (BTW, Breakfast Day wasn’t some greedy 80’s scheme. Adman Leo Burnett started it. No bourgeois poofer, Leo busted his ass to succeed and expected all who worked for him to do the same. For the effort you were amply rewarded. That simple.)

After breakfast, you went to your group party for dinner and fellowship. Speeches were given, toasts made, that sort of thing. That night, every good restaurant in town had a group of us in.

Round two was the main event. Everyone converged on one or two of Chicago’s biggest clubs. Here is where the naughty happened. Remember- folks had been drinking since 8 AM and, in addition, were newly rich. It’s a heady brew. In the age of political correctness, our holiday office party was like a “Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free” card in Monopoly.

Nowadays, we scoff at this excess, and we certainly don’t partake in it, at least not to the degree I’ve described. But that doesn’t mean you won’t see the boss making out with a coat check girl, the weeping assistant, or the normally conservative gal from HR, empowered by Jaeger bombs, doing karaoke on top of the bar; in other words all the things that make holiday parties fun.

Obviously, as a reformed drinker I’m more of an observer. While still enjoyable, the last few years I’ve slipped out from my party well before midnight. Tonight I’m not even going. Taking my daughters to their riding lessons in the suburbs. Yee-Ha!

And yes, I’ve written about all this before. (What can I say? I’m attracted to the dark side.) Here’s a favorite post, retelling an office party story my father told me.

GM TV commercial thanks American public for bailing them out but are we buying it?

General Motors is running a remarkable TV commercial dramatizing its near collapse and subsequent rise. It’s an anthem depicting various semi-famous Americans who’ve fallen during the course of their careers and then valiantly gotten back up. For example, we see Evil Kenevil wipe out something fierce and then later in the spot, with help, get up. We also glimpse the dejected frat boys from Animal House (the movie) followed by a piece from John Belushi’s notorious rallying cry. There’s Popeye the Sailor pre and post spinach. Finally, the iconic photo of President Truman holding up the newspaper saying he lost the election. The images are cut to a lovely piano concerto. The lone super reads: We all fall down. Thank you for helping us get back up. (GM. Since 1908)

In terms of emotional filmmaking, it’s a nice piece of work. But is it a good idea? I’m not sure but I do applaud them for owning their failure as a company…sort of. The American taxpayer was obligated to help GM, whether they liked it or not. Billions of dollars. My understanding is that they have since paid us back. But does that give America’s biggest car company the license to thank us? Shouldn’t they have apologized for tripping themselves up at everyone’s expense? Maybe they did. Perhaps the better question is whether we ought to accept this image building campaign for what it is: a token of gratitude.

If the goal was quiet bravery then score. But underneath all that tear-jerking honesty is the legitimate image of arrogant old men ruining a company and lining their pockets in the process.

Apologizing for failure is vogue right now. Look at what Dominoes Pizza is doing. In addition, social media lets brands be blue and true and then LOL. Famous people keep screwing up and asking the public to forgive them. Christ, it’s like our country has become one big confession booth. The cynical takeaway: Forgive us for our sins and get 20 percent off your next purchase.

From what I’ve gathered, General Motors is on the rebound. Good for them. Good for us, too… right?