Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Marketing Geniuses - Hooah!
I'm sitting here watching TV getting madder and madder at the commercials. Usually, I watch watch shows recorded on my DVR, or I'm far enough behind that I can use the DVR to skip through commercials.
Tonight, though, I've fallen victim to the try-too-hard-and-miss-the-pointedness of modern advertising. Let me breakdown the commercials of this last break:
Geico Lizard: His boss is in the bathroom trying to convince him of a boring ringtone. Lizard doesn't like any of the ringtones, boss's phone rings and his ringtone is an old man rapping. Hillarity ensues. By the way, how many schticks does Geico have? Cavemen, Lizard, Twilight Zone Guy, Money with Eyeballs - all the things that make up the hallucinations of a doped up hobo.
Ford Commercials: You know the new ones that have some hip person saying something they love about the car(i.e. you don't have to carry keys because you can unlock the door with the keypad, so you can wear skinny jeans)? Name one guy in those commercials that doesn't pee sitting down. It's like the advertising department did all of their casting at the local Banana Republic in the Men's Petite Section.
Progressive: I'm about 2 more "Flo" commercials away from going on a murderous rampage while screaming "Flo" the entire time I'm firing my Tommy Gun into the crowd. That's how insane her voice, stupid hair, and "tricked-out name tag" makes me.
I've decided if I ever have a company that does national TV advertising, the first person I'm going to call is whoever handles marketing for the U.S. Army and/or National Guard. I will offer that person as much money as they want to do my commercials.
I'm not kidding. When I go to the movie theater and they play those 2-minute-long military advertisements/music videos about being a soldier, I am so fired up that if they had a sign up table outside the theater, I would run out there and join.
I tell my wife everytime we go to the movies that I'm joining the military - and I'm not kidding. At first she was like, "ummm...great idea. You have a family, genius, and I don't want you to die. You can't join the military." I've said it so much now that she's like, "OK, honey. Make sure to write us letters when you can. Good luck at boot camp. Pack some sunscreen for Afghanistan."
By the time the movie is over I've come to my senses and realize I shouldn't join. But it's the fact that their advertising makes me want to that shows how effective it is. Maybe they use some kind of hi-tech, top-secret military equipment that sends a specific shockwave to my brain that makes me want to do whatever they put on the screen.
Or maybe I'm just gullible. Whatever it is, it works.