Tis the season for re-gifting. Another wonderful contribution to our lexicon, courtesy of the writers of “Seinfeld.” The giftors, in this case, have been open about it. I have no problem, either way. A freebie is a freebie.
I am fortunate enough to know a number of people who work for or have retired from Procter & Gamble. They receive a gift basket of the company’s products this time of the year from P&G. What they care to share, I get.
This year, the passalongs ran heavily to deodorant sticks. Maybe it’s because the baskets were heavily laden with them. Or, because I’ve been working out more. I don’t care. The price is right.
A stick lasts me forever since I shower daily and don’t use that much chemical backup to deal with secretions. So, I haven’t been shopping for the product much or noticing the promotions. Now, I’m looking at the labels and recalling a scene from a book about the advertising business I read many years ago. I could be mistaken, but I think it was in “From those wonderful folks who gave you Pearl Harbor: Front line dispatches from the advertising wars.”
It takes place in a board room. A large pad of paper is supported by an easel at the front of the room (this predates dry boards and computer presentations by decades). On the facing sheet is the outline of the human form.
The executive at the head of the table addresses the group seated around the oval slab of walnut in the clipped cadence of a military strategist. “Men, we’ve convinced people that their breath stinks and sold them a product to combat it.” He circles the mouth area with a marker. “We made them self-conscious about their feet and gave them powder.” He applies the ink around the feet. “And then, we scared the crap out of them about their underarms.” He emphatically circles the armpits.
“My question to you is where can we attack next?”
There’s a buzzing in the room as speculation is bandied back and forth. One man rises and the room falls silent. He raises a finger in a eureka gesture and states, “The crotch.”
The hush continues while anxious faces turn to the leader for his reaction. His face is frozen for a moment before splitting into a smile. “Brilliant! Inside of six months, no one will dare walk out the front door, much less board an elevator, without dousing their genitals with whatever slop we come up with.”
Product tests were set up in the U.S. and Europe. The feminine products scored big here, but the masculine applications bombed. In Europe, the reverse was true. Read into that as you will.
It was supposed to be an accurate account of an actual meeting. I believed it. At the time, I was staring at people willing to pay a hefty premium for polo shirts just because an alligator was sewn on the breast, so why should this seem questionable?
Back in the present, I’m reading the labels on the deodorant sticks. One is designated clinical strength while the other is pro strength. Pro what? Are there professional sweaters?
For that matter, what’s with the clinical? Are there treatment centers dedicated to people who have body odor? Is that covered in the new health plan?
And, is anything “regular” strength anymore? Surely, we’re not all in the extreme end of the curve.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
We are family
The coincidences of life sometimes amaze me. Today was a bit trying at work as the reality of our upcoming merger and my departure are affecting the employees and me.
I have no complaints as it is by my own hand. My strategic analysis revealed that the trend of shrinking funding to social services would continue and organizations like ours would no longer be able to serve our constituency without greater critical mass. We’re located in a depressed area outside of the political power sphere and usually get the dirty end of the stick.
The primary concern is the needy we serve, not the organization or my job. So, to ensure continued service, I initiated merger talks with a larger entity. A goal in such an alliance is to achieve economies of scale by eliminating duplicate positions. I’m a duplicate, but I knew that before I set the wheels in motion.
Such things are never easy on companies, but our culture makes it harder. We are family. Sometimes, a dysfunctional family, but what family isn’t?
The coincidence? I didn’t realize that it was almost exactly 20 years ago, someone else left the family. That family was a company (newspaper) I owned at that time. I came to recognize that with a message that arrived tonight on my social networking site. It asked if I was the same Henry Dorfman who wrote a column about Dan when he died.
Wow. Talk about a blast from the past.
I replied to Dave and we exchanged some more messages about Dan, who had worked for me. I like to think all the employees were special, and I’m still in touch with a number of them. But Dan was a little extra special.
And, not just to me. Dave told me about a tribute web site his friends had set up for Dan and I was touched that they had included my column (http://www.jimnasium.s5.com/kessler.html).
As difficult as it is for me to leave my current family, I am reminded that there are worse separations. Perspective.
