“Awesome” Marketing

I have a degree in Advertising.

This means that I was required to take Marketing 360 at Washington State University. Now, anyone who took Marketing 360 can automatically consider themselves a Marketing Expert, but I took Marketing 360 twice!*** Therefore I can authoritatively state that I am a Marketing Wizard.

Now that you have been informed of my esteemed credentials, listen to what I have to say in regards to a case study of HomeBest Brands.

HomeBest Brands: A Case Study**

It was a Thursday.

Thursday is Marketing Meeting Day at the headquarters of HomeBest Brands, Inc. in Mesopotamia, Texas. It is this meeting that my case study would like to address. I believe you’ll find this to be the turning point.

Present at this meeting were HomeBest Brands’ Chief Marketing Experts, Paul Samwords, Esther Kijjikalochsimffkr and Joseph Yellington. Alexander McHuffingtons, Vice President of Marketing led the meeting. There were two others in this meeting: a shadowy figure who sat in the only unlit corner of the room, and me. I was hiding behind the birthday cake. (Which was delicious.)

The meeting began exactly the way it ended, only somewhat different. There was joy in the room as a very hospitable Esther served cake and led everyone in singing five mirthful rounds of the “Happy Birthday” song to Paul. It wasn’t his birthday, but he liked cake, so he didn’t say anything about that.

This was a great group of friends and colleagues that had been together at HomeBest Brands for many years. They knew most of each other’s deepest fears and dreams as well as their aspirations. They had been together through hard times and good times. This was, to say the least, a close knit group. They knew everything about each other – nearly every intimate detail – except when their birthdays were. This was a mystery to each and to all.

Speaking from the perspective of the fly-on-the-wall Marketing Wizard, I must share that this was as excellent a Marketing Meeting as I had ever had the privelege to attend. Many wonderful marketing buzzwords were thrown around: “SWOT”, “distribution channel”, and, um, “SWOT”, just to name a few of the literally hundreds of phrases used from Marketing jargon. And let me tell you: there was a great deal of discussion about who, indeed, moved the cheese. It was determined to have been someone in Payroll.

After some talk at length about growing competition for grocery shelf placement, Alexander changed the topic of discussion.

“There’s something critical we all need to look at right now,” he said, as he pulled up the following PowerPoint slide.

“There’s a typo in your PowerPoint,” pointed out Joseph.

“No, there’s not,” Alexander said.

“Yes, there is.” Esther said.

“Where?” Alexander said, growing irritated at this distraction.

“It says, ‘Profist’ instead of ‘Profits’,” Margaretta said.

“What are you doing here, Margaretta? This is a Marketing Meeting – get back to Payroll!” Alexander’s voice intensified. “Oh— and we’re going to have words later about the cheese-moving debacle!”

Alexander returned to his place near the projection.

“Can we forget about the typo for now?!”

“Sure,” said Esther.

“I’m agreeable to that,” said Joseph.

“I’ve made typos in PowerPoint before,” said Paul.

“Yes, we all have, haven’t we, Joseph?” Esther said.

“You just get so used to Microsoft Word’s AutoComplete feature and then you go to PowerPoint and it doesn’t employ the same feature,” said Paul.

“Exactly! That’s what does it to me!” said Joseph, “You really hit the nail on the head, Paul, to use a familiar but too often used cliche.”

“It’s actually redundant to say, ‘too-often used cliche’,” said Esther. “A cliche is, by definition, too often used. That’s what makes it cliche.”

“Yes, you’re right, Esther,” Joseph said. “I apologize.”

Alexander felt like he was losing control of the meeting. He stepped forward toward the table where everyone was seated and slammed his fist down on the table.

“People! The board says if we don’t turn this thing around el pronto…” Alexander hesitated, sensing the tension within him build.

“If we can’t get profits back up,” Alexander continued, “the entire marketing department is out of here… and we’ll all be unemployed within the month.”

A meeting that had begun with the rousing, soul-lifting joy of belting out the “Happy Birthday” song was suddenly drained of its enthusiasm. Paul’s pulse raced in the panic of potential unemployment. Esther sank dismally in her seat as she imagined being forever branded as a “failure” by her sister-in-law. Joseph quickly excused himself to use the restroom. (But he was really getting candy. Please don’t tell anyone: he asked me to keep it a secret.)

Each of the Marketing Experts sat for nearly a minute in silence, considering their fate.

Alexander didn’t have anything else to say – and he certainly didn’t have any ideas. To him, his career was over, his life was over, and this meeting was certainly over.

