A blog about beer and/or advertising.

Let's call it "beervertising" for short.

That's not really all that short, but it's better than beer and/or advertising.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Me and My Big Mouth.

The parents who raise their child to place such a high priority on his integrity, to always stand up when he knows he is right, to never lay down and take it when someone is being unfair or abusive, to be honest and speak his mind, do not know what kind of monster they may end up creating.

That child ended up being me. And while I certainly have a filter that could keep me from spouting off my honest thoughts, I choose to ignore it most of the time. Other people tend to not like this.

I am proud and more than happy that my parents focused so hard on teaching me all of these important principles. Never in my life have I ever wished I didn't have the ability to be honest, straightforward and able to speak my mind. That being said, many, many people are not ready to hear it (or read it). And this has landed me in trouble.

In high school, it almost got me fired on several occasions. I can recall getting in to full-blown arguments with the people who ran the retail store I worked in. In one specific situation, I told my manager that I had no respect for her, or any one else, as my boss. (To be fair, she was a terrible boss, and the store manager was fired a few months later) Luckily, I suppose, I was well-liked by some of my other superiors and rather adept at my job. Perhaps some of that spitfire can be attributed to being a teenager. Still, my ability to not just lie down and take it and speak my mind persevered.

The stakes are different now, it would seem. I'm not longer schlepping at a part-time, just-above-minimum-wage retail job that won't end up being my career anymore. This is the real-deal. And even so, my blunt honesty may once again be getting me in to trouble. I've learned, through experience and lecture, to be more vigilant in keeping my mouth shut in the professional world. And I am getting better. But often I wonder how long it will be before I slip up. Because even though it might be true, it doesn't mean it's the right thing to say.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Trying to Make My Mom and Dad Proud.

The industry I work in is generally regarded as one of the least-trustworthy in the US, and perhaps, the world. Whether that is with good reason can be debated amongst those on the outside who feel slighted by spurious claims made in ads and those on the inside who do honestly make efforts to not mislead anyone. Regardless, each person's perception is indeed their reality, and the collective reality seems to be that very few people trust advertising or offer much regard for the people who work in the industry.

With every day that I come in to the office and every hour I spend working on my portfolio, I'm finding more and more that I may have an ulterior motive for my career: I want to bring some integrity back into this business. It's not going to be easy. I'll probably fail. But I'm going to try, nonetheless.

I think, at least so far in my reflections on the issue, there are two reasons for this goal. 1) My personal integrity is something that I value. It is part of how I define myself as a human being, personally and professionally. That being said, I don't much like working in an industry where my personal integrity is overshadowed by the lack of integrity (or perceived lack of integrity) that most people have. 2) I've talked to a few people, inside the biz and out, and in a sense have been a bit taken aback about how most of them respond. It seems the general consensus about what to do with this lack of integrity in the business is, rather than try to fix it, capitalize on it. Use it to my advantage to fleece people and have fun. Everyone expects me (us) to do it, so why not use that to my advantage and enjoy the freedoms it allows me to take? That, in itself, is part of the reason I so badly want to restore some integrity. In a sense, and to overstep my bounds and make a broad generalization: That kind of thinking is what has landed us with such a shit storm in Washington, DC. Not just with the debt ceiling, but pretty much the last 40 years.

A whole other topic, I know. But there a couple points I'm trying to make: This tolerance of lack of integrity is disconcerting and dangerous. It never leads to anywhere positive. It has led to a sideshow in politics, as well as a bit of hubris in advertising (at least from my limited perspective).

On a more personal level, though, the point of all of this is that, when it boils down to it, I want to be able to go back to my parent's home be able to look them in the eye when I talk about my work, or when a commercial comes on, and not be ashamed, of the quality of the work or the claims being made. It's as simple as that. My parents made a lot of sacrifices to get me to where I am. So, I suppose, aside from my own personal needs, my integrity stems from a desire to not disappoint my folks.

I'm that nervous, shy elementary school kid all over again.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

"Norway's Timothy McVeigh"

NOTE: This isn't about advertising. Or beer. But I am drinking a beer while writing this.

What transpired in Norway at the end of last week is perhaps one of the most disgusting and disturbing tragedies since 9/11. As with any event of this magnitude, it has caused to me, (as well as others, I'm sure) to reflect on some things. As with McVeigh, Norway was caught by surprise by this guy because their terrorist intelligence had ruled out the possibility of any major attack by a domestic terrorist, and instead focused their efforts on tracking international (Muslim) threats. As of late, many right wing groups in Norway had dwindled in numbers of members. From what I have read, most militant right-wing groups' members numbered less than 50. Still, a (so far) lone man is responsible for the deaths of almost 100 people, many of whom were teenagers and just-barely adults.

