The Zombification of Us All

Maxi-clickage.

What Business Is It of Yours?

I'm a little surprised by what has become a routine outcry among my friends in the design community. It's like every time a company comes out with a redesigned logo, they have to do it gingerly, carefully, calculatedly and nearly scared, knowing that a huge storm of criticism is about to be unleashed. Starbucks' CEO has to release a minute and a half video explaining the evolution of its iconic "siren" logo? Of course it didn't change the fact that designers the world over are up in arms. And I don't doubt for a second that Starbucks knew it was coming and welcome it. "This buzz is going to be great for us," someone said in Seattle.

Did The Gap suffer slumping sales after the online backlash that compelled them to drop their logo change? Did the people making all the noise even shop at The Gap? Gap showed extreme spinelessness during that uproar. I hope Starbucks doesn't yield.

If I had a company, I would change the logo overnight, without fanfare and without pandering. Not so much as a press release. Just send the sign crews out and get it done on the storefronts and swap out the in-store stuff as the old stuff runs out. Without focus-grouping and without crowd-sourcing. Starbucks is Starbucks. Your average Starbucks consumer might someday look at the cup and go, "Hmmm - they changed the cup a little," and then never give it a second thought.

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But we live in Insta-World^TM, in this consumer-driven, conversation-intense environment where the slightest misstep, or perceived misstep, is amplified and bounced around the world in seconds, where everyone's an expert and a company is nearly paralyzed with fear to make any move. And if they get criticized, they must hurry to the defense and engage a team of brand reputation management specialists to reply to negative tweets or blog posts or Facebook updates. Hurry! Scrub the wires for any negative mention that might hurt us.

You know what, big brands? They're just a bunch of noisemakers trying to make noise. For every whining baby out there making a stink about your products or service, there are likely a thousand loyal and satisfied customers you will never hear from. You go ahead and do what you can to alleviate legitimate gripes and resolve obvious issues. That's just smart business and wise customer service. Businesses were doing that long before social media came into relevance.

Brand loyalty is a wonderful thing. I'm not a Starbucks guy, but I know plenty of people in love with the stuff. They're not going anywhere. But if they want to chime in and tell you what to have as your company icon? That's when you tell them they might be happier with a cup of coffee from 7-Eleven.

You May Not Leave Gawker

It couldn't have happened to a more deserving group. Gawker, the flagship blog of the Gawker media empire, was hacked, with hundreds of thousands of emails and passwords made available to the public. Maybe it's millions, I don't know. But mine was among them and I've been changing most passwords this week just to be safe. I hadn't logged into Gawker in probably two years, the level of cynicism and sarcasm beyond what even an ass like myself was willing to engage in too often. I could not play with those kids. It is the Big Leagues of Dickishness, and I am only a farm-club player. I can't live in full-time snark. It's fun as a hobby and something I dabble in out of my own frustration with not being able to rule the world as its benevolent dictator, but it can get into your soul if you play with it too seriously. Kind of like Satanism. It's fine on the weekends, but once you start drawing pentagrams in the kitchen on a Wednesday morning, well, you're only a couple steps from sacrificing virgins. 

The commenter community at Gawker is nothing like the YouTube comment community. On YouTube you expect little more than name calling, insults, blatant spam and expletives, all usually spelled poorly or typed in Middle School Text Speech. On Gawker, it's more like a giant convention hall of would-be comedians who also happen to be the most smug, snarky and snide group you will ever encounter. In fact, Gawker states, "You need to audition to become a commenter." That was half the fun of dropping in on a Gawker thread. Some of the comments were hilarious one-liners and rapid-fire jabs just dripping with the kind of cruel comedy usually reserved for celebrity roasts. And I'm pretty sure it was that attitude of superiority that caused the hacker collective Gnosis to attack them.

So I thought now would be a good time to renounce the Church of Gawker. I got my "You'd better change your password" email from the administrators of the site, and I complied. But then I wanted out. Hang up my black robe and turn in my goblet of goat's blood. No such luck. From Gawker's recently modified FAQ:

How can I delete my account?
We understand how important trust is on the web, and some of you may wish to delete your Gawker Media account. Currently account deletion is not available. We will, however, give you this option as soon as possible.

That is the biggest load of corporate bullshit I have ever read. I know because I often write it. What Gawker is saying between the lines here is:

Look, if we let everyone bail right now we'd be in a world of hurt. We know you're pissed and we understand you want to leave, but we're not going to let you. We covet this list of users as our lifeblood. It is one of the things that tells advertisers how valuable we are. A mass exodus right now would screw us bad. You may not leave. Maybe later, but not now.