But the meeting wasn’t over.

The dark figure in the darkest corner of the room stood up and walked into the light. Ellis R. Aftershave was HomeBest’s Consulting Marketing Wizard and he had a Plan. He also smelled like an odd mixture of Vick’s Vapor Rub and sausage, but that’s sort of irrelevant.

As Ellis approached the front of the table, Joseph returned to the meeting room with Skittles in his left pocket and Peanut Butter M&Ms in his right pocket. (Shh!)

Ellis inserted a CD into the laptop running the PowerPoint projection and clicked the mouse a couple of times. Immediately the following picture was displayed on the screen.

“Do you see this packaging?” Ellis asked. “This sucks. It’s boring!”

“Hey!” said Paul, feeling quite defensive all of a sudden. “What about that metallic blue stripe? That’s pretty sweet! Metallic blue stripes are all the rage I hear.”

“Do you know what your problem is?” Ellis asked the group.

“I’m an alcoholic?” guessed Joseph.

“Besides that,” said Ellis.

Silence filled the room.

“Think hard,” said Ellis.

Silence filled the room again. I snuck another peice of cake.

“No clue.” Alexander finally said. “What’s our problem?”

“Here’s your problem,” said Ellis. “You’re just not awesome enough!”

Eyes around the table started lighting up.

“We really aren’t that awesome, are we?” Esther said to Paul.

“No, we’re not,” said Paul.

I was in awe. This Marketing Wizard had zeroed in on the most critical failing of this group’s marketing.

“Okay, hotshot,” challenged Alexander. “So you’ve identified the problem. What the heck is your solution?”

“This,” Ellis said.

“Ooh!” said Esther.

“That’s incredible!” said Paul.

“The most amazing marketing idea ever!” said Joseph.

“Wow! Let’s see Ziploc and Glad compete with that crap!” said Alexander.

“You’re wanted on line 5, Joseph,” said Margaretta.

“Get back to Payroll, Margaretta!” yelled Alexander.

Yes, that meeting was the turning point for HomeBest Brands, Inc., but it was also a turning point in the use of the word “Awesome”.

And that, to me, is the real victory.

Also: the cake was fantastic.

Notes:

*** I wrote down the ending time of the final instead of the start time. The final was a significant enough portion of the grade that I went from an A to a C-, which was just low enough to be able to repeat it. I didn’t go to class the second time around but that doesn’t count, right?

** I made this all up. (Except the pictures of the HomeBest products.)

Practice Makes Perfect… I guess

I have a theory and it’s probably wrong. Or boring.

But I’m already writing about it, so what the heck…

My theory is this: People who do specific things very well are either normal, stable people who work very hard and practice a great deal or they are rabid, mildly insane and extremely eccentric people who are also phenomenally gifted.

See the diagram below:

This is certainly a very limited diagram. There are, of course, more than four quadrants of people. It’s totally silly to limit the vast number of people out there to just four categories. There’s like five!

I fall into that small, unnamed category of those who are rabid, mildly insane, extremely eccentric people who are not phenomenally gifted, but don’t practice either. Thankfully, I have taken care of the rabies issue. For now.

But seriously, here’s the problem: I am a dabbling jackass of all trades. (All trades except blacksmithery, that is. Bloody anvils!) As soon as something I’m working in or on gets too difficult, I find a new hobby or skill to take up.

There are several things that have haunted me for many years. One is this creepy ghost named Mr. Charlesworth Richenbacher. But he and I have been getting along for some time, so that’s really not a problem. But the other thing that has haunted me for so long has been my inability to practice things once reaching an operating level of proficiency.

For example, after playing guitar long enough, I could play most of the basic chords and all of the uncomplicated barre chords quite easily. At that point, my development as a guitar player choked, wheezed, and sputtered to a stop. When I could hack together a web page designed entirely in notepad without it looking horrible, I stopped working on my html and css skills. Same goes for Photoshop, Premiere, and a huge number of software titles, as well as the Linux and Mac operating systems.

More important to me than any other skill is writing, but I plateaued there as well and stopped practicing.

once I reached the point in college where I could crank out in 24 straight hours a high quality full term paper with research, full citations and multiple revisions, I stopped working on my writing. After I finished college, I didn’t write anything.

Unfortunately, when I was in second grade, after reading Alexander Key’s Sprockets, I determined that I would practice writing every single day of my life. Shortly thereafter, I signed my name in blood on the back inside cover of Beverly Cleary’s Dear Mr. Henshaw. And the blood’s now about as crusty as my un-practiced writing has gotten.

