Red Rose Tea figurines - the gateway to a life of crime and collecting

Steal me! From Canadianpickers.com. 

Tea is a gateway drug. 

When I think back to what made me a collector of action figures, records, books, and assorted crap today, I can only blame one thing: Red Rose Tea figurines. 

Back in the 60s, 70s, and 80s these figurines (see hedgehog, above) came packed in every box of Red Rose Tea, one per box of 100 (or was it a million?) tea bags. So, as a kid, it was your task to drink as much caffeine as possible in order to "collect the whole set."

Red Rose Tea has a helpful history of the figurines on its website, in which we find out that they're from George Wade Pottery in Burslem, England, which first produced them for Red Rose Tea in 1967 (the year of the Lord, it being my birth year), and that they're actually called "Whimsies." How whimsical.

Also:

"Nearly all Red Rose Figurines, with the exception of the very first, have one significant feature: fine moulded parallel ridges on the underside of the base. It now seems to have become a "trademark" for all Wade "Whimsies" to follow, making them remarkable Red Rose collectibles." 

Whatever. All I cared about was getting all of them - a perfect example of sales driven by sales promotions, in this case a premium ("something free"). Kids are particularly susceptible to premiums, hence the free, plastic toy in the box of Frosted Flakes and the non-edible parts of the Happy Meal. Oh, yeah, that would be all of it. You get the idea.

I developed a serious tea habit. Before I knew it, I was hanging out at seedy, all-night tea dens, snorting tea powder off of the nostril-sized figurines, and waking up naked and confused next to zoo miniatures.

Even worse, on a neighborhood visit with my mother to her friend's place, I was so shocked to find she possessed one of the figurines I'd been looking for, I pocketed it. When I got home, the caffeine wore off and my conscience caught up with me. I admitted to my mother that I'd stolen the figurine, in the way that most five-year-old kids admit anything:

"Hey, mom, looked what fell into my pocket!" 

My mother, horrified at what I'd become, made me go back to her friend's place and apologize. To my surprise, the friend said, "Oh, that's OK: you can have it." So, I took it back home and gave it a place of prominence in my Whimsies display.

From that moment on, every time I looked at my figurines display, I remembered a valuable lesson: crime pays. Thanks, Red Rose Tea!

Best new products of 2012: apply hand directly to forehead

How to improve bad customer service - on ShowMe

I'll ShowYou, bad customer service!

I've been testing ShowMe - an awesome iPad app and website that lets you screencast (teach!) or watch screencasting (learn) for educational, entertaining, and inspiring presentations. Like mine!

In this ShowMe presentation, I come back to one of my favorite topics - how to improve bad customer service at the drugstore and beyond.

I've somehow resisted the urge to name the worst offender in the screencast, but you and I both know it's _ _ _ _ _ _  _ _ _ _. Hint: the customer service is the minus in the plus.

I'm quite certain that this isn't what Bob Dylan had in mind when he sang, "The first one now will later be last..." but you can ask him when he plays Winnipeg in the fall.

I'm in the mood for mood boards

Magazines? Check. Glue sticks? Check. X-Acto Knives? Check.

Let's fight!

One of my favorite classes of the year is the one in which the ad majors return to grade three arts and crafts to create mood boards.

The occasion: getting set up for this semester's advertising client, C3A and its Ultimate Events Calendar - found on channel 88 of MTS Ultimate TV Service.

A mood board is a visual representation of a brand. It can be the creative springboard on which your campaign is based, or you can use it to present and sell your ideas to your clients, who also love mood boards, because they love grade three art class too.

The mood board is a collage on a foam core board. It encompasses symbols, feelings, moods, relationships, textures, ideas, colors, palettes, words, brands, logos, design, architecture, celebrities, and style.

But a mood board is more than the sum of its parts. The process of cutting, sorting, sticking, and pasting takes the creative mind on a journey down a path of discovery that may not be apparent until the board is actually complete.

Then, you take a step back, let the visuals wash over you, discuss what you see, and the ad-campaign concept, theme, and color palette begin to gel in your head (head gel?).

Sometimes the mood board gives you the flash of creative inspiration that will ultimately become your campaign's big idea.

So: gaze into the mood boards. You are getting sleepy. Now write, old woman, write like the wind!

The Winnipeg Jets and the skyboxification of your wallet

 Go Jet$ go!

When the Winnipeg Jets sold out 1,000 corporate tickets, 13,000 season tickets, and 8,000 spots on a waiting list for more (for $50 non-refundable fee), you can bet the marketers were watching and learning.

(The first lesson of semester one advertising: "the marketers always win.") 

Sure, the marketers were "happy." But they were also kicking themselves, because they could have charged more for everything, extended the "membership agreements" long past three, four, and five years, and still been unable to fill the insatiable demand.

(The second lesson of semester one advertising: "Low supply + high demand = ka-ching, ka-ching.")

