Politics

The current President of the United States, Donald Trump is an idiot and a bully. What is the saying? We reap what we sow. A scary thought. Still, you believe Trump is an aberration that will soon be corrected. You hope. Either way, you know the next President will be flawed too, same as you, same as everyone. Hopefully, he or she won’t be as flawed. Sadly, it’s a low bar. Even you are less marked than this President. Politicians seldom inspire you. Obama did for a while. JFK. When you vote, it has always been for the candidate with least flaws.

After the big tea party, Obama calls for a “Slurpee Summit.”

Brain Freeze!

After his party took a “shellacking” in the mid-term election, a chastened President Obama jokingly offered to host a “Slurpee Summit” with some of his antagonists. Earlier on, Obama had criticized the GOP for sitting back and “drinking Slurpees” while the Dems banged out policy. Humbled, he now resurrected the term to break the ice -so to speak.

Needless to say, 7-11 was ecstatic. With convenience store speed, the ubiquitous retailer seized the moment to create frenzy around their 45-year old brand. They promptly offered to cater Obama’s summit, offering red and blue Slurpees as well as purple ones, which would be the result of mixing the two together. On fire, the marketing department –presumably in conjunction with their ad agency- is launching a campaign emphasizing Slurpees ability to “bring people together.”

There’s no telling how fast and far 7-11 can go with this scheme. Clearly, the concept of a Slurpee Summit has legs, especially with regard to social media. Who wouldn’t “join,” “like” or be a “fan” of a Slurpee Summit? In terms of mass media, USA Today reported that 7-11 is taking out newspaper ads trumpeting the possibility of a summit. Probably in USA Today!

And to all of this buffoonery I say: why not? Of course it’s silly. And I suppose it makes light of the President. But hey, he started it. And whether we drink them or not, who in America doesn’t have a soft spot for this soft served delight? Slurpees are like the 4th of July and firecrackers. Brain freeze is a right of passage. Slurpees are awesome.

In my opinion, these are the things that make our industry a hoot. I can just imagine the light bulb going off over the copywriter’s head (or whomever) when he heard Obama’s crack. And then: “Wouldn’t it be great if…” Those words define what being a creative person is all about. Ah-ha moments, even silly ones like the Slurpee Summit, can happen to anyone at any time. We should embrace them.

Besides, wouldn’t it be something if Obama and his nemesis really did come together over Slurpees? Fallout from the election suggests there’s a lot of anger in our country. The political ads were downright nasty. This is the opposite of that. Good clean fun during challenging times. Make mine a Cherry Coke.

Has our infatuation with “cuteness” gone too far?

Coochie, coochie, coochie, coo!

Cute article in the December issue of Vanity Fair, by Jim Windolf entitled Addicted to Cute. In it, the author discusses the “tsunami of cute” rolling over modern America. “We’re drowning in puppies and kittens and bunnies and cupcakes.”

Try living with three little girls, Jim.

But seriously (if serious is possible in a story like this), the author is on to something. Cuteness has become more than just the providence of young girls and their grandmothers. All one has to do is look at how many immensely popular websites are devoted to cuteness or what the keeper of YouCan’tMakeItUp called “bittersweet sadness and heart-splosioning adorablosity.” She’s talking about a collection of photos featuring small animals in casts. Kittens with leg braces!

Windolf’s essay opens with a discussion about a YouTube video called “Hahaha.” Perhaps you’ve seen it. It’s about a laughing baby. It has over 100 million views. Apparently YouTube officials showed it to Queen Elizabeth when she visited their headquarters in London. She said it was “lovely.” 100 million views? Queen Effen Elizabeth? It’s a laughing baby, folks.

Where all this gets interesting is where you least expect it. Take the phenomena of the Mini Cooper and the Smart Car. These adorable vehicles come off the assembly line smiling and America can’t get enough of them. Low gas milage? Sure. But it’s their unabashedly cute aesthetic that is driving sales.

And speaking of cars, Wildoff points to the GEICKO Gecko as a commercial manifestation of the cuteness pandemic. Over the years the popular spokes-creature has evolved from skanky reptile to adorable critter. His color has been warmed, his scales diminished and his eyes widened. Bigger eyes are a surefire marker of cuteness. Just ask the Japanese. Hello Kitty!

Finally, consider our President, Barak Obama. That smile. That gleam in his eye. All that hope! Could the guy be any cuter? Yes he could. By adding the perfect American family, right down to a dog named “Bo.” Let’s face it: the edgiest thing about our President is his skin color. Obama is the Commander in Chief of Cuteness.

So, what is up? Is cuteness backlash to the crippling financial crisis? Lord knows that’s been depressing. Is cute the antidote? Can puppies and cupcakes take our frazzled minds off staggering unemployment and underwater mortgages? Do laughing babies and big-eyed lizards placate the unemployed? Obama’s been in the Oval Office a full year. If nothing else, Cash for Clunkers was a cute idea. Public Health Care not so much.

Whether cuteness is spoiling our country or merely distracting it, we can hardly avoid its presence. Or can we? I recommend a good zombie movie. Try Dawn of the Dead, the original or remake. Of course zombies are my answer for everything.

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The Happy Soul Industry

Britney, Buicks and Blago. Not to mention a bankrupt client. Those, my friends, are things that suck.

And so we come to the end. Last Friday Circuit City stopped breathing, bellied up. Everyone saw it coming but still. They’re one of our clients. Correction. They were one of our clients. Short-circuited now. Finished. And just weeks before the demise of analog TV. Ironic, huh? My agency more or less planned for this. We will make out. But what about the 40.000 Circuit City employees?

I know. We’re in a Recession. Maybe only the beginning of one. In the immortal words of Cheech and Chong, things are tough all over. Maybe so but if my foul mood needs a reason the “R” word about covers it. That and below zero temperatures.