Today, however, I have decided to make good on the committment I put myself to so many years ago. I am going to write something every day. To keep myself accountable, I am going to post something every day. I won’t necessarily post what I write, as a lot of it will probably suck ass. But I will do my best to post something just so I can keep track of my progress.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll be the next Steve Geluso!

Killing Telemarketers with Kindness and Songs About Colonial Hats

I believe each individual should do as much as they can to be a part of solving the world’s problems. Some people are gifted with tremendous resources and talents that can be applied to overcoming a diversity of problems. Others can only make a minor contribution.

I’m ready to make mine. And here it is:

I have solved the telemarketer quandry.

You’ve experienced it. The phone rings. You answer it… and before there is a word from the other end of the line, you already know it’s some telemarketer. Assuming you’re like me and you don’t feel right about being rude to some poor working guy or gal, you try to think of what you’re going to say in order to quickly get off the phone without feeling like a jerk. Perhaps you even have a standard line: “I’m sorry, I’m not interested right now.” Or something like that.

What is my solution?

I break into song! A particular song, to be exact:

My hat, it has three corners!
(Three corners has my hat.)
And had it not three corners,
it would not be my hat!

I have been doing this for about four years now and I’ve been able to witness some tremendous results.

First, the telemarketer always laughs..As I begin to sing, it’s regular that I hear them calling over a co-worker or two to hear my poor serenade.

Second, some telemarketers really do sing along! My personal goal is to get these folks to sing with me. Usually I tell them that the song means a lot to me personally and that it has helped me through some tough times in my life.

Finally, I now look forward to telemarketing calls. There was a time when it was frustrating and distracting to get interrupted by a phone call from someone i didn’t know or care about selling me something I don’t want. Now whenever the phone rings on our land line, I rush to answer it in hopes that I will once again be afforded the opportunity to brighten some poor sap’s day either by singing to them, singing with them, or buying a brand new set of knives that will cut through a shoe!

This Grandpa is Fantastic!

I was walking through Target several years ago when a shirt leapt off the clothes rack and tackled me. It was my new favorite t-shirt!

In brilliant colors on the front of this shirt were the words: “TGIF: This Grandpa is Fantastic!”

Certainly, the idea of a young man walking around wearing a shirt declaring his own elderly fantasticness is quite humorous, but the thought that occurred to me at that very moment had me rolling on the floor laughing.

It was, I must admit in all honesty, a fairly sick picture that flashed in my mind just then.

I envisioned a tribe of cannibals perching on their stumps around a campfire with their paper plates and plastic utensils in hand, eating their supper together. One of the chief cannibals is sipping his evening coffee as he leans over to the head cook seated next to him and affirms the meal, saying, “This grandpa is fantastic!”

As that vivid scene unfolded in my head, I knew the shirt had to be mine… and that it would be mine for all time!

I think I gave it to my little brother or something.

July 23th

Has anyone else seen the date “July 23th” anywhere? I saw it on a certificate that my friend got at XC camp, and I also saw it on asofterworld and now am seeing it all over the place! What is the deal?

Things

Adam was kind enough to show me how to make things better. Like putting pictures in my posts! And what better pictures to put in my posts that those pictures that my sisters take of my cat? None, there are no better pictures to put.

Under the pressure of a friend and extreme boredom, I decided to make an animation with Flash. I think that it turned out good, although it be a bit twisted and probably downright evil, but isn’t that a requirement of a Flash animation? Anways, you can go ahead and check it out at steve.mathcaddy.com

Also, one day my mother and sisters went for a walk and something followed them home. Check that out here in Photo Mojo.

Track & Field Districts

This meet started out how all other meets should start out, with the ambition to conquer the world. So being the Risk fanatics that we are, I went about trying to make a portable Risk board that we could play on the 3 hour bus ride to and back from Wenatchee.

My first idea was to secure small bits of metal to the underside of each piece and place magnets on the underside of the board beneath each territory. This didn’t work in theory because the magnets would slide all over the place and I didn’t have nearly enough magnets for each territory or any metal to place under the pieces. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily. After all, I did have all school day to waste thinking about this.

My next great idea was to carve holes all over in the board that would be as wide as an infantry unit, as long as a cavalry unit and have to slits to the sides for the wheels of the artillery units. This turned out to be a horrible idea because it involved completely destroying my risk board.

I thought that I had the solution this time. I decided to use pins to represent armies! In theory, the pins would be easily stuck into, taken out of and moved around the board with great ease. In reality, the pins bent when you tried to stick them in the board and once you got them through the board, they stabbed your leg.