Weeks later, the Bombers sold 17,000 season tickets in preparation for the team's move to its fancy, new digs at the University of Manitoba - and you can bet the ticket prices and long-term lease agreements will go along with them.

Can the Goldeyes be far behind?

Into the Wild

I realized that the days of sports as low-cost entertainment for the family were gone when - in the long winter of our Jetsless discontent - I drove to St. Paul two or three times to see the Wild. 

The tickets were strangely expensive. The seats were strangely comfy. The spectators were strangely well-groomed and "rich-looking" - under their jerseys, they wore shirts, ties, and Cosby-style sweaters. Their kids had expensive haircuts.

They'd also hidden away the hot-dog stand to make room for a chef carving a big slab of prime rib and serving it up on a real plate. 

I knew that if and when the Jets returned, they would come along with air-conditioned corporate suites and skyboxes far above the "cheap seats," which would actually be expensive seats. And with them would come a whole, new era of entertainment pricing strategies.

Cash: the final frontier

I once saw Green Day play Le Rendez-Vous for $10 - which explains why 15 years later, I can't justify paying $200 to see William Shatner on a speaking tour.

As a guy with 8,000 CDs and 1,000 ticket stubs, I can say I've never been shy about dropping large chunks of disposable income on entertainment - but that's just under $1,000 for a family of four to see T.J. Hooker. 

It's hard to believe that in the movie Festival Express, about the 1970 train tour across Canada by some of the most popular musicians of the day, the then-mayor of Calgary openly called for the tour promoter to open the gates and "let the kids in for free."

The ticket price to see Janis Joplin et al. in 1970? $10 at the gate and $9 in advance.

How much longer until we have a "presale password concert club" for $100 (non-refundable, of course) a year? Oh - it sold out? Do I hear $200? Screw you, kids!

The skyboxification of culture

Recently, author Michael J. Sandel bemoaned what he called "the skyboxification of culture" in the New York Times.

He says:

"Not long ago, the ballpark was a place where CEOs and mailroom clerks sat side-by-side, and everyone got wet when it rained.

"Something similar has happened throughout society. Rich and poor increasingly live separate lives.

"(If I were president) I would invest in an infrastructure for civic renewal. It would draw us out of our skyboxes and into the common spaces of democratic citizenship." 

I dunno - sounds expensive.

I'm bleeding. May I please have a Band-Aid in the genericized sense of the word?

Aspirin, Escalator, and Zipper called: they want their trademarks back.

These three trademarks have something in common: they're not trademarks anymore.

Nope: they're what are called "genericized trademarks," which is what happens to a perfectly good trademark when people start using it to describe an entire class of products, rather than the one intended by the trademark's holder.

After a period of genericized use, the trademark holder can lose the rights or only exercise them in a diminished capacity, called..."genericide!"

So, be a dear and pass the Band-Aids, Xerox, and Kleenex. Actually, none of these brands is a  genericized trademark, but they all came close and had to launch what Wikipedia calls "aggressive corrective campaigns" to assert their ownership of the terms.

Note the strange, alien children in this ad who call Band-Aid "Band-Aid brand." Way to brainwash the kids, legal department!

Big Rock and Doritos ad contests: bad for the waistline, good for the soul

What happens next? You eat two bags of Doritos.

Beer, chips, and contests aren't just for breakfast anymore.

If the Super Bowl is over, it means that it's time for Doritos and Big Rock to persuade us that, though the blessed event is over and done with, our chips and beer intake should remain high. 

To do that, they roll out their big advertising contests to ostensibly give us a chance to win something while selling chips and beer by the chipwagon and barrelful one metric shitload at a time. Let's party!

1. Big Rock - The Eddies

In this contest, you have a choice between creating a print or TV ad. Top prize is $1,500 in the print category and - drink up, Eddie - $10,000 in the broadcast category.

Deadline for the contest is March 31 at 4:30 p.m. Click through on the above link to find out more. And remember that a beer before bedtime makes you a healthy, wealthy, and wise loner.

2. Doritos - The End

This is the End, my only friend. 

With Doritos' sales promotion,  the very balance of life is at stake: one flavor of Doritos must be destroyed: Buffalo Wings N' Ranch or Onion Rings N' Ketchup. You choose which one lives and which one dies by writing the last 20 seconds of the spot, above.

If you win, Doritos will produce the spot, and you'll get $25,000 and one per cent of future sales from the flavor that remains on the shelves.

Marketing geniuses, Doritos, because you have to buy TWO bags of chips to figure out which one to kill.

Deadline is March 13, and voting continues until March 27. The winning ending is revealed on May 5.

My favorite 45 cover designs

Q: What's a 45?

A: Only a 45-year-old knows for sure.

Why, it can only be the seven-inch vinyl record: the iTunes single of its day.

