The Status Crow

Prime Time Directive: Swearing is Still a "No-No"

2010-08-09T16:35:00.000-07:00

In 1972, George Carlin spouted the "Seven Words You Can Never Say on Television". Nearly forty years later George has moved on, but television broadcasters have not. They're still bleeping out the words. Further proof that advertising isn't really free speech. http://yhoo.it/aKFcc8

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Attention, please ... Sherm Feller and Bob Sheppard Remembered

2010-07-11T20:47:00.000-07:00

You hear a man's voice--gravel-toned and clipped. He invites you to join him in the national anthem. You automatically stand up, remove your hat and begin to sing. When you're finished, you applaud, sit down and wait for his next words. Right field. Kirk Gibson. Right field.

You hear another man's voice--sonorous and rhythmic. He welcomes you and asks for your attention as the color guard gets into place. You stand up, place your hand over your heart for a few moments then begin to celebrate. He calmly cuts into the din. First base. Number 29. Rod Carew. Number 29.

You hear your own voice--soft and sad. You tell yourself that you're dreaming about baseball and the way it used to be. You remember the magical feeling of sitting in the stands moments before a game. You wish you could go back in time. You miss the smell of the fresh peanuts and the sound of the PA announcer.

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Hang Up the Banter

2010-06-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

As of 2010, thirteen current NBA franchises have never won the NBA championship. Six franchises have never even been to the NBA Finals. So, to those of you wearing purple and gold, please stop gloating for a moment and imagine how your b-ball brethren in the Clippers' camp feel. And to my Beantown homeys feeling a little green with envy, please hang up the banner banter and be glad that you're not living in snake-bitten Sacramento.

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Idol Thought

2010-05-26T23:58:00.000-07:00

Thousands tried out. Several dozen made it to Hollywood. Only one got the title. If you didn't catch the American Idol finale tonight here's what you missed: Ryan pimped the sponsors while guest stars like Chicago, Bret Michaels, and Janet Jackson sang their hits. Paula made an appearance. "America voted" - The boy rocker from the paint store took the prize away from the subway-singer, single mom. Simon said good-bye following an awkward tribute. A mixed bag, really ... but a fitting end to an otherwise forgettable season.

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Help. Police. Murder.

2010-04-23T16:00:00.000-07:00

Let's face it: Everything we see and hear on TV is borrowed interest of some kind. And more often than not the interest borrowed isn't paid off. The most recent example of this comes to us from AT&T.

With the "Rethink Possible" campaign featuring the signature song from the original Willy Wonka film, AT&T took an iconic tune and turned it way up to shill an idea even more outlandish than seeing a whangdoodle walk down Wall Street. Hold on everybody ... here it comes ... they want us to believe that their cell phone is the key to endless opportunities. Dare, I say, happiness. Hsaw goh! (That's hog wash backwards.)

Okay, I was sucked into the commercial the first time I saw (heard) it. The Wonka theme--Pure Imagination--plucked my heart strings silly, as I fondly remembered seeing the fabled Chocolate factory on the big screen as a kid. And I admit that I was charmed a bit by the crayon-born beasts as they performed their clever acrobatic cues. Charmed, that is, until the announcer chimed in--asking me to remember how I felt on my fifth birthday. Cut to a fast moving live-action animated logo sequence. Add the tagline. Out. Help. Police. Murder.

Speaking as a former five year old who grew up to be a marketing guy, I’m really upset. Upset that such a strong brand would stoop like this. Upset that an industry leader would pander to nostalgia so blithely. Upset that a global icon could be so obtuse. What's next? Bert and Ernie tweeting the people in their neighborhood? Dora vlogging her travels from her iPhone? Hello Kitty using the U-verse connection in her litter box? If these are the next stops on the AT&T renovated Wonkavator, then I’ll take the stairs.

Special thanks to Roald Dahl for writing the Willy Wonka story and to David L. Wolper Productions / Paramount Pictures for putting it on the big screen. My apologies to all for any copyright infringement in this blog.

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Why CarMax Works So Well

2010-03-19T22:45:00.001-07:00

It was Wednesday afternoon--in the middle of March. Scores of customers were waiting for a sales associate. From all the floor traffic, you'd never guess that I was in a car dealership ... especially now, during what has been called the worst economy since the Great Depression. However, there I was, in a car dealership, with thousands of vehicles and hundreds of customers. And, as one sales associate later told me, this was a "slow" day--for CarMax.

So what gives? Why are so many people willing to wait around in a used car warehouse for the next available associate when they can get a free 20-minute massage, cappuccino or two tickets to the local philharmonic just for walking into the dealership next door? Simply put: they know they'll get a great deal on a used car.