When I had completely mutilated my leg with pin pricks to the point that I couldn’t stand anymore, I realized that the original game board would not work as my special travel edition. I remembered that we had a chunk of Styrofoam in our house that wasn’t being used for anything and I thought that after I drew the risk board onto it that it would work perfectly. Unfortunately, the board ended up not only being nearly impossible for me to trace to my satisfaction, but I also couldn’t find our precious Styrofoam.

While looking for the Styrofoam I found a nice tack board hat my Mom was using to display some necklaces and bracelets that she made. This would provide the perfect surface for my travel Risk board! Alas, she did not let me use it, of course why would she? That would only make my goal that much closer to turning into an achievement.

I thought that I had failed in my quest, but the next day things changed. I went to school with my 250 yellow-headed pins, multicolored markers, dice and original Risk board without any intention of actually getting a good game of risk going. Soon enough, I met up with someone that wanted to try to play a game of Risk. He had a map of Europe and a bit of western Asia with him from his Geography class and we decided to play on that for a 2 player map. We grabbed a mouse pad from a nearby computer and stuck that under the map so that the pins would have something to stick in. It worked wonderfully! When the class was near ending and the teacher wasn’t looking, I convinced her to let me borrow the mouse pad over the weekend so that we play Risk on the bus ride to Districts.

On the way up to Wenatchee I got in two good two player games of Risk, the first one I won easily, and the second was a bloody massacre with neither side gaining or losing much ground. I think that if the second game continued, I might not have been able to prevail.

We arrived in Wenatchee about 2 and a half hours before m race, which really sucked because we had nothing to do besides be nervous about our upcoming races. I was especially nervous because I was ranked dead last in the mile. In fact, I was only allowed into the race because a teammate of mine had decided to drop the mile and run the two-mile as fresh as he could be instead of running them both. After he gave up the mile I was next in line in the district to be let in to the race. I of course was told that I was let into Districts on Tuesday, a whole weekend and a day after I thought that my season ended with JV Championships. During that weekend I hadn’t exactly stuck to a ‘no carbonated beverage’ diet or any healthy diet for that matter.

Even after I heard that I was in Districts, that didn’t stop me from gorging myself at Carmichael’s Middle School Track Banquet at Granny’s Buffet. My little sister is on that track team and so is my good friends little brother, so we actually had an excuse for going. We also convinced two more of our friends to coincidentally show up for dinner. We ate in solitude in our back corner of the restaurant with no one else in our entire row of tables against the wall. My ‘food friendly’ friend came up with the great idea that we should have a race down the row of tables to the other side of the room. He explained that to move from one table to the next, you had to eat a full plate of food at the table that you were currently at. There were 12 tables in all so it sounded like a great idea! We all got off to a good start wolfing down food at the first three tables with ease. After the 3rd or 4th table we lost a participant and after the 4th or 5th table, it was down to just my fat and gassy friend and me. We kept a steady pace all the way to the 7th table and then decided that the last 5 tables would be all desert. I continued the race with a vanilla ice cream cone with sprinkles and a few cookies, but then my Dad pulled me out of the race because he wanted to go home. I was told that my friend kept on going, but he too had to leave before he could reach his goal. Rumor also has it that he wanted to stop by Wendy’s on the way home. He is my hero.

Anyways, at Districts, we were finally getting lined up to run the mile. I was very nervous and also excited because I knew that there was only 1 mile separating me from the end of my season, again. I decided that there wasn’t going to be any way that I wouldn’t run a sub 5 minute mile. I also promised myself not to finish last.

I took off the first lap trying to stick as close to the back of the pack as I could, and trying to ride their pace to my magical sub 5 mile. I started my second lap at 71 seconds, 4 seconds faster than I should have run my first lap. I kept telling myself every thing that I could think of to push myself and settle into my ‘groove’ pace, but the more that I told myself ‘you can do it!’, ‘you got this!’, ‘your going to break 5!’, ‘don’t let this guy pass you!’, ‘stick with this guy till the end!’, the more unsettled I became and I just couldn’t find any pace that worked for me. I finished my second lap around 2:32 which was a bit more on pace than before, but slower that I would have liked. Physically, I felt pumped and ready to tear up the track, but mentally I was in shambles. Coming down the final stretch I looked up at the clock and saw 4:45, seeing that I thought that there was still hope for me to break 5. Neh, I didn’t. I ran a 5:04.99, which I bragged to my team mates was still sub 5:05. although I didn’t reach my goal of breaking 5, I did get second to last! I was happy to see that I was not a complete failure.