I tried to look at this from an IT standpoint and I still think it's bullshit. OK, maybe Gawker is afraid that some of the hacked emails and passwords will cause other crafty types to just start deleting Gawker accounts willy-nilly. Yeah, I could see that. But if I've already changed my password and confirmed I am the account-holder, why can't I get out now? Are we waiting for EVERYONE in the Gawker community to change their passwords before we are allowed to opt out? That'll take a while. Gawker's true hope here is that when they finally announce you are allowed to opt out, you will have forgotten or forgiven the Hack Heard Round the World. And they'll bury the announcement somewhere deep on the site if and when that time comes.

If an IT guru knows differently, please let me know, but my own consultations with a few skilled coders have confirmed for me that this is a giant load of shit on Gawker's part. The time it would take to write and test a code allowing confirmed users out of Gawker would be minimal.

What Some Company's On-Hold Messaging Should Sound Like

And when I say "some company's" I mean the company mentioned in this little MP3. The game show host voice style is modeled directly from the actual company's on-hold voiceover guy, as is the horrendous accent he employs when he asks you to "marque el dos." The rest is just me being an angry customer who likely won't use this company again.

At the Company's One-Day Retreat

Make it larger by using your computer's pointer device and clicking anywhere on the image.

Everyone's a Creative

During a recent and sudden storm that blew through the neighborhood in a matter of minutes, a trash can was blown over on the side of the house. It fell in just the perfect way that it sheared off an outdoor spigot at the wall, so water was gushing all over the place. I shut off the main and went about searching for a plumber. Now sure, I probably could've fixed this myself. Eventually. I'm not above a little home repair and enjoy learning new things, but when you don't have water and you can't flush toilets or take a shower and it's 95 degrees outside, time is sort of against you if you're going to make a few runs to Home Depot in between checking forums and boards on how to fix this thing you've never tried to fix before. My trusty iPhone was fairly useless in finding a plumber but I'd long ago trashed all my Yellow Pages, certain they were bulky relics of another era, like encyclopedias. iPhone's first recommendation was very near to me, but they were new construction plumbers exclusively and wondered how I'd even found them. They recommended someone else. I called that recommendation who long ago got out of the plumbing business but recommended someone else. Turned out third time's the charm and they could fix this thing. "So the hose bib broke off?" asked the dispatcher. Uncertain of what a "hose bib" was, I pretended to know and said, "Yes."

Soon after, a large man with flowing white hair and a huge, matching beard appeared in a white van. Sort of a Santa Claus plumber, and I'm sure he gets some part-time gigs around the Holidays. He was the rare type of contractor who doesn't mind the homeowner looking over his shoulder as he explains what he does. Usually that will piss a guy off, but Santa was in a jolly mood. He said he could fix this thing with ease and he rummaged through his van for a long time. It wasn't long before I was starting to think, "This dick is trying to milk this job, taking way longer than he needs to for a simple 'hose bib.'"

He eventually explained, "I could've put a simple hose bib on there down where it broke off, but then you'd be thinking, 'That guy charged me for an hour and he hardly did anything.'" He went about connecting pieces and adding fittings, clamping this and cutting that as he continued, "See, if I just did the minimum, then you don't even get to see my talent." He said that word with pride. "Might as well give you your full hour's worth." He fashioned a nice little bunch of right angles that went up the wall above where the old spigot sat and locked it all down with anchors and brass, assuring me no silly, errant trash can would ever fuck with this bad-ass spigot again. As he was leaving, he said he does it that way so that when it comes time to replumb this old house (and that time is coming) I might think of the guy who took the time to do the job right rather than just what was needed to get it done. He can rest assured that I will. They call that Customer Service. It's a dying art.

It made me think of all the out-of-work creatives looking for work in a steadily dying industry. Or the struggling agency or consultancy wondering where the new business is. Maybe when we eventually take work outside of our chosen profession, we will still approach things with creativity, not resentment, finding the joy, and dare I say it, "art," in something as simple as stacking the clean dishes or sweeping a floor, finding the satisfaction in doing a job right. You don't have to make pretty, eye-catching designs or write compelling, witty copy to be considered "creative." And come to think of it, no one is going to edit this plumber's work. There will be no re-dos.

Guy's name was John. He was a creative.

Previously in Everyone's a Creative:

Production By Committee

Tree Trimmer Artists

Friday is Just Like Any Other Day Lately

Life on the dole is a curious existence. On the one hand, you desperately search for gainful employment, while on the other, you have time to do things you didn't have time for when you were driving one hour one-way to sit in a generic office building in a cube, pumping out copy for taskmasters more suited to pushing a broom in a warehouse than making strategic marketing decisions. (And even then, I'm not sure I would trust them to sweep correctly.) Here's some of what I've been up to.

Presented a series of logos to a Jacksonville-based company, which is funny, because I'm not a designer. They actually loved one and are already using it on their in-development, internal site. I didn't charge them, since they're friends. And yes, I impressed them with the much-maligned (and deservedly so) faded reflection feature. 