From roughly 1950 to 1990, the 45 rpm (revolutions per minute!) record was the format of choice for anyone who only wanted "the hit song" without having to buy an entire album full of mostly bad songs.

Formats may change, but bad albums are forever.

I still remember the first handful of 45s I ever bought: "You Better, You Bet" by the Who, "The Waiting" by Tom Petty, and "The No No Song" by Ringo Starr. I don't recall having even an inkling that everyone's favorite, happy-go-lucky Beatle was singing about rehab.

I only partly bought these 45s for the music; equally important was the 45 cover - a sleeve, actually - which worked to differentiate and market a product that looked exactly the same without the packaging, and express the artistic intent of the musician/music as a visual.

So predominant was this format, just a few years before I entered the Creative Communications program as a student, a standard assignment in graphic-design class was to create a 45 rpm cover for the artist/song of your choice.

Later, the assignment changed to "a cassette tape design for Lloyd Cole and the Commotions," followed by "a CD design for Dire Straits," followed by an intangible, invisible, downloadable file design for...?! D'oh!

The 45 is dead. Long live the 45 sleeve!

1. Sex Pistols - God Save the Queen

2. Pete Townshend - Rough Boys

3. The Beatles - All You Need is Love

4. Elvis Presley - All Shook Up

5. Bob Dylan - I Want You

6. Rolling Stones - Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, Standing in the Shadow?

7. The Clash - Pressure Drop

8. Talking Heads - Take Me to the River

9. Sex Pistols - Holidays in the Sun

10. Donovan - Mellow Yellow

Marketing Tide the P&G way!

My favorite marketing case study:

Problem:
You work in marketing at Procter & Gamble, and your job is to sell 10 per cent more Tide detergent this year.

You have all the tools of marketing at your disposal (the four Ps: product, place, price, promotion), and can do anything you want in order to sell 10 per cent more - but you shouldn't break the bank to do it.

What do you do?

Solution:
See the bottom of this blog post.

***
I pull out this case study at the beginning of every new advertising class or seminar I teach.

I love it because it's so simple, and - even better - it's true! This was my former boss's cross to bear when he worked as vice-president of Procter & Gamble (that was before he fell on hard times and had to work with me!).

It also underscores the point made my Bill Hicks in this classic stand-up comedy bit: marketers never met a dollar they didn't like, and are so focused on their quest to make more and more, they're not necessarily concerned with what you or I have to say about it:



***
What P&G did

My former boss was successful in his bid to sell 10 per cent more Tide that year, and quite possibly not a single consumer was aware that he did it.

What he did was simplicity at its finest: he increased the size of the scoop in the box by 10 per cent.

Genius or "Satan's little helper?" You decide!

The famous shopping and pancakes assignment starts now

The best ad and PR class ever.

When is shopping more than just shopping?

Thanks for asking, Plato.

It's when the RRC advertising majors and I make our annual visit to Polo Park for apple pancakes and Apple computers. This year, the PR majors were nice enough to join us - the more people eating pancakes the merrier, I say!

All apples aside, the main reason we go to the mall is to conduct some worthwhile market research and personal observation at the retail level. Stalking is involved.

The assignment:
Shopping Assign 10

Four, great target audiences who will buy your crap

I got a new computer and bright future in sales. Yeah-yeah!


Which came first: the product or the market?

Nine times out of 10, it's the product:

You have a vision for a product that will change the world. You move Heaven and Earth to get investors, get it produced, and put it on the shelves.

Then you sit back and...nothing happens, because it turns out that teenagers don't have $1 million to buy your back-to-school jet packs. D'oh!

But if you look around, listen to what people are saying and complaining about - caring about "your market" first - then it's easier to design a product that solves those complaints within that audience's means.

Makes sense if you think about it: we had zits before we had CLEARASIL; we had big thighs before we had the Thighmaster; we had male-pattern baldness before we had ROGAINE (love the theme line: "Break a family tradition. Keep your hair.")

Actually, we still have all of these things (or is it just me who has them?), but it hasn't stopped these products from at least giving people hope that they can take care of these problems by buying stuff.

And, as I say to blank stares in class every year in Ad class, "You don't sell soap, you sell HOPE!"

The four recession-proof target audiences

So, where are the best places to sell hope these days? Apart from mall kiosks, hot-dog carts, and dark back alleys, these are the four target audiences I'd go after:

1. Employees who get work to pay for stuff.

I go to CPRS luncheons for three reasons:

1. To network with my pals.
2. To get away from work for an hour.
3. Work pays for it! Let's party!

Never discount the power of "work pays for it."

The Wall Street Journal's entire business model is based on this idea, which might explain why it's one of the few existing print entities still protecting its content, charging for it, and turning a profit.

The key: provide something of value and find a price point that "work" doesn't notice, even when it comes time to "cut costs."

The best argument when the Winnipeg Free Press calls you to become a subscriber: "I already get it at work."