Obama’s inauguration should cheer but right now I need to shed some hate. It’s my blog and I’ll cry if I want to. First up, Rod Blagojevich. And not just because he’s a cheat and a liar. We’ve seen those before. It’s his childish defiance and denial. When he quoted Rudyard Kipling in his defense I wanted to punch him in front of his children. Other reasons to loathe him are that bad, football-coach hair and his jerk-ass name. Who names their kid Rod? And here’s a tip. Given the whole world perceives you as a felon do you think it’s wise wearing all black all the time, and a tracksuit no less? You look like the cartoon criminal you undoubtedly are. Stand down, jerk!

Pop music sucks. I can’t think of an effen song younger than my daughter that’s worth 99 cents on I-tunes. Beyonce. Britney. Justin. Every single American Idle contestant. Who are these people? Sex pots with a good shower voice, that’s who. And that’s it. I guarantee no one will ever listen to any of this music five years from now, let alone remember its practitioners. Rock acts like the Fray, Maroon Five and Fallout Boy are so boring I can’t even drum up hatred. Must we rely on warhorses like U2 and REM for quality music?

And can we give the harmonic synthesizers a rest? You know what I’m talking about: that cheesy special effect singer’s use on their vocals. It’s not that I don’t understand the words it’s that the words sound awful. It was lame when Peter Frampton did it a million years ago. Enough. You sound like you’re singing through a kazoo.

There is nothing “real” about reality TV. Hello! There are cameras in the room. It is pro wrestling for girls, gay men and bored housewives. How anyone can relate to assorted booby housewives and has-beens is beyond me. This sort of programming has a slimy My Space veneer. I get why people like it. I just don’t like that people get it. And the shows that pretend a moral conscience? Whether rehabbing houses or junkies, the mock sincerity grates. I suppose some reality programming has conceptual value. Following around crab fisherman in the North Atlantic teaches us about hardship. Thankfully, there are no booty calls. Least liked of the lot: The Bachelor. How can any of these women (and men) look into the camera and claim they are looking for true love? Have any of them no shame? They want fame. Unfortunately, admitting it would diminish the program’s already paltry veneer.

The American auto industry deserves its miserable fate. The combustible fuel engine is so hopelessly last century. It was invented at the turn of the 19th! In less than 20 years we went from calculators and typewriters to computing. In the same span, we evolved music from vinyl to digital. What are cars doing burning fossil fuel? Not only does it pollute the air and cost a fortune; it’s running out! This view has nothing to do with my politics and everything to do with evolving technology and world reality. Besides, there are too many carmakers and too many car lines. If Chrysler went away, other than the loss of jobs, would anybody miss it? The same can be said for Buick. Maybe even Ford.

Finally, I’d like to return serve on all the haters hating big advertising agencies for being…big advertising agencies. Listen. When I started out I wanted to work only for a big advertising agency. I wanted to work on big brands and work with big people. I had big ideas. And I wanted to come up with many more. Of course I wanted the big office one day. That’s the American Dream, isn’t it? Those who don’t make it don’t for many reasons, some fair and some not. Blaming a big agency for personal failure is a cop out. Hating successful people for their success (in good times and bad) is hypocritical.
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Okay, I’m better now. In honor of Martin Luther King’s birthday I’m ready to practice acceptance and tolerance. But first lets put Blago in a Buick and push him off a cliff!

Obama was destined to become our President. But it took an email from my father to convince me.

Well, it happened. An old, white man lost to a young, black man. Many people, especially those of a certain age, those who remember Jim Crow, would have never thought to see this day. Frankly, I never thought I’d see this day. Well, it happened.

Maybe the various fictional black presidents on TV were not so ahead of their time. The truth caught up with fiction. There are myriad reasons why. Probably one of the biggest was just how bad the previous regime had fared. The Republicans are undoubtedly paying for the many sins of George Bush. And rightly so. “W” was and is an out and out disaster. Even if McCain were nothing like the President, he was more so than Obama.

While Obama was roundly (and somewhat rightfully) criticized as being untested and inexperienced, the tested and experienced had, arguably, stunk up the White House worse than any governing body in US history. Bush likes to say history will judge him kindly. Nixon said the same thing. Didn’t happen.

Our economy has nosedived, with no recovery in sight. Our deficit is at an all-time high, worsening by the day. The war in Iraq is Viet Nam II. And so on. Couple these “facts” with Obama’s staggering campaign budget and you get a landslide. An unstoppable force for change.

Undecided less than a month ago, the above events are not what turned me to Obama. Rather the change took place in one morning, upon the receipt of an email from my father. He had just returned from a long and lovely vacation to Europe. He’d stayed at the best hotels, ate the finest foods and, in short, enjoyed the sort of high-end vacation a man of his means is entitled to. But it was not any of this that he spoke of in his email. Instead he wrote, “personal reservations aside, if we don’t elect Barack Obama as President ‘brand USA’ is in deep, deep trouble. We will be lost to the world.”

“We will be lost to the world.”

My father is roughly John McCain’s age. He makes serious money –well above the 250k that will most definitely be taxed higher under Obama. Equally important, my father made all of his money the old-fashioned way: he earned it. That he was so forthright in his advocacy of Obama was not to be taken lightly.

And I didn’t. The USA has always been a light in the world. And it was in danger of going out. Without even baring witness to the debates, the SNL caricatures, any of the campaigns in America, my father saw and heard all he needed to… in another country. And it was enough.

Given this is an advertising blog, I’ll end on an advertising note. The existing long-running campaign for America had failed. It needed to be scrapped. If Obama is all hope and charisma, so be it. We need both.