Went on a job interview down in Tampa. Met with the lead person, who said, "My team would like to sit with you and discuss some things." In walked 11 people, who proceeded to tell me about the company and pepper me with questions such as, "What superpower do you wish you had?" "What animal would you be?" and "Pirate or Ninja?" (I swear.)

Took delivery of a 50" Sanyo Plasma. (Long story, but it was a prize.) This thing is imposing. Our "old" TV is now in the bedroom, a 42" Sony Bravia. I am now Winston Smith from 1984, trying to escape the giant visages screaming at me about healthcare reform from every room.

Presented a very cool idea to my favorite grocery chain. It was received well and is now being passed up the ladder, where it will likely meet its death in committee. Currently it remains a secret, but if and when they adopt it, I will be its loudest and most constant promoter, to the point that you will say, "I wish he'd shut the hell up about that stupid f-ing grocery chain." I made the pitch in Powerpoint - and yes - I am ashamed of that.

Got an up-close, inside look into how homeowner's insurance works. Basically, you make a claim, based on the recommendation of a professional whose job it is to determine these things, and then you watch as the insurance company spends thousands of dollars to fight your claim. I understand the need on their part to guard against fraudulent claims, but when you approach a long-standing policy holder as someone trying to get one over on you, then you pretty much suck in the customer service area. Are you in good hands? Now there's a feel-good slogan that doesn't mean a damn thing. Fuck you, All-State.

Went to a home-brew party at the neighbors'. They're Americanized Brits, the husband being some sort of mad-scientist for a defense contractor. I think he makes lasers that shoot out of cats' eyes. He also makes a great beer, or three. I came up with about six names for his concoctions with accompanying label designs, which again is funny, because I'm not a designer. But to a physicist like my neighbor, if you're "in advertising," then you can do that thing with The Photoshop, right? And when a physicist tackles a hobby like home-brewing, the results are very impressive. I am pushing him to "Take it to the Next Level!"

Added actual ads to this site. Am I a sell out? Yes, but it doesn't pay off until you have actual traffic. 150 visitors a day is not going to fetch me any serious coin. Also added a "featured video" in the sidebar, which will rotate with stuff from my YouTube account when I get around to it.

I have been living like a European, riding my bike each day to the market and loading up an old child carrier / trailer I found on Craigslist with the day's groceries and the evening's dinner. So far, no stalks of celery or baguettes sticking up out of the bags in that grocery cliché seen in the movies. I'm even using those damned reusable canvas grocery bags. I justify this disgusting transformation in me as "exercise with a purpose." We need groceries and I need exercise. Ya know, two birds. I'm sure people think I'm being "green," when actually I'm just trying to get in shape for the Apocalypse.

It is estimated that as many as 75% of American homes have within them a guitar. Granted, that guitar may be stringless and in the attic, but it is still there. It is also estimated that as many as 80% of all American males have attempted at one time to learn to play the guitar*. I knew how not long ago, but life has a tendency to get in the way of such luxuries. Dusted off the dobro and greased the strings, trying to remember where to put my fingers to make it sing like it used to.

* Both estimates based on pure fantasy with no data to prove them.

It's the Little Things That Keep Them Coming Back

Anyone looking for a job knows all too well that there is no shortage of job sites out there wanting to help. Some are better than others.

Meat-Eaters Are People Too

If you don't eat meat, please skip this post, as I know how you vegans and vegetarians get when we primitive people talk about grilling the flesh of animals over open fires, blood dripping onto the coals, creating a sizzling sound that emits a puff of smoke so aromatic as to cause those who smell it to rip their clothes from their bodies and engage in marauding, raping and other expressions of gratitude to the gods of plumped heifers and gorged pigs.

Omaha Steaks. I encountered them for the first time last year, when a brother-in-law sent me some steaks for Christmas, as he knows I like to grill. He was in Iraq at the time, so preparing the steaks was done with some sense of patriotic duty. Coincidentally, I too had sent a similar package of Omaha Steaks to another brother-in-law for Christmas, he being of that age when you just don't know what to get the guy anymore, and you know he likes meat, so you give him dead steer. The steaks I received were beyond excellent, perfectly packaged in dry ice, obviously good and bloody in their plastic vacuum-sealed containers - and when they hit the grill, I watched as birds stopped chirping, cocking their heads toward the sizzling sound. A group of deer paused in their tracks, staring my way with hungry eyes, seriously contemplating abandoning their herbivore nature. Dogs all over the neighborhood stuck their noses high in the air and twitched their ears, whimpering, while squirrels bowed on high branches, telling their little squirrel children to stop, watch and learn. The sky directly overhead was suddenly darkened by clouds of eagles, falcons and hawks, circling in a mad frenzy, screeching in lust.