So often in the western world, we seem to forget what word is actually the most important when we talk about religion-based terrorism. It is not the specific religion, be it Christian, Islam, Judaism, or what have you, but rather the same word that follows each of those qualifiers: fundamentalist.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

I Can Write Like You.

Given enough time and an adequate amount of samples, I can. It's one of the skills that I've worked on since I started developing an interest in advertising. I'm not an ace, in that I can't adapt immediately. At least, not yet. But I like to think I'm fairly adept at it. Perhaps because I enjoy it and the challenges it presents, having to write and rewrite until I've completely eradicated my speech patterns and vocabulary and have replaced it with the featured character's or personality's. Listening or reading over and over again to determine word-usage, inflection, pattern, diction, and rhythm and adopt them as my own. I suppose it might be a weird thing to enjoy doing. But I've never claimed to not be a weird guy.

I thought of this most recently as I was considering whether to bring back a campaign I had worked on a few years ago for [insert brand name here] diamonds. In truth, the campaign wasn't the type that was exclusive to one brand or another. Rather, it was the novelty of the message that made the idea worthwhile in my mind. And thinking of it recently, it was of a style somewhat similar to the recently successful Old Spice campaign. Yeah, I'm saying it. I had the idea before they did.

Whether you believe me or not, and whether its true or not, doesn't much matter because I never finished the work and never put it in my portfolio. And there's a good reason for that: The campaign was built around TV and web videos with a range of celebrity and athlete endorsements, ranging from Red Sox 2B Dustin Pedroia, NFL WR Santonio Holmes, The Simpsons and the lovable duo from Flight of the Conchords, all written in their voices. As such, it would be budgetary nightmare for a student/individual. (Perhaps some celebrity or athlete will read this and decide, out of the goodness of his or her heart, to convince his or her friends to do the campaign for free).

Still, I'm motivated to find a way to put this work into my portfolio for one main reason: The target audience.

Years ago, Helzberg Diamonds put out a campaign directed at men stating that, they bought Helzberg because they weren't "that guy" who took calligraphy classes just so he could hand-write an anniversary day card or take his wife's Yorkie to the doggie salon while she went out with her girlfriends. They were written quite well and rather hilarious.

At the time, I wasn't in the market to buy diamonds for anyone. Still not. But if I had been, I at least would've checked out Helzberg, because I hate conventional diamond advertising (looking at you De Beers, Jared, Kay, etc.), and they're work was so different. I have a feeling this strategy didn't work for them, though, because after three spots, they changed their tone.

I put a twist on this messaging, though, and directed my diamond ads at a whole different audience. If they ever make it up on my portfolio website, or better yet, out into the world as work that got sold, we can chat about it. Until then, my paranoia is keeping the ideas locked up.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

There's Money to Be Made in Low ABV Beer

Or so it would seem. Over the last decade or so, in tandem with the war against carbohydrates, brewers have been decreasing the number of carbs and calories in beer. This has led to such brand extensions as Michelob Ultra, Budweiser Select, MGD 64, and a myriad of other beers with tiny calorie numbers and virtually no carbs.

What no one ever explains to these lovers of the ultra lights is that, unless you're dumping a large number of flavor additives into your mainstream "original" beers, the biggest source of calories and carbs is from alcohol. When a brewer cuts calories, he or she is most likely reducing the alcohol content. You pretty much have to. Because the hops and barley malts (and rice) really don't account for much, and the process of fermenting beer requires sugars for the yeast to digest. Which is why non-alcoholic beers are so low in calories. No alcohol = no significant source of sugars, and thus, carbohydrates. Which begs the question: Aside from Erdinger, why are no non-alcoholics advertising themselves as health beverages or alternatives to fake-sugar sodas and juices? My guess is that no one would believe them if they made that claim.

All of that aside, it would seem that, during the race to the bottom in terms of calories, the major brewers noticed a more-than-appealing trend: When people drink ultra-light beers, they have to drink more of them to get drunk.