With CarMax, the price you see, is the price you pay--usually 30-35% less than what other dealers might be charging for the same vehicle. And the price is always at or a hair below "blue book" value. There's no haggling with the sales rep. No back and forth with the finance or sales manager. No MSRP plus this, plus that math. In short, CarMax makes it really easy to buy a used car. So easy, in fact, that thousands of people, like me, walk onto their lots every day anticipating they'll get a great deal--and they do. Isn't that what car shopping should be?

Epilogue: My wife and I didn't buy a car that day. Both cars we liked and eventually took out on a test drive were purchased before we even got back to the sales office.

Going Through a Phrase

2010-03-04T23:00:00.000-08:00

We all do it. You know ... use a "pop" or prosaic phrase now and again. And, I think, for the most part, the practice is benign--like an "um" or "ahh" mindlessly put in between thoughts. However, since the assimilation of hip-hop and the advent of Twitter, where banal is the bomb-biggity and trite is tight, the practice seems to be moving toward malignant; eliminating original thought or dialog in the process. For example, I was standing in line at a checkout counter yesterday next to a woman who was talking on her cell phone. In less than three minutes, she rattled off at least a dozen catchphrases, including the very popular, but incongruous "doing a full 180"--twice. When she hung up her phone, the lady standing behind her said, "I'm feeling you, girlfriend."

Furilla potna--that's wack. Word ;)

Goal and Silver

2010-02-28T15:00:00.001-08:00

I confess: I rooted for Team Canada in the first couple rounds of the tournament. C'mon ... it was their Winter Games. And, they were playing the game they put on the map--on home ice. Besides, I believed that they had the players and the swagger to make the medal rounds exciting.

Of course, I wasn't rooting for Canada with great vigor. I am, after all, an American and a life-long hockey fan from New England, who would wish everything from the chicken pox to plain klutziness on the Canucks every time they came to town to play my beloved Bruins. But, I admit it: I was really pulling for these hockey hosers from the Great White North as they got pushed around and came close to being eliminated early. So, when they actually made it to the gold medal round, I was pleased.

By comparison, Team USA had cruised to the medal round. And, didn't appear to need any help in either the scoring or PR departments. They dismantled and deked their way through the early rounds, as if they were playing on home ice. (Full disclosure: I was a bit bored with them after they started out 2-0.)

The final I had hoped for happened: Team Canada vs. Team USA. The equivalent of hockey's Hatfields and McCoys met for gold and turned in a platinum performance. It was sudden-death overtime set up by a Team USA tie with just 24 seconds left in regulation. It was settled when Sid the Kid stuffed one past Ryan Miller several minutes in. Results: Gold for Canada, silver for USA and incroyable (incredible) for those who watched.

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Saints Be Praised. Go Cubs.

2010-02-08T23:00:00.000-08:00

Who dat?!!!! There I've said it.

Trust me, I was thrilled by the Saints' Super Bowl victory. As a football fan, I was thinking how cool it was to see the Crescent City come out on top after 43 years of hanging tough. As as a former resident driven away by the ill winds of Katrina and Rita, I was thinking how welcome the "Big Game" win will be for the Big Easy--especially for its economy. As a believer in karma, I was thinking how sweet it was that the NOLA "home-boy" with the horseshoe had his head handed to him in unbridled fashion. But, if you ask me what I'm thinking right now ... I'm thinking it's time for the country to get behind the Cubbies.

Being PC is Becoming a Thing of the Past

2010-01-20T18:00:00.000-08:00

Apple announces their biggest quarter ever. Thanks to 33% increase in Mac sales. (AP)

Dropped Balls (My Top Five Worst New Year Celebrations)

2010-01-01T00:03:00.000-08:00

5. Waiting for the repairman to fix my 35-year-old furnace at $200 per hour.

4. Sitting on a snowbank while firemen hose down my neighbor's apartment.

3. Standing shin-deep in water in my side yard ... hand pumping for three hours.

2. Driving myself to the ER with a fever and belly ready to blow every five minutes.

1. Visiting my brother in LA and being taken on the Holocaust Museum tour.

12 Days of Christmas (2009 Recession Version)

2009-12-15T00:30:00.000-08:00

Twelve Hummers clunking,

Eleven Blue Chips tanking,

Ten looters a-legging,

Nine lenders dancing,

Eight trades a-bilking,

Seven pawns a-swimming,

Six REITS delaying,

Five ponzi schemes,

Four falling burbs,

Three phished PINs,

Two paycheck stubs,

And pirates on the high seas!

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Redbox Nation

2009-12-07T10:50:00.000-08:00

Last year, when the economy began spiraling downward, my wife and I responded by reducing our expenses. We bought more household goods in bulk. We cut back on dining out and shopping. And, we started renting our videos via Redbox. Since then, we've probably rented over 100 movies using the now ubiquitous, red kiosks--it's hard to beat that $1 (plus tax) per movie, per night rental fee. Just ask Blockbuster Video.