And the eating that night! Oh, it was grand! All hail the sacrificed beast of burden! Raise a toast in honor of his noble death, which has provided us with a carnal and primitive feast, the memory of which shall live forever! Omaha had delivered a most wonderful steak, and we were well pleased. Our dog, Roman, still recounts that evening to whatever other dog will listen, and the other dog will drool and chase its tail and finally slump to the floor in resignation, realizing that to hear the tale of the Steak from Omaha is nothing at all like eating it. And Roman will slump with the other dog, and say, "It was the emails and phone calls that put a stop to the Steak from Omaha. And they only let me have one tiny bite." He then sighs loudly and closes his eyes.

All it took was one order, sent to a brother-in-law in St. Louis, and Omaha Steaks has since hounded me daily by email and phone, trying to get me to take the next step on the road to becoming a 33rd Degree Omahan. I politely tell the phone solicitors, "No thanks," and hang up before they can say the next line in their script. The emails go to the SPAM folder and get deleted without opening. I finally found the "stop sending me emails" link and unsubscribed. Not that I ever did "subscribe," but an email address was required for online ordering, naturally. Of course then I got an email telling me how sorry they were that I unsubscribed and "Won't you please take one final look at these great offers on juicy meats for the holidays?"

Omaha Steaks, you have a great product. I know where to find you if and when I decide to buy more of your steaks. But the "if" part of that equation grows iffier every day, as you have gone from a place to get good steaks to an annoying and constant presence in my life. That won't win you any friends around here. It might even make you an enemy.

Not Exactly Mom & Pop - But Better Than a Big Box

It's almost summer, so yard work and home repair are picking up. Some ceiling fans on the back porch needed new blades, sagging after too many humid summers spinning. So naturally, like a dumb American, I went to Lowe's and bought two sets of blades for $25 each, the red-vested salesman assuring me that they were "universal" and indeed the packaging indicated the same. "Only ones we have and they should work," he said. Get them home and they don't line up with the brackets that hold the blades. Take them back to Lowe's. Get a refund. Go to Home Depot across the street. (Lowe's and Home Depot always do this, just like Walgreen's and CVS like to set up new stores at opposite corners of a busy intersection.) This time I brought the bracket to avoid the same mistake. Fan department guy says, "No, don't have that size. But you can buy a set of brackets along with the blades, but by the time you do that, you may as well buy a whole new fan." Sensing my reluctance to do that, he said, "You know where you should go? Dan's Fans up the street." "Think he's open Sundays?" I asked. "He'd better be if he wants to make any money," said the orange-aproned man.

Dan's was open, spinning fans in the window announcing that fact before I ever saw the neon "Open" sign. The parking lot of the little strip mall was fairly bare, and upon entering, I now made up the entire clientele of the store.

Two hundred fans hung overhead, at least a third of them spinning, and yet there wasn't a sound from one of them. Blades in hundreds of styles hung from the walls and I knew the guy at Home Depot had sent me to fan heaven. I suspected the prices were going to be extravagant, noticing one beautiful model that had two heads that spun sideways like propellers marked at over $1,000.

The only other person in the store was a white-haired man who was on the phone behind a counter. He eventually approached me. I held out my dirty old bracket. "Need a couple sets of blades that'll fit this." He examined it and offered that while it was an unusual size and rightly guessed that it was from an outdoor fan, he could sell me some new blades that came from units that they'd sold but the buyers wanted different blades. "Not plastic like you should use for outdoor," he added, "But they'll last you five or six years." I noted to the gentleman that there wasn't a sound in the store, even with all these fans running. "Dan's fans aren't like other fans," he said, going on to give an explanation about dual motor bearings that I half-understood.


He disappeared into the back of the store and returned with two sets of the orphaned blades, still in their packaging.

Eight dollars per set. Paid with cash. Hand-written receipt. A Sunday afternoon time warp.

Long live Dan's Fan City.

Good Customer Service is Just an Email Away

The Germans are proud of their beer. The world is proud of Germany’s beer. The gods of wine and beer are proud of Germany’s beer. And many little towns across Germany have their own breweries. The smallest, most dilapidated brewery in Germany could still make a better beer than any giant beer corporation in the U.S. The Germans were making beer long before Columbus was even born, and long before he had ever approached Ferdinand and Isabella about the possibility of sailing west. The King and Queen probably sent Columbus off with his ships' holds full of German beer. At Columbus' farewell party, it is rumored that the following conversation was overheard.

“Ahhh, those Germans. Their beer is good, yes my queen?”

“The best, Ferdinand. The best. Ahhh…there he is, the guest of honour. Chris! Come here, I bid you.”

