brain

I’m responsible. Three years ago I bought a lightly used car.

It’s beige. Factory warranty in place. An economical family sedan.

Recently, the car needed service. I know this because a light was blinking at me. Prudent, responsible, practical car owner I am, I immediately decided to schedule an appointment.

Can I call ahead? Nope. No, I can’t.

No big deal; they’re busy I’m sure. Busy giving responsible car care to responsible car owners. I’ll help them out. I’ll be efficient. I’ll use their automated web form.

It’s not like I had a choice.

In another life—outside of routine maintenance checkups for my transportation chamber—I also design user interfaces. Sometimes specifically concerning web forms. And when it comes to web forms, here’s a basic rule I’d like to remind the world of: if I do something wrong, tell me how to fix it.

Or better yet, make it so I can’t do something wrong.

How did that appointment setting go, Josh? Glad you asked. I’ve recreated the event, for posterity.

And somewhere, a code monkey thinks, “Who’s dumb enough to get the date format wrong?”

Well code monkey, may I respectfully suggest that the question should be, “Can I write this so there is no wrong date format?”

My car is fine, by the way. Thanks. Seatbelt tensioner.

Safety first.

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Every once in a while a brand spends a lot of money and time to get something totally, completely, gloriously wrong. The best part is when you can tell they are completely oblivious to how totally, completely, gloriously wrong they are.

Typically this happens when a big, clunky brand decides they need to get “hip” and “cool” with the young folks. Think Mentos. Or Sunny Delight. I don’t think it can be overstated how difficult it is to get something like this so perfectly wrong. To miss the cultural sweet spot so subtly and perfectly that it becomes unintentionally brilliant parody is truly a rare thing.

Well, behold. The folks at Miracle Whip have created what I predict will be the next accidentally hilarious blockbuster marketing whiff.

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Last night I bought tea from a company I’d never heard of. Expensive tea. That I didn’t need.

What would make me do such a thing? Two things.

1. I like tea
2. The design of the packaging and the design/voice of the website

And once on the site, I found myself buying the most expensive option they had (two teas and some prints-just for fun).

If you think about it, this is a minor marketing miracle. I had no clue if this tea is good. I had heard no word of mouth. I found the site by chance.

Yet they turned me from a stranger into a customer without spending a penny.

The good news is that this is a miracle almost any brand can achieve if they have the courage to give a good designer the freedom to create something special.

And I am standing by.

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Sometimes it can be difficult selling creativity in a culture that is intoxicated with technology. Among marketers there is an almost irresistible attraction to all that can be counted, measured, tracked, duplicated, packaged. So every once in a while it is nice to be reminded that despite all the astonishing things our machines can do, making art is not one of them. 

We still need our peculiar tastes, foibles, insights, biases, quirks, imperfections, flashes of inspiration, randomness, curiosity that make us humans capable of creating things that can make other humans feel something. Yes, there are elephants that paint and computers that write poetry, but mercifully it seems nothing can make you laugh or cry or think more than a human artist doing what human artists do. 

For instance one of the most powerful songs I’ve ever heard is Johnny Cash’s remake of NIN’s “Hurt”—particularly knowing that it was one of the last songs he recorded before he died. It’s a great example of talented artists making the countless subtle and surprising choices required to create something moving and original.

Meanwhile the good folks at Microsoft spent years developing a piece of software that allowed a computer to do in mere seconds what often takes weeks for a team of recording engineers, arrangers, producers weeks to do. You sing, and it writes and arranges a song around your melody. It’s called Songsmith and, in its way, it is a wonder of technology.

But listen to Johnny Cash’s version and then listen to Microsoft’s version and tell me which you want making your creative marketing decisions for you, man or machine?

Or:

And in case that isn’t enough evidence for you, perhaps these Microsoft versions of familiar songs will do the trick.

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Hey, Little Guy! Aw, that’s cool you’re on my scrumptious Nabisco cookie package.

Except for the fact you look like a freaking hatchet fish! Ack!

Did the folks at Nabisco think their sweet little cookie dude would give me recurring nightmares? Probably not. 

Further proof that no marketer can plan for everything.

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I awlyas tghouht slpeling was ipmotrant.

I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. Aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno’t mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. In sohrt, the hamun mnid is an ainamzg tool taht dosen’t need mcuh coentxt to unsatendrd vrey sbltue masseegs.

The leossn for tsohe of us who comainmtcue for a linivg? Wehn it coems to yuor megasse, don’t wrroy so mcuh auobt whheetr “tehy’ll get it.” Instaed wrroy aobut mainkg srue taht the mesgsae itlsef is fcanasiitng and wroth popele’s aiteonttn. If it is, it won’t mettar how otbsue the dveeliry is, tehy’ll get it.

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I have long pondered the meaning of supermarket circulars. You know you find them among those hundred of pages of crap that fall out when you pick up the Sunday paper? (To those of you under 30 or reading this in the future on your holographic brain receptors—the “Sunday paper” is/was a large stack of dead trees dropped on your front steps by someone driving a crappy car very early in the morning. It is/was full of printed content 90% of which is/was of no interest to you and 100% of which is/was 16 hours old by the time you looked at it. Its search functionality, by the way, is/was dreadful.)

Anyway. These supermarket circular seem pointless. Do we really need to be reminded that supermarkets sell food? “Wow, this supermarket sells grapes and milk! Wait a minute, this other supermarket sells Milk and eggs. I should really go there. But I really like grapes, what a conundrum”. Sure they give you prices for each of the items, but does anyone know what a good price is for mashed potatoes?

After receiving 4,160 supermarket circulars in my life. (2 a week for 40 years), I finally came upon one that actually made me want to read it. Instead of unappetizing, ½ inch photos of raw meat, I was drawn into reading smart, interesting stories that just happened to be about food.

Trader Joe’s completely reinvented a form of a media that is as old as dirt, and used it as a way of differentiating themselves from the rest. Oh, and that actually made me go to their store and buy stuff.

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All general couth for reining in harebrained money makers can now be ignored after stumbling upon a series of workout videos for “indie rockers.” Finally! A fitness program speaking to a previously marginalized, nebulous demographic.

The MySpace page lets us know we can expect “exercise with a side of mosh pit.” 

Just so no one feels left out, there are separate indie rocker cardio, pilaties, and yoga programs (yes yoga, the ancient Hindu meditative discipline being taught by a person named “Chaos.”) Tattoos and heavy eyeliner appear mandatory.

I guess if you’re an “alternative”, hippie-hating yoga instructor with a touch of Gwen Stefani adoration the “indie rocker” prefix on “workout” doesn’t seem trite or cliché. Really, what’s missing from this formula are Edge shaving gel, Mountain Dew, and Taco Bell. Screw it, I say throw a big XTREME logo on the whole thing and start counting the checks.

Should this be a success, I see no more excuses for choosing core entrepreneurial spirit over hocking flea-market trash. Sell-out, move up, count paper. Rich dullards are still rich.

With that, I’d like to announce my depature from Nail to open a Domino’s pizza franchise.

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