Without much fanfare, Blockbuster Video shuttered several locations in our area last week. Undoubtedly part of the company restructuring plan that was made public in April, the local store closures were just a small sign of the national video rental chain's much larger financial troubles. With third-quarter reported revenue dropping 24% and same-store sales falling double the expected rate, the blue and gold video rental behemoth is turning red quicker than you can say video-on-demand. Analysts believe Blockbuster's chances of reversing its fortune are poor. They cite the rapid rise in revenue by kiosks, videos-by-mail, and video-on-demand as key indicators of Blockbuster's eventual demise.

Of course, Blockbuster's bust will mean an even bigger boom for its chief competitors--with NetFlix leading the pack. NetFlix, the video-by-mail pioneer, has invested heavily in populating its online streaming video application into broadband devices, including Wi-Fi ware. They're betting that by providing the content stream app now they will generate broadband service demand in early 2010, and, in turn, push new subscribers toward future NetFlix service offerings, such as live concerts and sporting events by the fourth quarter.

In the meantime, Redbox keeps rolling on at an incredible 1600 discs rented-per-minute rate. Recording its biggest rental day ever--November 7--with 1.8 million discs rented. My guess is that the Redbox rental day record won't stand for long: There are more Blockbuster stores scheduled to close in the coming weeks. And then there's Blockbuster stock closing lower again on Friday at 78 cents a share... or, as I see it, about 30 cents short of a Redbox video rental, plus tax.

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How Hollywood Sees the Healthcare Reform Debate

2009-12-01T22:48:00.000-08:00

EXT. HOSPITAL EMERGENCY ROOM (POST DEM PUBLIC OPTION) - WINTER NIGHT

A major metropolitan hospital just outside the ER. A dozen or so sick and injured people waiting--some standing. A handful of nurses work methodically behind a glass partition--two are in scrubs. A flat screen, closed-circuit TV preaches on about the superiority of the staff in English then in Spanish then in American Sign. The room is warm.

A neatly dressed old man sits in the corner on his scooter. AMELIA sits anxiously next to him. She's looking up at the Simplex clock over the nurse's station with swollen eyes. It's just after 11pm. We see the loneliness and worry in her face. Her nose is running and her lap is filled with crumpled tissues. The door to the emergency treatment room opens, and a middle-aged, African-American DOCTOR dressed in crisp hospital green walks through toward AMELIA, who bolts out of her chair and hurries toward him.

DOCTOR (apologetically) If we only had a few more minutes ...
AMELIA (gasps) What?
DOCTOR (sincerely) I'm really sorry.
AMELIA (screaming) No!
The ER waiting area suddenly goes silent. Everyone is staring at AMELIA and the Doctor. AMELIA falls to the floor sobbing. (Fade to black.)

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EXT. MOBILE EMERGENCY COMPOUND (POST GOP PUBLIC OPTION) - WINTER NIGHT

A WHO-funded mobile clinic set up next to an inner-city, major interstate cloverleaf. Several thousand sick and injured people--many undocumented--are waiting. There are four registration tables. Three volunteers wearing surgical masks sit at each table. Pamphlets listing the dangers of swine flu, SARS, and AIDS in 42 languages are scattered on the snow covered ground.

An elderly Latino sits in the corner leaning on his splintered cane--his twisted legs are covered with dried mud and tobacco juice. AMELIA sits nervously next to him. She's looking at her Mickey Mouse watch with swollen eyes. It's just after 6pm. We see the loneliness and worry in her face. Her nose is running and her lap is wet with tears and mucus. The flap on the triage tent opens, and a young Pakistani DOCTOR dressed in a blood-stained white coat walks through toward AMELIA, who bolts out of her chair and hurries toward him.

DOCTOR (detached) If only the review panel had a few more minutes ...
AMELIA (gasps) What?
DOCTOR (walking away) I'm really sorry.
AMELIA (screaming) No!
A volunteer calls security and AMELIA is escorted away. (Fade to black.)

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Large Catalog ... Hold the Anchovies

2009-11-20T18:00:00.000-08:00

I went on my first press check in 1984. It was a limited-run engraving job. It was a magical experience. Today, 25 years and hundreds of press checks later, the magic is all but gone for me. The process has become robotic--literally and figuratively--especially with the now commonplace, computer-to-plate work flow. Gone are the journeymen strippers, with their scratch golf games and locker room antics. Gone is the stat-room, with its moldering black tarp, piles of spent silver-halide film, and blinding lamps. All gone.