“Your Grace,” he bowed, “I must declare again how deeply indebted I am to the mercy and benevolence of your Worship, to that of the King as well, for bestowing upon me the great honour of sailing on this journey for the noble and righteous flag of Spain.”

“Right." Isabella was tipsy and not in the mood for Chris' sycophantic groveling. She held up a brown bottle. "Chris, do they have beer like this in Italy?”

“No, Your Highness. The Germans have a way.”

“Very well then, you shall have a case of German beer aboard all of your ships for the merriment of your officers and crew.”

“Your charity is most highly treasured by me, your humble servant. Can we make it a couple of cases, Your Majesty?”

Many years ago, in that faraway land, I had the fortune of being able to drink beer at the age of 14. Some may consider that a misfortune, but in a country where they give babies beer, it was no big thing. All of us underage Americans drank beer, and to misquote the Most Interesting Man in The World, "We didn't always drink beer, but when we did, we preferred Licher." (Licher's not-so-cool slogan, "From the heart of nature" is weak, but they've stuck with it for decades, which says something for consistency, I suppose.)

I've trolled the beer forums and found countless people pining for this brand, to include soldiers who were stationed in the region where Licher is made as far back as the early 60s. They leave comments like "Why isn't this beer in the US???? The best beer in the world and it's not in the US. Wish I can get some now," and similar whining. A few have found a bottle or two in New Jersey, but only of the wheat variety. Others had said, "No use contacting them on their website, they don't respond." I thought I should test that assertion.

So I went to Licher's website and found the "Kontakt" form and sent them a kind note, suggesting that they might make millions of dollars in the US beer market. The rumors that Licher does not respond to web inquiries are false, or maybe you just have to know how to kiss ass. I peppered my query with words like, "Surely you are aware of the popularity of your beer here in America," and "People are upset that they cannot obtain this world class beer here," and I told them they might be missing out on monstrous monetizing opportunities. That was sent last Thursday. Today in my inbox I have a reply.

Dear Dave,

Thank you very much for your mail and interest in Licher beer.

The Licher Brewery belongs to the Bitburger Brewing Group and the export business is all coordinated from Bitburg. Your e-mail was forwarded to me from the Licher Brewery.

Unfortunately we are not yet represented in the States with Licher Beer. We have plans to introduce Licher Pils beer in the near future but the negotiations are not yet finalized.

As soon as I have some more news I will let you know.

Kind regards,

Margit Mertes

And a hearty 'Danke schön' to Ms. Mertes for her prompt response, and nice job on the part of Licher to get my email into the appropriate hands. I trust we are on our way toward a healthy trade with the Bitburger Brewing Group. I don't know what sorts of red-tape are holding things up, but surely we can cut through this nonsense quickly. We have proven demand.

I like what Licher is doing with their brand. They have a balloon. They have a very nice online shop. (No sales outside of Germany, sadly.) They're sponsoring some sort of Festival in June. They of course have downloadable icons and sounds. (No, they aren't on Twitter yet.) I'm sure it's only a matter of time before they figure out how to get some of their fine product over here and really start raking in some cash. If anyone wants to help, we can start our own social media beer lobby and begin pressuring Licher to start moving on this. Or you can go to Licher's kontakt form and say "I'm hearing great things about Licher Bier. Why can't I have some in the US?"

Or maybe I'll just become a beer distributor. Cancel those as-yet-finalized negotiations, Margit. I can move this product for you.

Like a Good Neighbor, State Farm Acts Like They Don't Know You

State Farm Insurance, the "good neighbor" people, have decided that Florida's just too risky a place to offer homeowner's insurance, what with the hurricanes, wildfires, falling space debris and whatnot.

One insurance company's weasely exit is a local independent's entrance, who've begun running radio ads for "Dropped By the Farm." It looks like a hastily assembled operation, complete with sad logo and sad stock photography of a sad couple reading a sad letter from State Farm, a sad company.

Dear Mr. & Mrs Loyal Customer Who Always Paid Their Dues on Time and Never Filed a Claim:

We have enjoyed taking your money here at State Farm, but from now on, you're on your own. Seems hurricanes and stuff like that are cutting into our massive profits and that shit don't wash at State Farm.

Fuck you very much.

Goodbye.

State Farm

Our super-tanned, anorexic, not-gay, very-happily-married Governor, Charlie Crist, is getting in some parting jabs at the mafia-esque State Farm: "They probably charge about the highest rates in the state, anyway," Crist said after State Farm announced its exit strategy. Ooooh! Buuuuurn!

Also, State Farm is recalling 800,000 Teddy Bears because the eyes come off and choke little babies to death. The bears are called "good neigh bears." Seriously. That's as stupid a name as State Farm's logo is a hideous mass of twisted red trash.

Way to go, State Farm.