2. Troubled teens and young adults

"Kids": trendy and spendy.

I was blown away last May when I visited a high school, looked around, and noticed something that I'd never seen when I was in high school: well-dressed students. With iPhones, BlackBerrys and portable gaming systems at the ready.

The power of peer pressure and fashion to this age group cannot be discounted. And, to a new generation weaned on buying iPhone apps on-demand, low-priced impulse buys are the marketer's best friend.

As well, parents are more willing than ever to fork over the dough when junior needs something - like sneakers, sunglasses, and jeans.

Despite the human body continuing to have two legs, two arms, a torso, and a head, there's apparently no end to the "new" fashion-based products you can peddle to young fashion slaves everywhere.

As my restaurant server explained to me yesterday, "Jeans plus leggings equal jeggings."

Genius!

3. Seniors

While selling ointment to octogenarians may not be as sexy as, say, selling jeggings to young women, seniors have more disposable income than any other target audience, and are among the most-loyal buyers.

Senior markets are often ignored by marketers, even though they like the same stuff that young people like: iPhones, movies, workout equipment - whatever. The only thing that changes is your message and where you broadcast that message.

But where young people can only be reached when they're not in school or working, seniors are available to receive your message all day long, through online media, TV, and direct mail - which is why it doesn't cost as much to reach them as other target audiences.

4. Pet owners

"Pets are the new people." Creepy, but true.

While it would be nice to eliminate the middleman and sell to pets directly, that's probably still a few years away.

However, a nation of actors and celebrities - in view of a worldwide audience of people who idolize and emulate them - are showing their pets more public love than ever before, dressing them up in outfits, carrying them in blankets, and enrolling them in college (or was that just a movie?).

People have a deep, irrational love for Fifi and will do anything to make life better and more comfortable for her. They also feel guilty when they have to leave Fifi at home all day while they work, or when they come back from vacation.

Tap into that guilt, marketer! Soon...your...pet army...will be ready...to take over the world!


Is this song trying to sell me something?

Dillinger's death: is my favorite marketing story a fake?

Get yer bloody papers here!

Is my favorite marketing story about John Dillinger's death too bloody good to be true?

On the recent CreComm trip to Chicago, we went on the Untouchables Gangster Tour - a fun bus ride through the mean streets of the city, which not only included such scary locations as Oprah's studio and the Blues Brothers' orphanage, but also the Biograph Theatre where Dillinger was shot to death in 1934.

And the guy on the street who shoots the bus with the water gun - not because he has to, but because he wants to - is worth the price of admission alone.

Marketing Dillinger's death

On the tour, our guides - one of whom was a dead ringer for David Morse - repeated my favorite marketing story, which I've repeated myself many times since the tour.

The story goes like this:

A newspaper boy was selling papers near the theatre on the night that Dillinger was shot. The boy was so marketing-savvy, he was mindful enough to rip his newspapers into shreds, dip them in Dillinger's blood, and sell them for a hefty mark-up.

I love that story! It encompasses all of the key rules of marketing, including utility, supply and demand as it relates to price, and the importance of striking while the iron is hot.

But it occurred to me recently that maybe the story had the ring of something "too good to be true" - the very thing they warn students about in journalism school, so that when they get jobs as journalists, they'll feel guilty when most of the stories they write fall into this category.

So, I've done a little research into this topic, and I haven't been able to find a single, reliable reference to this actually happening:

• Wikipedia quotes the Chicago Sun-Times:

"There were also reports of people dipping their handkerchiefs and skirts into the pools of blood that had formed as Dillinger lay in the alley in order to secure keepsakes of the entire affair."

But nothing about the newspaper boy. And the original article to which it links back? "Could not be found."

• In her book, A Chicago Firehouse, Karen Kruse describes the scene like this:

"Dillinger was so well liked by the public, that when news of his death spread, women rushed to the scene, tearing off pieces of their undershirts or offering handkerchiefs, asking neighborhood kids to soak up some of the blood for their macabre souvenir."

• Quazen tells the story with a more individualized approach:

"One woman soaked up a newspaper with it. She shouted, “I bet I’m the only one from Kansas City with some of Dillinger’s blood!”

• Finally, in the Chicago Sun-Times Metro Chicago Almanac, we get this:

"Women dipped their skirts in his blood, and children sold bloodstained scraps of newspaper for a dime."

So, what gives? Is this a story that's "too good to be true," or "close to the truth, so we give it a pass," or both?

I was going to end this post by watching and writing about Public Enemies, the recent Johnny Depp movie about Dillinger, but then I remembered: that would mean that I have to watch Public Enemies, the recent Johnny Depp movie about Dillinger.

This is a call

So, instead I'll put it out there:

• Does anyone have any information about this story actually being true?

• Have you read something - anything - that recounts the story?

• Were you at the Biograph Theatre on the day Dillinger was shot? Apart from that, how did you enjoy the film?
  