I have no complaints as it is by my own hand. My strategic analysis revealed that the trend of shrinking funding to social services would continue and organizations like ours would no longer be able to serve our constituency without greater critical mass. We’re located in a depressed area outside of the political power sphere and usually get the dirty end of the stick.
The primary concern is the needy we serve, not the organization or my job. So, to ensure continued service, I initiated merger talks with a larger entity. A goal in such an alliance is to achieve economies of scale by eliminating duplicate positions. I’m a duplicate, but I knew that before I set the wheels in motion.
Such things are never easy on companies, but our culture makes it harder. We are family. Sometimes, a dysfunctional family, but what family isn’t?
The coincidence? I didn’t realize that it was almost exactly 20 years ago, someone else left the family. That family was a company (newspaper) I owned at that time. I came to recognize that with a message that arrived tonight on my social networking site. It asked if I was the same Henry Dorfman who wrote a column about Dan when he died.
Wow. Talk about a blast from the past.
I replied to Dave and we exchanged some more messages about Dan, who had worked for me. I like to think all the employees were special, and I’m still in touch with a number of them. But Dan was a little extra special.
And, not just to me. Dave told me about a tribute web site his friends had set up for Dan and I was touched that they had included my column (http://www.jimnasium.s5.com/kessler.html).
As difficult as it is for me to leave my current family, I am reminded that there are worse separations. Perspective.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Chutzpah redefined
In his recent lawsuit against his nephews, Larry Flynt charges that their use of his (their) name in their new venture tarnishes his image.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
I spoke too soon
I didn’t even anticipate this is my recent blog about specialization. The maker of Peeps (the molded marshmallow bunnies and chicks that resemble and are almost as appetizing as Styrofoam packing peanuts) announced the opening of the first store devoted to them. I’m not kidding. It was reported by the Associated Press so there’s a good chance it’s somewhat accurate.
Company spokesperson Kathy Bassininski is quoted as explaining, “Our fans have been asking for years, what about a store?” I think we can all identify with that. How many times have you stood at the Easter endcap display in Walgreen’s and thought to yourself, “Oh no, an entire section is not enough to meet my Peeps requirements. It simply will not do. I need a complete store with at least 850 Peeps products.”
That line includes Peeps apparel, mouse pads and a whole slew of other items. They say that most of the products are of the inedible variety. I wouldn’t have argued with “all” in that sentence.
Where is the lucky mall located? If you were introducing a sun protection store, you might shop space in Phoenix. Natural foods might take you to the shadow of the Golden Gate. But, if it makes no sense and is a total waste of money, your target market is metro Washington DC.
There’s got to be stimulus money behind this, if not the ADA lobby.
Company spokesperson Kathy Bassininski is quoted as explaining, “Our fans have been asking for years, what about a store?” I think we can all identify with that. How many times have you stood at the Easter endcap display in Walgreen’s and thought to yourself, “Oh no, an entire section is not enough to meet my Peeps requirements. It simply will not do. I need a complete store with at least 850 Peeps products.”
That line includes Peeps apparel, mouse pads and a whole slew of other items. They say that most of the products are of the inedible variety. I wouldn’t have argued with “all” in that sentence.
Where is the lucky mall located? If you were introducing a sun protection store, you might shop space in Phoenix. Natural foods might take you to the shadow of the Golden Gate. But, if it makes no sense and is a total waste of money, your target market is metro Washington DC.
There’s got to be stimulus money behind this, if not the ADA lobby.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Holiday party season
They’re starting to build into a pile on my desk. Seasonal party invitations. Too much of a good thing isn’t good. I have more latitude in my choices this year since I’ll be retiring in a few weeks, at least from what I do now. So, I can pitch the less enjoyable professional events.
The givens are the family and relationship tied festivities, which I enjoy anyway. There’s the office party, which is usually fine, but takes on more weight since it’ll be my last.
That leaves the professions, organizations, acquaintances and friends categories. There were business, networking, and other types of considerations to factor into the triage in the past. But, I’m pretty much down to just deciding if it’ll be a good time.