You Could Spend Your Life Listening to Gurus

So you just left SXSW and you're down in the dumps 'cause now you have to actually go to work and pretend to apply all the fascinating things you "learned" at the conference? Why bother going back to work? There's another conference going on right now in NYC! (And look! They used the tired old "silhouetted young business people doing business in a take charge, business-like way" image. BONUS: The take charge business-doers are reflected in the floor in a very serious Web 2.0 way.)

Your average social media guru has 15,000 followers on Twitter. (Thankfully, I'm not following them.) But he is, in short, a bullshit artist. He's got his hands in every new thing that comes around, but I don't think he could show you a single case study of how any of it has "worked" for a client. He was one of the first to tell everyone they needed a blog. And then corporate blogging failed. He was early on the podcast bandwagon. And then corporate podcasting failed. He thought everyone should create their own branded social networks, until it became obvious that not too many people wanted to join a brand's "community." Undeterred, he created numerous fake profiles and spent his days "seeding" comments on forums and blogs. His clients employ him for as long as it takes to uncover his game, or until his iron-clad three-month contract is over. He is adept at making himself look important and in another time he'd have been the perfect carpet-bagging seller of Dr. Swindle's Cure-All Tonic.

Now maybe there are some people out there selling social media consulting services who are actually telling clients stuff that their teenage kids couldn't tell them. Maybe there are "strategies" that aren't obvious to the average Joe, Jim, Khalid and Britte. (Actually, I can think of a couple of practitioners who are on the right path. They don't create the illusion of mystery and the're upfront with their audiences.)

Those of us who deride the consultants and their magic shows are branded "old-school" or "resistant." But I've seen nothing from the new school that warrants four conferences a month and a growing army of "experts."

There is no old vs new in this. It's just new packaging for an old product. The principles should remain the same: treat your potential customers with respect; make them laugh or tug their heart-strings as you're getting their attention; don't hide behind a bunch of fine print; and if they become customers and then complain, resolve their problem, refunding their purchase in full if need be.

Call it "the conversation" if you have to, but it's nothing more than old-school customer service.

How to Use Social Media: Another Blogger Weighs In

Much has already been written on better blogs (and spoken about at numerous conventions) on the subject of social media and the marketer's place within them. My turn. Nothing said here will be anything that brighter minds haven't already thought about; I'm just giving my take as a marketer.
Let's start with: What the Hell is Twitter?

I was skeptical even to adopt it as a user. I've always fed my latest blog posts to it, but to actually "tweet" seemed silly. I used it as a one-way news feed: "Go here and read my blog." But as more people started to follow me, I started to follow more people. I've quickly un-followed the people who are using Twitter as a blatant marketing tool. The people I follow tweet the oddest things. Some are hilarious, some mundane, some informative and others as random as possible. It eventually occurred to me that this group of people, from Dave Matthews to Bad Banana to Daryl Ohrt, were on Twitter to be friends, to have contact, to share information and to just basically hang out. It's not unlike early Internet chatrooms. Daryl also uses it to communicate with colleagues and to occasionally plug his brand, Plaid. In the case of someone like Matthews, Twitter is a tool for maintaining contact with his customer/fan base; the Dave Matthews freaks who trade bootlegs of live shows or love hearing about snow in the Virginia mountains at Christmas via Dave's tweets.

The few I follow, (some 40-odd) will on occasion mention a product or a company. It might be a good mention and it might be bad, and it can even be neutral. "I just used Acme Instant Hole and it sucks," or "Anyone looking for a good instant hole, Acme is awesome," or "I'm looking for a good instant hole. Anyone know one?"

Here's the only place, as far as I can tell, where a marketer has any business being on Twitter. If you subscribe to any sort of Twitter alert, you can easily find out when Acme Instant Hole is being tweeted. And you can jump in when it is mentioned. But will anyone ever actually follow Acme Instant Hole? Very unlikely.

And here's where marketers fail: They don't see the revenue stream. And here's what they don't want to hear: There is no revenue stream. Corporate blogs failed for the same reason. No one wants to write a company blog (and even fewer want to read it) that amounts to nothing more than spider food, especially when you have the comments feature disabled. This is about customer service, brand management and the "taking care of the little things" that no one wants to do. You want revenue? You want sales? Good customer service breeds sales. It's foundational. Everyone knows that. Treat me right and I'm likely to be loyal to you.

In preparing this post (which is a painstaking process involving sitting out on the back porch with a glass of wine and thinking about this post) I was trying to think of a product or service to which I'm loyal. The first one that came to mind was Formula One Firestone. It's a garage just down the road where we take the cars if they need help beyond the routine oil change. They have never been unable to fix a problem, their walls are lined with certifications and they are straight with me. I'm sure I can find cheaper car service somewhere, but this crew has proven itself. Craig, Al and Pete lead the show down there. I'm not good with names, but I know their names, and I see them maybe once every five months on average between our two aging cars.

