Japan may not have a Super Bowl,
but they’d launch this Sapporo beer spot on it if they did.
Got huge production values.
And it’s okay, I suppose.
But you wouldn’t likely find me talking about this
Sapporo spot at the famed water cooler.

But the next spot, which is a parody of big beer genre....
now THAT I would talk about; in fact, HAVE talked about.

Cuz it rocks so hard.

COPY: You’ve seen them. Those signs in airports around the world, hand-painted and with just a hint ‘o’ creative.

“Pardon our mess while we FLY thru making a better airport for you.”

Well, it was that time of year again here in Austin, Texas, last night when airport creatives gathered ‘round the stage to honor the best Pardon-Airport-Construction-Signs of 2009. And the show was no disappointment.

Gold went to Richmond’s Byrd International Airport for their anthropomorphizing of a bird into the delightful “Captain Bryd” who directed airport walkers down a temporary hallway with the headline:  

“Captain Byrd reminds you to watch your step during our reconstruction to make a better airport for you.”

And the silver (highly contested) ended up in the hands of the creative team from the back room at Chicago’s O’Hare. The applause was deafening when O’Hare’s silver-winning sandwich board appeared on the big screen:

O’Pardon us for all O’the contruction as we make a better airport for you.

NEXT POSTING: Why does absolutely every single low-end motel chain logo have to SUCK?

(download)

Click here to download:

FOR_IMMEDIATE_RELEASE_The_2010.zip (11 KB)

My review of the iPad. Okay, here’s my review of the iPad and it isn’t about the product, but the brand.
 
If there is a smarter better-run, better-managed brand out there, I don’t know what it is.
 
Perhaps what I like most about Apple is how they run directly counter to the accepted customer-driven business model. They don’t need no stinking focus groups to tell them what to create. They figured out a long time ago that customers don’t know what they want until someone gives it to them. Which is why there’s never been a focus group in Cupertino with a nervous facilitator dishing out M&M’s and saying, “We sure hope you like this new thing here and if you don’t, what kind of thing should we make?” (God bless companies with vision and boldness. I didn’t know I wanted a flower vase on the dashboard of my car until VW showed me I did.)
 
Apple is a company aligned from CEO to store level to a single vision of  “insanely great,” the very words first used to describe the original Macintosh. This is a company that has been doing fantastic advertising for several decades, one incredible campaign after another. Yes, we’ve all heard about “1984.” But it’s just the tip of the iceberg, my friends. Go through the old awards annuals; Apple is everywhere. In fact, I still remember how I loved reading a copy of the November 1984 issue of Newsweek. Apple bought every ad page of the popular post-election issue, owned the entire thing. (I’m still looking to buy a copy on eBay, haven’t found it yet.)
 
Perhaps my favorite Apple commercial ever aired in 1996 when Chiat/Day, Lee Clow, and Steven Jobs reunited. The copy from this marvelous TV spot still kills me. And it’s remarkable how true Apple remains to this credo even today, 14 years later. There’s not a jot of difference.
 
Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits.
The rebels.
The trouble-makers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see things differently.
They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can quote them, disagree with them,
glorify or vilify them,
but the only thing you can’t do
is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They push the human race forward.
And while some may see them as the crazy ones,
we see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough
to think they can change the world
are the ones who do.
 
And then the quiet logo and super:
Apple. Think Different.
 
On top of being aligned to a common purpose, Apple has incredible visual cohesion vertically, top to bottom. The TV spots have a spare white background, as do the print ads, as does the color of the store I walk into, as well as the box I carry when I walk out.
 
Furthermore, these people go way beyond creating things that are functionally exceptional. The design ethos of this company is legendary. So much so that people will put up with things the iPad doesn’t have (Flash) just to enjoy all the parts the iPad does have. Apple makes everything way better than it has to be. The curved edges on the clean metal backing of the original iPod. It didn’t have to be cut that way. But it was. The little “Orgami” slide show option in iPad’s iPhoto. It didn’t have to be that cool; they coulda just lifted some Powerpoint application and done it on the cheap. Even the damn boxes they sell their products in are made so well I have real trouble throwing them away.
 
Apple? I bow to thee.

The kid sitting next to me here at the Atlanta airport has what’s clearly a pre-Copernican view of the universe. Unlike the 15th-century astronomer, this young man continues to believe the universe revolves around him and demonstrates this world-view by talking loudly on his cell phone.  Perhaps picking up his Dark Ages vibe, I too begin feeling medieval and entertain fantasies of pushing the rude young man and his phone into an Iron Maiden. Perhaps if I position him correctly inside the torture device, its interior spikes will impale both him and his phone. Otherwise I risk having his caller dial back and I know I’ll find the plaintive ringing inside the iron coffin equally distracting.