Doesn’t take a lot to fire up a blast. A few days ago, it was a dozen fellow kayakers sitting around a table at a bar & grill, reliving the prior good times. The laughter was non-stop for hours. But, the prior relationships aren’t required, as some of the people were relative newcomers to the fold.
That would also go for Thanksgiving. A holiday dinner, yes. But at Dave’s, it’s more like a big party.
Dave is related to my friend, which is how I got invited. However, it wasn’t limited to family, or even people who knew each other.
Dave has a large country home and invites people from various branches of his life, past and present. So, one minute you could be talking with someone he was in marching band with back in college and the next, one who shared in the Antarctic tour. It wasn’t like they were all fascinating, but they were all people you’d want to spend an evening with. I suspect Dave carefully selects the mix.
But, it isn’t as simple as the cast. You hear people say they don’t like New Years parties because people are trying too hard to have a good time. That may depend how it’s set up. I prefer a lower key format.
At the other end of that spectrum would be The World’s Largest Office Party. Or, so it was promoted (and may still be, for all I know). An annual fundraiser held in the ballroom of a downtown hotel. A good cause, but more like the world’ largest meat market. Thousands of dateless overindulging at the heartbreak hotel.
I did have a role in this and confess to enjoying it immensely. Celebrity bartenders were teamed at a dozen or so stations and rotated every couple hours. Drink tickets were sold at other tables, and the competition among the celebrities was how many of those tickets (plus tips) could you attract. The end product was to drive overall spending.
Put me behind a table of open bottles and some Bengal cheerleaders and I don’t even mind the drunks who get in my face and demand “Who the ____ are you?” Or, sometimes, when you met your co-celebrity, you’d hear that. Did I mention they were stretching the celebrity definition a bit?
When the event was in its nascency, the organizers had a hard time attracting big names to serve as the bartenders. I had a TV show and newspaper column of targeted (read “minute”) audience. It sounded like a worthwhile endeavor, so I agreed to participate.
As the event skyrocketed in popularity, many of the true celebrities wanted in. Far more than there were spots for. To the credit of the organizers, they remembered those who helped in the beginning and we were accorded first refusal on the coveted spots.
The best time I had doing it was when I was matched up with some college football coaches. They got heavily into war stories and inside information, and maybe a little too much into the bar inventory. A lot of outgoing personalities in the group and we did better in the ticket competition than one might expect.
The opposite of that was when I was paired with Dr. Henry Heimlich, originator of the Heimlich Maneuver (that’s for clearing an air passage, not a dating technique). The middle-aged newspaper guy and elderly doctor. Can you imagine the line of revelers in front of our bar? We were limited to the no-waiting market.
I was content to pass the time people-watching and doing quality control on our inventory, but the lack of attention did not seem to sit well with the good doctor. So, I suggested a marketing strategy. We would offer a Heimlich from Heimlich. That is, get your drink here and you’ll get the maneuver from the inventor and have that to brag about that. Would’ve probably been even better in an age of cell phone cameras.
The concept was not well-received by Dr. Heimlich. “Do you understand who I am?” he thundered. Duh, yeah. It’s not like it would have drawn well if he was, say, Jack Kevorkian.
Not my best holiday party. But, I’m not just trying to avoid the clunkers, now.
There is one other variable. I’m looking at a dozen invitations, with more coming in, applying to the next four weeks or so. Let’s project that will double. Being realistic, I’m working with about a half-dozen/month body. No, make that less.
Let the sorting begin.
The givens are the family and relationship tied festivities, which I enjoy anyway. There’s the office party, which is usually fine, but takes on more weight since it’ll be my last.
That leaves the professions, organizations, acquaintances and friends categories. There were business, networking, and other types of considerations to factor into the triage in the past. But, I’m pretty much down to just deciding if it’ll be a good time.
Doesn’t take a lot to fire up a blast. A few days ago, it was a dozen fellow kayakers sitting around a table at a bar & grill, reliving the prior good times. The laughter was non-stop for hours. But, the prior relationships aren’t required, as some of the people were relative newcomers to the fold.
That would also go for Thanksgiving. A holiday dinner, yes. But at Dave’s, it’s more like a big party.
Dave is related to my friend, which is how I got invited. However, it wasn’t limited to family, or even people who knew each other.
