God Advertises Beyond Billboard

I love those billboards that quote God. They appear more often in the South, just like Waffle House signs. While on a road trip to Florida, God spoke to me from above – on a 30-sheet billboard, to be exact. Since then I’ve kept a list of his wise words and also started drafting new ones with some friends (Jason, Emily - bless you). Below are the words of God. Keep an eye out when on the road. And remember, buckle up!

“Have you read my #1 bestseller? There will be a test.”
“Hamburger for dinner on Friday? Have fun in hell.”
“When I call you up, it won’t be on the telephone.”
“Your crazy ex-girlfriend isn’t the only one watching your every move.”
“We need to talk.”
“You know that ‘love thy neighbor’ thing? I meant it.”
“Here Easter bunny, bunny, bunny…Remember when Easter was about ME?!!”
“Follow me.”
“Pontius Pilot never flew an airplane.”
“Where else is bread and wine on the house every day?”
“Knock, knock.” (Who’s there?) “Hallow.” (Hello who?) “Hallow be my name.”
“I can make a blind man see. Can you?”
"Turn here for guidance."
(Achoo!) “Bless Me.”
“I’ll be back.”_- Arnold Schwarzenegger – God
“The real Supreme Court meets up here.”

Icy Fashionistas

I love how footless tights are so in right now. Seriously. Rarely do I jump aboard trendy bandwagons, but for this one I'm on the edge of the road with my thumb in the air, ready to hop on.

The thing is though...figure skaters have been wearing footless tights for years. They're called Mondors, my friends! And I've got them a plenty. Black, navy, nude - you name it.

For once, it seems the world of figure skating is ahead of (or even in the same time zone) as the fashion world. I hope to God this doesn't mean that feathered and sequined costumes are next. Remember that Oksana Bauil pink bird number? She wore it well, but that only belongs on the ice. Or in Vegas.

Trick or Treat. Or Meat.

Happy Halloween. I’ll trade you my Twix for your Tootsie Rolls. Deal? Diets have no place near trick-or-treat bags. That includes fad diets, which I guess are an oxymoron. If the diet really worked, it wouldn’t disappear after a few years.

I thought Atkins was for the birds, but I stand corrected. Apparently it’s for the cats. As I was reading the A.M. Metro on the train, I came across this report:

“A Scottish cat named Fidget used to tip the scales at 22 pounds. But the feline’s owner put him on a meat-rich diet, and Fidget’s been shedding the weight ever since. Fidget’s owner made the change – an Atkins Diet for cats – when the 18-year-old cat could no longer crunch dry biscuits. Fidget now weighs a respectable 11 pounds.”

This whole situation is much too, oh I don't know, anthropomorphic. My crystal ball says Fidget won’t last through the holiday season. Why?

A. He’s 18, which I think is like 1,254 in human years.
B. Like I said, the poor feline is old. His teeth might as well be peanut brittle. So he's given a diet based on human habits? While you’re at it, give this cat some dentures. I suggest Poli-grip. That way he can tear into that ribeye without embarrassment or fear.
C. His diet consists largely of meat. Have you had his LDL cholesterol checked lately?
D. His name is Fidget. Studies show that cats with wonky names are less likely to live past 18 than those named “Mungo Jerry,” “Grizabella” or “Felix.”

The Gap in Advertising

Easy does it, social scientists. This isn’t about the gap in advertising, but rather The Gap in advertising, as in the retail chain that totes jeans, jackets, flip-flops and more. From my point of view, its brand image is struggling something fierce.

The Gap is in the midst of an identity crisis not seen since…well, since a month ago when Chicago’s flagship Marshall Field’s store officially became Macy’s. A moment of silence, please.

Thank you. Back to The Gap. Several years ago, the company was the leader of the pack in terms of creative, fashionable television ads. You may recall the highly entertaining ads featuring mini-musicals that launched in the late nineties. Dancers stretched across the screen rallying around the tagline “Everybody in Khaki” for example.

The company did and still does handle its advertising internally. But over time, those Bob Fosse-ish gems have been replaced with a chameleon-like mixture of marketing messages. And jazz hands are nowhere to be found.

Throughout spring and summer, Gap chanted color, color everywhere! I remember spotting a psychedelic Gap bus parked along the beach in Santa Monica. Cheerful Gap promoters handed out bright key chains and sold t-shirts in every color of the rainbow.

That strategy lasted all of six months. Maybe. You wouldn’t expect it to be wildly successful in NYC, where black rules the streets. But apparently the rest of the country wasn’t too quick to jump on the colorful bandwagon either.