After my race we had an awesome 4 player Risk game on the official board and I was the first one to be conquered. *sigh*

California Trip Part II: An Airline Ethics Question

I arrived this morning at the Orange County Airport (aka John Wayne Airport aka Santa Ana Airport aka I hate the abbreviation aka, okay?). Walking in the doors went well, but it went downhill from there.

When we took off from Orange County, we did an odd thing. As we got over the ocean to turn, we were headed straight out to sea. Then we turned right (toward Seattle), then left, then again to the right. As we made the third in this bizarre series of turns, you could feel the pilot take manual control of the jet. We banked to the right quickly and a little rough. We were now back on course, headed up the coast toward Seattle, but it felt like something was wrong. This feeling was confirmed as we started climbing to about 18,000 feet and then dropped to about 15,000 feet.

Then the pilot came on the PA and made the most unnerving statement I’ve ever heard. “Hello folks, this is your captain. The plane is completely flyable.”

What?? Who would have even questioned it wasn’t flyable?!

Pilot Talking

He continued: “There is absolutely nothing wrong with the plane that I cannot control.” Okay, still a little bit of a weirdly frightening statement. I, of course, knew everything was probably just fine. But he sounded so darn defensive it was pretty surprising.

The pilot then explained that the plane’s autopilot turning controller was malfunctioning and that he had requested permission to fly the plane manually to Seattle, but that we would probably make an “emergency landing” at LAX.

We did land at LAX a few minutes later.

I have no doubt there was nothing seriously wrong with the plane. I imagine the pilot was nothing but 100% truthful with us. But it got me thinking. What if there was something wrong? Say we had a good chance of needing to make an incredibly dangerous emergency landing? Would it be better to tell the passengers everything was safe even if it wasn’t? Perhaps just so they didn’t panic and increase the chance of failure?

Or what if the pilot was certain that we would not survive whatever condition the plane found itself in? What would he say to the passengers? Would it be better to tell the truth and allow people to know their fate despite the fear or would it be better to allow them to die peaceful and ignorant?

I wonder if airline pilots philosophize… or if they workshop airline ethics?

California Trip Part I: I Am My Own Worst Travel Agent

I was in Southern California last week. I had some interesting experiences. For example, I am my own worst travel agent nightmare. Heading for a week in Pasadena, I booked a flight from Tri-Cities to Santa Ana. I mistakenly thought that the John Wayne Airport (Santa Ana) was the Burbank airport.

Santa Ana is actually south of Anaheim, which is considerably south of Los Angeles, which is south of Pasadena. I was almost as close to San Diego as I was to Pasadena! Now add to that the fact that I booked a car from Advantage Rent-a-Car, which was several miles from the airport, despite Expedia.com saying it was located “at the airport terminal”. What they really meant it turns out is that customers have to call for a shuttle that picks customers up at the airport terminal and takes them to the middle of nowhere.

When I called for a shuttle, the oh-so-helpful and friendly representative from DisAdvantage informed me that they had no cars. None. I had a reservation… but they had no cars. They suggested they could take me to my hotel and then bring me my car later, if I was willing to do that. But they weren’t willing to drive my car to Pasadena! (Rightfully so, since it is – according to yahoo maps – an hour north!)

They said I was welcome to wait in their office for a car and that they would give me the first one back. Luckily, someone showed up with a car shortly after I arrived at the office. And it was a better car than I had ordered. It was a pretty nice little silver 2003? Chrysler Sebring. So off I went!

Then I realized there was another reason I am my own worst travel agent nightmare. The flight I had booked, in connection with the wait for my car, had me heading for Pasadena at exactly 4:05 on Tuesday afternoon on the most jam-packed highway in the known world. I-5 in Los Angeles. Now, this highway has cars that have been stuck in traffic jams so long that some parts have formed strata similar to the Grand Canyon. There are miles and miles of dead people sitting in cars that haven’t moved since 1970. (See picture at left.)

Eventually, I got to Pasadena. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Leaving the Country or at Least the State

I’m headed to Pasadena for a week starting Tuesday. Either I will find a good wifi spot or I won’t. And if I don’t, this site may look even less updated from my end than it has for the past week. (I was also out of town for part of the week last week but without any internet at all.) Hopefully things pick up shortly. In the meantime, enjoy the Daily Show’s online clips. There’s some pretty darn funny stuff there. In fact, now that I don’t have cable, it’s the one thing I miss. (The weird thing about that is, when I did have cable, I didn’t watch it.)