I saw a couple of tweets from Bill Green, a social media advocate if ever there was one, where he scathingly and humorously rips United Airlines three or four new ones for screwing up his flight plans and failing to help him resolve them. All within the allotted 140 characters. Now if I'm United, my TweetBeep goes off and I go find this guy. I reply: "Hey, Sorry to hear about your experience. Hit me back by DM and I'll give you my email addy. See if we can't fix this.(Yeah, I work for UA)" That was 140 characters exactly. Bill invited that discussion by dissing my brand and I responded. You can call that "engaging the consumer" at your next conference speaking engagement.

If you're Bill in the above scenario, you're freaking out that a giant, uncaring corporation just found you badmouthing them and is now trying to fix your problem. On Twitter no less. You are definitely DMing me and getting my email addy. Chances are better now that Bill might fly United again, even if I can't fix his problem to his utmost satisfaction. I was there. I showed him I'm listening. What does that cost United? Hell, I'll do it for you, United, as your highly-paid social media consultant. But the money I save you in salvaged customers might well offset the salary and perks (free flights for life, first-class) that you pay me. Will Bill now follow United on Twitter? Who cares? Numbers of followers is not the point, unless you're tweeting stuff like, "First five people to reply get free round trip tickets to anywhere in the continental US."

Twitter is the latest social media application that marketers will fast ruin. Look back a year or two. What happened to MySpace? It got overrun with tools and shills, getting in your face or spamming you. Where did everyone go? Facebook. And they'll be leaving that soon, too. Anyone use AIM anymore? Yeah, I didn't think so. All those "buddies" you kept getting who were really companies? Skype? Had its day. We run from the marketers - because they're always marketing; always looking for a way to slap us in the face with a banner or yell at us with some unsolicited blurb. Or worse, they pretend to be our "friends."

They'll find a way to find you. (We always do.) But until the marketer stops using social media to sneak up and pounce on the target, the target will continue to find new places to hang out, running from them.

You want to use social media? Look at them this way: social media are places where you can strengthen the ties you have, repair the ones that are severing and maybe in the process (but only by luck) build a few new ones.

And Twitter, you don't really have much hope of becoming a money-making operation in the traditional sense of selling ads. Most Twitter users don't even see the Twitter.com site; they're using mobile devices or second-party widgets embedded in their iGoogle homepages. You're going to have to "think outside the box" since you already blew your shot at making serious money when you turned down Facebook's $500 million offer. Whatever you do as you explore how to make money from this fast-growing application du jour, take a lesson from those who've blown it in front of you: Stay out of the users' faces.

Even as marketers, what do we always think of the marketer who is trying to force his way in? We think, "Get out of my face!" Here's an opportunity for us to do just that.

Fast Food Chain Trying To Psyche Me Out

Someone's always trying to get in your head these days. From the waitresses who touch your arm and call you "hon" in an attempt to get bigger tips, to the grocery store baggers suggesting, "Is plastic OK?" when they used to ask, "Paper or plastic?"

In a fit of craving something to eat (often referred to as "hunger"), I just ate a pound of sodium at the Whataburger location around the corner from here. (For those not familiar, it's a Texas-based chain with tentacles throughout the South.) The style is: order at the counter, take a table-top number and someone will bring you your food when it's ready. So the guy brings me my Salt-Burger and Salt-Rings and says, "Thanks a lot. We'll see you tomorrow."

See me tomorrow? Genius. It's not like I'm a regular, but management has decided the seed should be planted. See you tomorrow.

No, you won't, but nice effort; an excellent attempt at creating loyalty. Unfortunately, I can only take one of those SaltSlabs^TM every so often.

It's The Little Things

Great ad, if you ask me. Simple headline, bold yet elegant art direction. The copy acknowledges the current economic situation. "You got laid off and you are going out on interviews. Wear a tie that says, 'I'm a serious candidate.'" I would've given the area below the knot a more symmetrical fold, thus adding the vague innuendo of....something. But still, that's a little thing.

I hate ties and will avoid wearing them unless they are absolutely required. There's just something about being choked that doesn't appeal to me. There is no function to a tie. It is a holdover from the days of frilly shirts, stockings and powdered wigs. It is merely a statement, an accessory, a custom that I hoped would be dead by now. I unfortunately own a few, none of which are as sharp as this Countess Mara tie.

The ad says, "available at Macy's." So go to the Macy's website and you will not find a single Countess Mara tie. Go to the Countess Mara store locator site (called Save The Gentleman) and enter my zip code and be met with, "Sorry, there were no stores found within 50 miles of that zip code." They don't even give me the option to increase the search radius, never mind the fact that there are at least three Macy's stores within 50 miles of my home.