Dave has a large country home and invites people from various branches of his life, past and present. So, one minute you could be talking with someone he was in marching band with back in college and the next, one who shared in the Antarctic tour. It wasn’t like they were all fascinating, but they were all people you’d want to spend an evening with. I suspect Dave carefully selects the mix.
But, it isn’t as simple as the cast. You hear people say they don’t like New Years parties because people are trying too hard to have a good time. That may depend how it’s set up. I prefer a lower key format.
At the other end of that spectrum would be The World’s Largest Office Party. Or, so it was promoted (and may still be, for all I know). An annual fundraiser held in the ballroom of a downtown hotel. A good cause, but more like the world’ largest meat market. Thousands of dateless overindulging at the heartbreak hotel.
I did have a role in this and confess to enjoying it immensely. Celebrity bartenders were teamed at a dozen or so stations and rotated every couple hours. Drink tickets were sold at other tables, and the competition among the celebrities was how many of those tickets (plus tips) could you attract. The end product was to drive overall spending.
Put me behind a table of open bottles and some Bengal cheerleaders and I don’t even mind the drunks who get in my face and demand “Who the ____ are you?” Or, sometimes, when you met your co-celebrity, you’d hear that. Did I mention they were stretching the celebrity definition a bit?
When the event was in its nascency, the organizers had a hard time attracting big names to serve as the bartenders. I had a TV show and newspaper column of targeted (read “minute”) audience. It sounded like a worthwhile endeavor, so I agreed to participate.
As the event skyrocketed in popularity, many of the true celebrities wanted in. Far more than there were spots for. To the credit of the organizers, they remembered those who helped in the beginning and we were accorded first refusal on the coveted spots.
The best time I had doing it was when I was matched up with some college football coaches. They got heavily into war stories and inside information, and maybe a little too much into the bar inventory. A lot of outgoing personalities in the group and we did better in the ticket competition than one might expect.
The opposite of that was when I was paired with Dr. Henry Heimlich, originator of the Heimlich Maneuver (that’s for clearing an air passage, not a dating technique). The middle-aged newspaper guy and elderly doctor. Can you imagine the line of revelers in front of our bar? We were limited to the no-waiting market.
I was content to pass the time people-watching and doing quality control on our inventory, but the lack of attention did not seem to sit well with the good doctor. So, I suggested a marketing strategy. We would offer a Heimlich from Heimlich. That is, get your drink here and you’ll get the maneuver from the inventor and have that to brag about that. Would’ve probably been even better in an age of cell phone cameras.
The concept was not well-received by Dr. Heimlich. “Do you understand who I am?” he thundered. Duh, yeah. It’s not like it would have drawn well if he was, say, Jack Kevorkian.
Not my best holiday party. But, I’m not just trying to avoid the clunkers, now.
There is one other variable. I’m looking at a dozen invitations, with more coming in, applying to the next four weeks or so. Let’s project that will double. Being realistic, I’m working with about a half-dozen/month body. No, make that less.
Let the sorting begin.
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Key statistic
A former classmate emailed me some links on Facebook that he thought were interesting. He asked me not to forward the message or otherwise divulge his observation regarding our alma mater because a few of our classmates tend to be sensitive. Apparently, I didn’t make the sensitive list.
Respecting his wishes, I’ll omit the name of our institute of lower learning. The one FB group was “I was a (blank) cheerleader!” The other, “I played powderpuff football for (blank).”
The population of the latter group was 64 while there was just one woman in the former. My source of these links thought the 64:1 ratio was the significant statistic, but I lean toward the “just one.” In the long and storied history of our school, only one person will admit to having been a cheerleader. But, 64 females are proud to have laced up the cleats.
I like it.
Respecting his wishes, I’ll omit the name of our institute of lower learning. The one FB group was “I was a (blank) cheerleader!” The other, “I played powderpuff football for (blank).”
The population of the latter group was 64 while there was just one woman in the former. My source of these links thought the 64:1 ratio was the significant statistic, but I lean toward the “just one.” In the long and storied history of our school, only one person will admit to having been a cheerleader. But, 64 females are proud to have laced up the cleats.
I like it.
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