• Have you seen Public Enemies? How do they handle this scene in the film?

The biggest heartbreak of all: eBay has not one bloody newspaper scrap with Dillinger's blood on it for sale.

These guys in period costumes seemed so believable at the time.

Apple introduces iAd: a whole, new world of appvertising

Marketing always wins.

It's something we discuss in advertising class early and often. It doesn't matter where technology is headed or where we ultimately train our eyeballs: somewhere, somebody is making plans to sell advertising on it.

"Hey, is that my bald head you're staring at? Slap a Nike logo on it!"

It's with that reminder that Apple brings you...iAd! This is Apple's first, real attempt to get interactive advertising into iPhone and iPad apps.

If you haven't heard about it yet, it's because the announcement kinda got buried in the iPhone 4 launch.

I'll let Steve Jobs do the talking (see the videos below), but here are the highlights:

• The secret to the ads: interactivity and emotion.

• Apps provide one billion ad opportunities per day and "an incredible demographic."
  

• The ads keep you in the apps - you don't get yanked out of your app or get redirected to the Safari browser.

• Developers get 60 per cent of ad revenue. I wonder where the other 40 per cent goes? Hmmm...
  

• The ads will NOT be designed using Adobe (another in a recent spate of "f- yous" from Apple to Adobe).

• Advertisers can embed games, posters, video, wallpapers, and other "free stuff' to users.

Great way for advertisers and developers to get audience attention and generate revenue, or great way for Apple to charge us twice for the same app by making us watch compulsory ads for something we already paid for?

To be continued...





- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Screw you, record sleeves! A not-so-fond farewell to lousy music packaging

Yeah, what Esquivel said. Or whistled.

I've been on a real musical sentimental journey recently; why, just witness my fond recollection of 45 RPM label designs here.

No more! As of today, everything must go, starting with one of the music-related things I'm least sentimental about: the end of wasteful and just plain boneheaded music packaging.

If we can accept that Napster, free downloads, and iTunes killed the album - or at least the concept of paying for it - by turning it into something intangible, we can also accept that they may have saved us from these all-too-tangible - and terrible - "innovations:"

1. Bar codes

Commerce - literally - over art.

2. The unremovable "protective tape" across the top of the CD

Pity he'll never hear it.

3. The superfluous cardboard CD cover that hides the same CD cover beneath it

Surprise! Err, no.

4. The longbox CD package

Best Value = double the cardboard!

5. The everything-but-the-kitchen-sink CD package

I see no CD here.

6. Digipaks and jewel cases

A most classy waste of cardboard and plastic!

7. Endless compilations featuring the same music

Shoplifters of the world: unite and take over!

8. Endless reissues, remasters, and box sets

Stereo or mono? Like anyone can tell the difference.

9. "Special" odd-sized CDs

Tattoo You has more music, vertically speaking.

10. The CD sleeve that not only protects, but traps the CD, so you can't remove it without amputating your hand

Amputated hand not pictured.

I Believe - that there is no more Olympic merch left at HBC

Ka-ching! This way to Olympic merch.

Let's hear it for the Bay.

After years of stagnant sales and ill-advised marketing strategies, HBC finally struck gold with its Olympic merch: its red, wool mitts are selling for $30 on eBay, its website crashed from user overload, and the low supply is making demand grow, even after the Olympics have ended.

The success is due to the collision of pent-up patriotism and cool designs that celebrate the Olympics, but feature enough of HBC's classic heritage to avoid just being a souvenir. These are clothes that can be worn all the time, not just on Canada Day.

I'm glad for the Bay, because I've always been a fan. Every time a girlfriend dumped me - and that's hundreds of times, people! - I'd go to the Bay downtown for a malt and hot dog in the basement, and it made everything better. You hear that ex-girlfriends? I'm betttteerrrrrrr! Waaaah!

I'll have a malt and more, please.

I visited the Bay downtown today for a malt and a dog and - I admit it - I wanted to buy one of those kick-ass reindeer sweaters Team Canada was wearing at the closing ceremonies.

CreComm student Greg Berg tells me that the sweaters go for about $350, but since I'm Moneybags Larsen, no price is too high to be on the forefront of Canadian chic.

But when I arrived at the store, I was greeted with this, a pathetic display that still pleaded with me to "Believe" in light of all evidence to the contrary:

Even sadder was this baseball cap sitting atop these empty shelves, just begging for someone to add an apostrophe T to the end of CAN. I didn't - but I almost bought it to rescue it from its loneliness.


A lovely store employee named Louise told me that most of the Olympic merchandise sold out daily within about half an hour of the store opening.

"I got myself some of the mittens," she said. "But I had to do some sneaking around to get them."

More maple syrup, more often

Apparently, HBC gets it now. It's intending to launch a permanent Olympic-style fashion line and Canadian shop featuring maple sugar, syrup, trapper hats, blankets, coats, and canoes.