Cut to yesterday morning: I was on a press check for a large, litho job. It was a rush, holiday catalog--that missed its drop date because of product delays. The cyan was running heavy all night. With the "drop dead" deadline approaching, the client grew impatient and approved the color-flawed signatures anyway. At 6 am, the registration started to shift and the run came to a halt. Three hours and two valiant attempts to get the inks to mesh later, the fresh-on-the-floor, first-shift pressmen called for new plates. The frazzled client hit the couch in the waiting room to catch up on her sleep. I hit my laptop to catch up on my email. And the print sales rep hit the speed dial for Domino's.

It's comforting to know that some things may never change.

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My Top Five Healthcare Headlines for the Week

2009-11-12T23:09:00.000-08:00

5) Deadly Stomach Bug Found in Hospitals (HealthDay)
4) Low cholesterol may prevent some prostate cancers (AP)
3) Low cholesterol may be sign of undiagnosed cancer
(Reuters)
2) Web Surf to Save Your Aging Brain (HealthDay)
1) Syphilis Boom in China Seen as a Sign of Economic Recovery (AP) :

Why the Yankees Should Win the World Series. (Alt. Backing American Brands Is Good for the Global Economy.)

2009-11-03T22:26:00.000-08:00

I grew up in New England in the 60s and 70s; where—and when—it wasn't convenient or even cool to root for the Yankees. Now, I didn't root for Yankees because my father did. (Although he did, before saying “I do” to my mother, an avid Red Sox fan.) I didn't root for the Yankees because they had great players. (On the contrary, in the mid-60s until the mid-70s, the Yankees looked and played like a farm team.) And I didn't root for the Yankees because they had a classic uniform or a storied stadium. (Truth is: the Cardinals' uniform is a better example of timeless baseball attire. And, dare, I say it, the old, cozy confines of Fenway Park, with its mythical Green Monster, has more stories to tell.) I rooted for the Yankees because they were bigger than baseball. They were an institution—an American icon—known the world over as winners. They inspired me in a time when the only other Americans worth looking up to were in the space program. In short, I bought into the Yankees’ brand and stuck with it through thick and thin.

Today, as the World Series brings together my beloved Yankees and the reigning world champion Phillies, I see that America is again facing a global image problem. But, unlike the self-inflicted damage of the civil rights unrest or the protracted Vietnam conflict of the 60s and 70s, the damage to our global image is found in the failing global economy. We’re no longer the self-proclaimed leader of the free world (market). American brands are struggling to survive in the tightening global marketplace helping to keep the world’s economy flat.

I’ve always believed that big changes are nothing more than the effect of many little changes working together. So, in this time of economic crisis, when America needs a boost to its global image, I suggest we all “buy” into our American brands a bit more. Pick up an extra bottle of Coca-Cola. Download a few more iTunes from Apple. Test drive a Chevrolet… show the world that we believe in American brands here at home. Then I suggest we all email, Tweet and blog it up big time on behalf of our global brand ambassadors, like Microsoft, Google and Wall Street—let’s raise their social awareness back up to icon status where it belongs. And, I suggest we all root for the Yankees to win the World Series. No offense to the reigning world champion Phillies looking forward to repeating, but we all have to admit that wearing “pinstripes” will do more for our global image than following in the Fanatic’s footsteps for one more year. Let’s face it: successful American brands, like the Yankees, are what the world expects from us. And it’s always good for business to give your customers what they want.

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Ode to the Corner Drugstore

2009-10-15T12:13:00.000-07:00

A long while ago, not far from this spot,
on the corner, right next to an old parking lot,
sat a family-run drugstore with a neon sign;
a compound pharmacy from another time.

Locals found remedies and salves for their needs,
without any ballyhoo, pretense or greed;
while nearby records played in private rooms
and soda was jerked next to ten-cent perfume.

But, along came an emporium down a few blocks,
where customers found furniture, finery, and clocks.
The druggist grew anxious, flummoxed and frayed,
thinking how his patrons could be so easily swayed.

Forgetting about his family, his potions, his past,
he set out with a vengeance, and pursued a new path.
Away with the soda fountain, and out with the wax.
He’ll win with his prices—a deep discount, plus tax.

Soon the emporium was scrambling just to compete.
They grappled and struggled, almost in defeat.
When all looked lost there came an idea for the ages:
they’d expand—buy in bulk and lower prices in stages.

They added groceries, sundries and knickknacks to boot;
next to the hardware, furnishings and fine woolen suits.
Now it was the druggist’s turn to counter the parry.
So he lowered his prices and sold his goods cash-and-carry.

Then from out of the Ozarks came a new breed of store.
They put gun racks near the pant suits, sold bait and much more.
The emporium soon closed with the drugstore not far behind.
All gone… along with the notions, potions and the neon sign.

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