Then, a visit to the Countess Mara website shows more examples of how Countess Mara is letting the little things slip. There's this confidence-instilling paragraph (emphasis mine):

THE COUNTESS MARA BRAND HAS SUCESSFULLY ESTABLISHED ITSELF AS THE SPECIAL OCCASION SOLUTION FOR MEN OF DISTICTION. COUNTESS MARA’S VISION OF EUROPEAN STYLE AND CONDUCT HAS HELPED DEFINE THE MODERN AMERICAN GENTLEMAN.

A simple spellcheck, Countess.

How about this?

IT IS THE LITTLE THINGS THAT TRANSFORM THE MAN INTO THE GENTLEMAN. THE ORDINARY INTO THE DIGNIFIED.

True, I suppose. And just as true when it comes to your web presence (and that of your suppliers) and how it integrates with your print campaigns. It's the little things. You are selling what are likely high-end ties, more expensive than most, and you are choking on the littlest of things. And you just might be going out on interviews soon.

You Can't Blame the Economy for This One

Bill Heard Chevrolet, the country's largest Chevy dealer, is done. The dealership issued the following statement as the reasons behind their demise: "...rising fuel prices, a product portfolio of mostly heavy trucks and sport utility vehicles, economic recession, unfavorable local market conditions for vehicle sales, the crisis in the banking and financing sectors."

Bullshit.

Before you read into this, "Oh, no! We're heading for a depression!" consider these facts, from The Orlando Sentinel's Steven Cole Smith.

• Bill Heard was the subject of 72 consumer complaints in the past 36 months, including 28 in the past year, according to records of the Better Business Bureau of Central Florida.
• A staff member at the Nashville, Tenn., Better Business Bureau was assigned full time to handle complaints against the local Heard dealership.
• GMAC Financial Services, General Motors' financial arm, refused to continue financing the inventory for some of Heard's stores.
• Heard has paid more than $280,000 in penalties and expenses in Georgia related to its trade practices and $183,000 in Tennessee.
• Florida regulators last year slapped a $400,000 fine on the Heard dealership in Sanford, and another in Plant City, for deceptive trade practices.

Said Automotive News Executive Editor Edward Lapham, "Heard has been a burr under GM's saddle for a long time."

Customer Service. It's so simple.

Here's the principle, sometimes referred to as the Golden Rule: "Treat others the way you want to be treated."

One less shady car dealer in this country won't be missed. What I will miss is one of Bill Heard's sales tools, a ridiculously enormous American flag flying along Interstate 4, seen here on Google's Street View and MSN's Bird's Eye View. This flag was so big it waved in slow motion.


And why is the Google Street View guy wearing a party hat and carrying balloons?

Bad Jazz and Incompetent Customer Service Reps

That's the Wachovia Difference!

Hey, Wachovia, I hope you're reading this.

You Suck with a capital S.

No, better yet, you SUCK with all capitals.

Don't tell me I'm not signed up for online banking when I am. Don't tell me I can't transfer to non-Wachovia accounts when I do it every month. Don't tell me I can't set up a transfer to an account not in my name when it's already done. And for the love of God, would you please find some hold music that isn't labeled, "Jazz Fusion Puke," ?

And since I just "shared my Wachovia experience," why don't you drop $25 in my account right about now?

Defiant Grocery Chain Says, "Ignore The Facts! Shop Here!"

Despite the fact that Publix is buying half of what remain of Albertson's Florida stores, Albertson's persists with desperate flyers (or is that "fliers?") like this, where "Angela" poses happily with a bouquet of (funeral?) flowers and the copywriter has done everything except underline the word "still."


On a recent trip to a soon-to-be-closed Albertson's store, I encountered such poor service that I abandoned my goods in the cart in an aisle and burned rubber to the nearest Publix.

Good riddance, Albertson's. You could not suck more.

How They Do Customer Service in Mexico

A job at work required that one of our artists try as best as possible to duplicate the font on the Mexican 100 peso note. After much searching, we were coming up empty. So I emailed Banco de Mexico and asked them what font they used. In less than 24 hours, this courteous reply was received (in English).Dear Sir,

Thank you very much for your interest in Banco de Mexico's web site. Regarding your request, we may inform you that the font used on the 100 pesos banknote was designed by our team in 1987 for Mexican banknotes and has been used in our banknotes since then. It was designed, deliberately looking for no resemblance with the commercial fonts available at that time, when Word Processors and personal computers were not as common as today. We do not know if now there is a commercial font similar to it. The new series with new design, which is starting to circulate, has a new font.

Hoping the information to be useful, we remain at your service.

Sincerely yours,
Banco de México

Our artist had already found a font that would work by the time this reply came in, but think about that. From a random query on their "contact us" page, they gathered the information from their art department and have me a courteous, comprehensive answer in very short order. Smart business.