It's about time. I used to use the Bay as a rebranding assignment with third-year Graphic Design students, mainly because anyone who cared could tell that the Bay was headed down the wrong path and just begging to be fixed.

It didn't help that I could never tell that the "B" in the Bay logo was actually a "B." Just looked like a ribbon to me...

The assignment:
Rationale Assignment 2

Having traveled through Japan, I can say that having the Bay's maple syrup on your person is better than having actual currency. You can use it to get rides in cabs, stay at people's houses, and, I presume, to have anyone whacked that you like. When the syrup runs out, so do the favors, so if you're planning on doing the same: trade wisely.

The long-term impact

The Globe & Mail reports that HBC's Olympic sponsorship is expected to have a long-term impact on the brand. It says that consumer awareness of HBC is higher than any other Olympic sponsor, and the goodwill toward the games and Olympic paraphernalia appears to be rubbing off on the store and other merchandise.

Yay! But, more fundamentally - and as a lifelong Bay shopper - here's what I think the Bay should do to keep the momentum going:

1. Change its name back to the Hudson's Bay Company. C'mon: HBC is soooo KFC.

1. Stop hiding the checkouts. That cash register stencil on the floor with an arrow leads nowhere.

2. Stop understaffing the checkouts. Louise can't do it all, you know.

3. Stop the sales staff from telling me that the product I'm buying is cheaper elsewhere.

4. Stop the sales staff from telling me to come back on Saturday - "Bay Day!" - when the product will be cheaper.

5. Stop the sales staff from giving away the merchandise when they're not sure if an item is on sale.

6. More Paddlewheel Restaurant on more floors selling more chocolate pie.

7. More sweaters with more beavers, hockey players, trappers, mounties, and Neil Young.

Highlights from Directions Business Conference 2010

Communications consultant and former CNN reporter Jackie Shymanski (left) and a roundtable of famous RRC students.

Another year, another fine RRC Directions Business Conference.

I always enjoy the conference for the networking: gossiping, griping, teasing, joking around, wine consumption, and spontaneous bursts of hugging - uh, maybe that's all just me - but this year I also had the good fortune to happen upon a pretty fine slate of guest speakers.

Among the highlights:

1. Jason Wortzman, Granny's Poultry

Jason walked us through his brilliant career as a chef in France, India, Israel, London, and Winnipeg, and in marketing some of Manitoba's classic brands, like Bothwell Cheese and Granny's Poultry.

I get hungry listening to people talk about food, which explains why I found myself craving Italian black summer truffles for the rest of the day.

Highlights from his speech:

• "When you get the experience, go back to your hometown, and embrace all of the local ingredients. Eating local and regional cuisine is a philosophy, not a food."

• "The most important, affordable way to get your message out in the food industry is through your packaging and logo; they have to tell a story."

• "PR, special events, community relations, interactive Web design, online ordering, and contests are all important elements in a marketing plan."

• "Get a PR agency to make everything you do a big story." He used the word "spin," but I won't.
  

• "No amount of marketing will save a bad product."

Coming soon to Granny's:

• A new logo and re-branding of Granny's. Or is that a re-granning of Brandy's? Says Wortzman: "It's a revolution rather than an evolution of the brand."

• Granny's Wing Stix in Dijon rosemary and honey mustard flavors.

• Heritage turkey flocks: more expensive, premium turkeys with darker meat, more protein, and a pronounced flavor.

2. Kyle Romaniuk and Chuck Phillips, Cocoon Branding

Kyle and Chuck are brand advocates - brandvocates, I tell you! - who talked about all things branding in their presentation: research, strategy, profit, value, growth, innovation, culture, and the creative environment.

I didn't take many notes, because I prefer to have my mind become one with the brandscape (insert Avatar reference here), which it did, especially when the guys talked about their new Oi sofa.

The sofa, try to follow me here, started out as "a concept of a brand." What if, they asked not too long ago, "products could adapt to people's lives, needs, and ever-changing sense of style?"

The answer was Oi: a sofa in a box that you can build into the sofa of your dreams. All you do is attach the interlocking blocks into the arrangement of your choice, place them on the base, and rearrange them when you get sick of the old configuration.

Yeah, you can really buy it - for $2,849 USD - but if you don't have Kenton Larsen money, you can also follow Oi on Twitter.

Sofa King good: Kyle Romaniuk talks creative environment.

3. Rachel Shane, Red Wagon Entertainment

As it said in the title of her presentation, Rachel Shane made it from Portage and Main to Hollywood and Vine, starting her career by fetching coffees and makin' copies on the Mask of Zorro to having a film in development with Leo DiCaprio.

Highlights from her speech:

• Rachel's down-to-Earth presentation was befitting of her hometown: "Being from Winnipeg - you're friendly," she said.