This, I think, is why some of them are priced so low. The margin per-bottle is low, but the volume people buy them in is more than enough to cover the smaller margin. This explains, it would seem, the shift by other major brewers, foreign and domestic, to decrease the ABV in their flagship "regular" brands. Stella Artois has already done this, dropping their ABV to 4.4% from 5%. Perhaps not much of a shift, but you don't fiddle with your recipe for no reason, especially when its "been around" since 1366.

What has always been a curious concept for me, as a lover of fine beers from all over the world, is the logic of drinking a light, or ultra light, beer, to save money and calories. It is, in fact, much more cost-effective, efficient and delicious to drink three or four high ABV IPAs, Imperial Stouts and the like, than it is to down 10-12 light or ultra light beers. And in the end, the calories you consume are about the same. So is the funny feeling in your head.

Of course, that would mean going against what the TV box tells me to do and exploring beyond what is known. It is a lot easier to stick with what you know, even if it is a bland, watery, low quality, low-alcohol mockery of beer.

Just my two cents.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

My Many Hats.

As is often the case, I've spent the last week or so (over) analyzing exactly what it is I do in my current position as a copywriter. In doing so, I have realized that I, in fact, wear many hats. As such, I have begun to flesh out in my mind the details of each of those aspects of my job, which I am going to be sharing with you over the next few days or weeks.

As much as some of these hats are pretty and fit my expertise and skills quite well, and others are grimy and unpleasant, there is one hat that I am finding I don't where all that much. As much as I like to think I am a creator and idea-generator, I actually spend very little time doing any sort of original writing or concept development. Most often, I am wearing the hat of a translator, an analyst, an interpreter, an editor, a proofreader, a researcher, and most likely, many others. All of this time spent doing these other things, I'm finding, comes at the expense of the quality of the original writing and concept development I am here to do, when I actually get to do it.

Perhaps it was simply a misunderstanding when I accepted the position here, but so often I feel like the cumulative consumption of my time and efforts working on what I understood to be the fringe aspects of my job completely overshadows what is supposed to be the main focus of the time I spend here. I suppose if the pay-check issuers are happy with it that way, I shouldn't rattle any cages.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

International Brand Manager (DB)

Everyone I work for is German. Our client is German. And thus, the International Brand Manager for said client is also German.

Combined, between all of them, I do very much believe that my 2-ish years working in advertising in America trumps their entire experience with American advertising. At the least, I know I've been at this longer than the International Brand Manager (IBM, I'm getting lazy). He got his start in sales (apparently), and was then moved from sales to brand management. And it shows.

His work experience aside, I often find that I am being told by individuals who have about the same amount of experience as I do working in American advertising, perhaps less, how advertising works in America and that what I know, what I have learned, what I have studied and what I have experienced in my 26 years (Happy Birthday to me!) living in the USA is wrong.

Admittedly, these same individuals do have more total experience in advertising. But that's in Germany. And if I have learned anything from my time here, it's that what flies in Germany and what flies in America are often not the same. I could be wrong. I probably am. Mostly because I am of the ideal that excellent work can transcend language, sometimes. In fact, it is not easy. At all. Aside from language, there are cultural differences. Historical differences. Pop culture differences. Anthropological differences. The drinking culture in America is not the same as the one in Germany. Being a beer fanatic, I know this intimately. Yet, most days I am forced to apply a logic to the work that I do that makes absolutely no sense to me. I've fought back. I've tried to stand my ground. And every time, I lose.

And so I pose this question: Why is it so hard for those who have no idea what they are doing admit that they have no idea what they are doing and trust someone who does?

Don't get me wrong. I am still very inexperienced. But I do know a bit. A little bit. A tiny bit. But when it comes to things I know little about, I consult an expert. Perhaps several. And then I listen. I learn. I trust. These people are experts. They make their living knowing a lot about one thing and then accepting money in exchange for sharing that knowledge (intellectual hookers?). When my dog went off the hinges, I hired a trainer because I'm not a dog training expert. If my pipes exploded in my apartment, I would hire a plumber; someone I would assume is an expert with pipes. I am becoming an expert in writing for advertising. It's what I have been studying and working at for the last seven or eight years of my life. I can't survive unless I excel at it and maintain a level of relevancy. So, why is it so hard to listen once in a while?

Sunday, July 3, 2011

The BEST Rejection Letter I've Ever Received.

Hi Greg.


Sorry for the delay in getting back to you. I'm also sorry to say that we think you're too senior—and far too creative—for this role.


Thanks for your interest in ******. If it's okay with you, I'm going to hang onto your resume and pass it on to some people in my network here if they're looking for a more senior-level writer.