The latest effort is all about the Skinny Black Pant. Cue Audrey Hepburn, stage left. The Gap clipped a scene from the delightful classic “Funny Face” and laid it over a rock-n-roll track. I love advertising, but it bothers me that they did this (even though the late Hepburn’s son consented to it). Some things are better left untouched. Frank Sinatra should not sell vacuums at all, much less posthumously. End of story.

Other Gap ads feature celebs or models sporting skinny black pants in an array of styles. It leaves me a little confused. Are they going for mod chic or grunge rock? Or old-school Michael Jackson (sans sparkly glove)? Maybe all of the above.

I’m predicting this campaign will help their sales – in New York, anyway. But the bottom line remains, The Gap needs to fill in the gaps in its splintering image. Because its current tagline could very well be “Everybody in Disarray.”

Ambush Marketing: You Say Guerilla, I Say Gorilla

The World Cup is all the rage all over the world, except here in Uncle Sam's backyard. With games full of non-stop action and warlike strategy, it's routine to see athletes soaring across the field full of sweat, passion and pain - and plenty of exaggerated pain as well. I fear Dennis Rodman missed his true calling.

Apparently the clashes rage not only on the field, but also in the corner corporate offices. The mega-media attention surrounding the World Cup means big bucks for sponsors and advertisers. And instead of dishing out red cards, they're taking away orange pants.

According to BBC News, "Up to 1,000 Dutch fans watched their side play Ivory Coast in their underpants on Friday after they were denied entry to Stuttgart's stadium for wearing orange trousers with the name of a Dutch brewery which was not an official sponsor. Faced with missing the game or ditching their orange lederhosen - given away by the brewery - they made the obvious choice. FIFA officials said the trousers were an attempt at so-called ambush marketing - where a company tries to gain free publicity - and that they had to act to protect the interests of sponsors."

The orange pants, apparently in the form of lederhosen, were part of a marketing plan developed by Bavaria NH, a (clever) Dutch brewery. Attached to the pants was a special lion's tail, the lion being the national emblem of the Netherlands. But with Anheuser Busch as one of the 15 official partners at the World Cup, FIFA frowned upon the tactic.

While this form of guerilla marketing left a few folks in the stands looking like gorillas, the fully-clothed fans far outnumbered them. An amusing tale! The incident is indicative of the growing trend of companies "owning" major events through sponsorships. And the fine print is becoming increasingly complex.

I love the creativity behind ambush marketing, especially in this event. They got solid press coverage in an inventive manner. But to be fair, FIFA is only right to play watchdog in order to protect its corporate partnerships. I don't think people mind seeing blanket advertising for Bud Light or Adidas at events like these, but when the sponsorships impose restrictions on what fans can wear, eat or drink, then one can only presume the lion will roar.

Zippity Do Dah (A Product Review!)

Another Fourth of July has come and gone. Booming fireworks have vanished only to leave a starry loneliness to the night sky. The remnants of Uncle Sam’s heyday – smoldering coals, patriotic balloons, and firecracker wrappers – are slowly fading away like a hopscotch game drawn in chalk.

Independence Day isn’t complete without a barbecue, and this year was no exception. It even welcomed an addition to the ever-expanding world of cooking utensils. Next to knives, tongs, whisks, basting brushes and spatulas, now sits the Corn Zipper.

This handy stainless steel apparatus slices corn kernels off the cob without the danger and imprecision offered by more common cutlery. It’s a perfect gadget for those who hate biting into corn on the cob. Though sadly, it leaves one wondering what to do with those little plastic yellow picks designed for (and modeled after) corn that has not been de-cobbed.

The Corn Zipper made its debut at the backyard bash my brother and I hosted the weekend of the Fourth. We had no trial runs before the party. After all, if the Zipper couldn’t stand the heat, it had no place in the kitchen. We purchased a dozen ears of corn and fired up the grill. Somewhere between husking the corn and sprinkling the salt, the Zipper went from conversation piece to culinary superstar. The commonplace grilling tools, scarred and shabby due to years of use, could do nothing but look on in envy of this shiny new toy.

But did it work? I’m pleased to say it stayed true to its claim, clipping kernels neatly onto a plate without slipping or cutting into the cob. It took a few tries to get the technique just right, but before long I was gladly zipping samples for all attendees to relish. My one complaint was that it takes off only one row (or column?) of kernels at a time. Had my party been any larger, carpal tunnel might have set in.

All in all, I give this product two thumbs up. For those who like to eat their corn daintily, please welcome the Corn Zipper. God bless America.