• Will all movies in the future be in 3D, like Avatar? "Yes," she deadpanned. But she followed that up by saying that all "action" movies would likely be 3D with romantic comedies continuing to be 2D, the way romantic comedy fans like them.

• Easiest to work with actor: Geena Davis. Hardest to work with actor (she's told): Melanie Griffith.

• Rachel quit law school at UBC after one year in order to work in film. "I didn't want to be another asshole lawyer driving a BMW," she said. "So I moved to L.A. where everyone is another asshole lawyer driving a BMW."

• Most embarrassing movie with which (or witch) she's ever been associated:

4. Apple surprise x 2!

One for me, one for my imaginary manservant, Ruprecht.

The last time I'll ever be able to do this "hilarious" bit on The Beaver magazine

The Beaver is changing its name. Something about it being mistaken as porn by online filters. Go figure!

I used to do a bit on The Beaver magazine in my stand-up act. Sadly it will expire in about another couple of weeks, if that. The bit and the act.

RIP, The Beaver. And RIP this "hilarious" bit:

"Think about this scary fact: kids growing up now have computers in their rooms from which they can access porn anytime they like. A porn portal! And I resent that... because when we were kids, we used to have to work hard for our porn!"

"We'd have to put on a disguise. Sneak around the store, look for the dirty magazines section. Take one off the stand, tip toe to the checkout. Lower your voice: "How much for the Beaver magazine, kind sir?" Sneak it home, wait for my parents to fall asleep, and get out my flashlight."

"And then it was, "Ahhhhh - what have you got for me The Beaver magazine! What!? It's a Canadian History magazine!? OK, I guess I'll read about the invention of Medicare."

"Six hours later, I'd wake up drenched in sweat, "Wow - Tommy Douglas was the greatest Canadian!"

Wah, wah, wah.

Long live "Canada's History" magazine!

Special K sells hope like Dove soap

Isn't this special?

When I was a kid, Special K was for men, women, and children; you'd eat it for breakfast one day a year when you got sick of the Corn Flakes you'd eaten for breakfast on the other 364 days.

In recent years, it's been pushed at women as a dietary plan under the banner, the Special K Challenge!

Now comes a new campaign called, the Victory Project, which features "real women" in the same vein of the famous Dove Real Beauty campaign, functioning as a catch-all beauty, health, and fashion destination, like a What Not to Wear and Queer Eye sponsored by Tony the Tiger.

Talk about proving the old marketing adage, "Don't sell soap, sell hope!"

Special K even asks U.S. women to audition to be a cast member on the site, to show the path "from plan to victory." How does the plan work? By eating a lot of Special K multiple times a day, of course.

This has been the goal of the cereal and beverage industry for some time: the golden prize that comes from getting users to be "repeat users;" the thinking being that it's easier to get someone to drink Coke at breakfast who already drinks it at lunch than it is to get someone who doesn't drink Coke at all to start doing it.

This is why there are recipes on the side of cereal boxes, the reason that cereal bars exist, and the reason why a diet and fashion plan with cereal at its heart is a marketer's dream come true. If it works, of course.

The Times quotes Jose Alberto Duenas, Kellogg's vice-president of cereal marketing:

“We’re trying to be faithful to giving real women a place to declare victory without the piece feeling overwhelmed by what the brand brings to the table. If you want to make a connection, you have to give consumers a chance to take part of the spotlight. Authenticity is what we’re looking for.”

Brooklyn soda in da house and on da floor: Manhattan Special Espresso Coffee Soda

Manhattan Special before...

...and after.

Would you like a little soda with your caffeine and sugar?

On my last visit to New York, I took Bobby Pinn's great Rock Junket Tour - a walking tour of the East Village - a rock, punk, and glam all-inclusive.

At the end of the tour, Bobby gives you a homemade brochure with his list of must-sees in the city, including riding the Cyclone at Coney Island and having an egg cream soda at the Gem Spa.

Manhattan Special Espresso Coffee Soda to go

Having gleefully thrown my neck out on the Cyclone and gulped an egg cream soda at the New York Dolls' old hangout, I wanted to accomplish the next item on the list, which is to drink a Manhattan Special Espresso Coffee Soda.

The beverage is surprisingly difficult to find: I couldn't track it down at a single New York deli (where the brochure said I could), and when I emailed the company, I got back a grammatically incorrect auto-response that said that I couldn't get it in Winnipeg or North Dakota.

But my prayers were answered recently when my mother came back from Brooklyn - home of the Manhattan Special since 1895! - and scored me two bottles of the stuff, one of which I brought to school today for a student taste test. More on that in a second.

"The story"

In advertising these days, everything is about "the product story" and Manhattan Special has a good one:

"Take a little pride and a little loving care, that's what has been going into the production of Manhattan Special since 1895.

"As the original and award-winning Pure Espresso Coffee Soda, we have satisfied loyal consumers with our family's secret recipe for over 100 years.