(I revise an old Onion headline: Harried Atlanta Traveler Murders Teen, Mentally.)

  Like many, this boy has lost his sense of personal space. What else explains how he can blithely blather on with my ears plainly visible and in full view less than a yard away? Perhaps he isn’t rude and simply believes my ears inoperable. I briefly consider posting an “EARS ACTUALLY WORK” sign on my forehead, hoping this is the critical information the young man’s lacking, yet I doubt information is the issue.

  Yet, why affix blame to only this kid?

  Even the airport authorities assume I have no personal space; no bubble; no interior life. The airport’s designers have courteously placed huge televisions blaring CNN from every ceiling panel with the implicit assumption that without constant stimulation my mind might turn inward on itself. And there, left to stew in its own solipsistic juices, and face-to-face with the bleak and lonely void at my center, the authorities assume I’ll bring an end my existential terror possibly with a spork from Popeye’s. While I appreciate their concern for my well-being, it turns out many of us actually do have an inner life and are content to exist with our own thoughts from time to time. A luxury I am denied – the young man continues to talk.

  A curious wrinkle of the human mind known as Gestalt perception now comes into play. My brain’s circuitry automatically fills in the part of the phone conversation I cannot hear. I intuit what the other person on the line is saying and so begin to take part in a conversation I have no interest in nor was invited to join. He’s talking about quitting smoking and from what he’s saying I can tell his partner is giving him some bad advice. His caller has clearly just told him that nicotine is deadly. Since I am now a fully vested member of this conversation I feel within my rights to weigh in on the issue.

  “No, it’s not the nicotine,” I say (inside my head), doing a mental butt-in-ski. “Jesus Christ, it’s the tars and 4,000 other chemicals in cigarette smoke that will kill you….or the Iron Maiden into which I am mentally pushing you, you rude little orc.”

  But I say nothing. Instead, I don my noise-reducing headphones and try to drown him out.

  Drowning. Mmmm. That’s another possibility.

How I Use Twitter How I use Twitter: If we were to meet at a party, the first thing you would notice is that I am not there, because I never go to parties.  I am an introvert and I never “do things.” I also take great pains to avoid ever having to “chat.” I find small talk makes me uncomfortable. In fact, given the choice, I would prefer to have Pop Rocks placed under my eyelids and my eyelids sewn shut with barbed wire and catgut. That said, I don’t “chat” much online either. However, I am not a complete misanthrope. I like to know what my friends are doing; what interests them. So, what chatting I do take part in, I do on Facebook. But actual chatting is live and interactive, so what I do on Facebook doesn’t qualify as chatting. It’s more like listening to humanity through the walls. In fact, I feel guilty when someone sees that I am live on Facebook and sends me a text: “Hey, how ya doin’?” The thing is, I don’t want interactivity. Which is why Facebook is perfect for introverts who actually like the human race. It is as if I can watch my beloved species from a high window; I can see what they are doing but bear no actual risk of interaction. I’m pretty sure this isn’t why most people like Facebook, but it’s where I net out. Twitter, on the other hand, I use for learning. I hear many people dismiss Twitter by saying, “I don’t give a tin shit that u r having coffee @ Starbux.” With that part, I agree. But the thing is, I don’t follow people who post pabulum like that. I follow people who are out there pushing great content. I follow people who post links to great articles, cool videos, websites, SlideShare presentations. Then, when I log on to my Tweetdeck, it’s kinda like I am scrolling through a Table of Contents to a great magazine, one that’s being published every minute. When someone follows me, I always follow back. But to keep my list interesting and “@ Starbux free”, I go through my list every other day or so and unfollow anyone who posts useless stuff. Yes, I know Breaking Bad is good but could I puh-lease have the half-second of my life back that you stole by posting such useless crap? Thanks.

I admire agencies that decline to defend accounts when they go into review. The shock and the loss of trust is part of it, but then the horrible process of defense is demoralizing. I liken it to "Defending your marriage."

Your wife walks into the room and says, “Honey, you’ve worked hard on this marriage, I’ve loved your commitment to this thing, but…well I’ve been thinking I could do better. Let’s admit it, you’ve put on a few pounds and frankly, I’m reading about other men out there who…Noooo, baby, don’t take this wrong! Seriously, I love you, I do, I DO. I’m just sayin’, I’ve been getting calls from other guys and there’s really nothing wrong with my seeing their presentations. You can put on YOUR presentation, too, darlin’. Seriously. Let me get my calendar here. Okay, I’ve scheduled one of the new guys, Ted -- nice guy, you’ll like him, I swear -- I have Ted on April 15th, the morning slot from 9:30 to 10. Which puts you presenting at … HONEY! You don’t want to present LAST, do you? So I have you presenting in the second slot, first day. A great slot and seriously, you do NOT want to go first.