"Our unique blend of the world's finest coffee beans (which are hand brewed to perfection), along with the use of pure cane sugar, has allowed us to create a truly delicious coffee experience!"

Although the company uses my least-favorite advertising word, "unique," who can resist the allure of "secret recipe," "100 years," and "truly delicious?" Not me!

The company's website is full of comments from satisfied New Yorkers, and is beloved in the tri-state area as something of a high-octane Pic-a-Pop. One typical comment (I couldn't resist correcting the typos, though I know I'm not supposed to do it in a direct quotation - sorry!):

"What goes better with a Panella sandwich but an ICE COLD MANHATTAN Special? That was living. We would plan shopping days with my grandmother, who would bring us to get the sandwich en route to placing her shopping orders at each shop keep. Some days we would pick up 1/2 lb of Procutto and mozzarella at Morris' Itatian Latticini, go next door to the bakery, and eat in the back where my grandmother was friends with the bakers. Don't ever change that classic recipe. I've since moved out of state, however I am blessed to be able to get your coffee treat."

In 2008, the New York Times said that Manhattan Special was, for New Yorkers of a certain age, a first rite after nursing (the full story is here) and talks about the death of its founder - a mysterious homicide that still hasn't been solved. Ah, "mystery," the secret ingredient of every successful product.

Surprise!

Given the high degree of brand loyalty, it was with high expectations that I popped open the strangely heavy, 828 ml bottle of Manhattan Special the second I got it home. However, since the bottle made the trip back from New York on a plane, and the contents are pressurized, it sprayed me in the face and spilled all over the floor.

I eventually wrestled it into submission, but not before noticing that the beverage smells a lot like the Nonsuch exhibit at the Manitoba Museum. Honestly, the beverage, not the floor, has the pungent aroma of oiled, wood floors after being washed with Pledge.

Drink up, Johnny!

The ingredients listed on the bottle: pure coffee, carbonated water, sugar, caramel color and preserved potassium sorbate and sodium benzoate. No floor polish, then? Hmmm....

Thankfully, there was still some left over after the bottle exploded, so I tried it, expecting it to taste like it smelled: Mr. Clean meets Coke Blak. Instead, I took a sip and experienced a rush of caffeine that made me go blind, black out, and wake up naked in a strange back alley.

OK, not really, but that's what the experience brought to mind over the two seconds the beverage took to get from my mouth to my stomach, where it then began battling the other stuff that was hanging out there in a no-holds-barred cage match.

The student taste test

I wanted to share this delightful experience with my first-year students on their first day back to school today, so I brought along a decanter of Manhattan Special to class - yes, it exploded, again (sorry to Jess in the front row and the carpet).

I poured a shot-glass portion into a styrofoam cup for each student, expecting them to gag and pass out like me. I was even planning to post their hilarious quotes here.

But something surprising happened: they actually liked it. Go figure.

So tonight, I'll drink the last glassful of the stuff in my fridge to toast to a new semester and give it one more chance to awaken my inner caffeine and sugar demon. If that doesn't work, mark my words: I'm drinking all of the Coca-Cola and lemon-fresh Pledge in the house.

The first guerrilla marketing campaign was elephantine

Edison: inventor of light bulbs, electrocutor of elephants.

The above film is perhaps the first guerrilla marketing/propaganda/publicity stunt/viral video of all time, courtesy of the world-famous inventor, renowned genius, and, er, torturer of animals, Thomas Edison.

AC versus DC

In the late 1800s, in an attempt to discredit competitor Nikola Tesla and Westinghouse's "alternating current" technology, Edison launched a shameless PR campaign to prove that the technology was much more dangerous than his "direct current" approach.

His efforts included paying neighborhood kids 25 cents a pop to round up stray cats and dogs; once they did, he held news conferences where he'd electrocute the animals using "dangerous alternating currents" to the horror of the invited guests. 

Zzzzap. "See how dangerous this AC technology is, my friends?" Zzzzzap.

It's not known whether there was ample parking, refreshments were served, or anyone used the expression, "a win-win scenario." 

As part of his campaign, Edison also commissioned one of his employees, Harold Brown, to invent the electric chair - powered by dangerous AC - so he could say that the condemned men on whom it was used had been "Westinghoused." 

Sending Topsy turvy

But Edison's true piece de resistance happened in 1903, when he volunteered to kill Topsy, the "rogue Coney Island elephant" using - you guessed it - 6,600 volts of AC. Later, he released the above film under the sensitive title, "Electrocuting an Elephant."

Despite Edison's electric PR efforts, AC eventually won out as the best way to deliver power. And AC/DC made millions of dollars touring the world as a rock and roll band. 

Edison, of course, went down in history as one of the world's greatest inventors, a kind and grandfatherly figure we can thank every time we turn on a light switch and watch a YouTube video showing what happens to an elephant when it's electrocuted. 

Nice!