Why is GEICO awesome?

Time for the debut of my alter ego:

The Marketing Genius('s Assistant)!

Frank, my editor, added in those punctuations, so neveryoumind them. Except the exclamation point, of course. That's all me! The first rule of marketing is: Emphasize the awesome by adding exclamation point(s) as necessary!!!

The second rule of marketing is: If you disagree with the first rule, just leave this stuff to us, the geniuses (and their noteworthy assistants).

Today, let's ponder GEICO, America's 3rd largest auto insurer who could save you 15% on car insurance if you just give them 15 minutes; a process so easy that modern day cavemen could even do it.

Why is GEICO awesome? It's clearly not because they put a (!) at the end of their brand name or slogans, which they don't, but they do have an ALL CAPS brand name, which is almost as good. (However, I did hear that Sam Mendes is working on a musical based off of the company's history, set in rural London, tentatively titled "GEICO!") No, it's truly awesome because I did absolutely NO research to tell you that information. I know those things because of effective use of the tried and true element of the advertising biz, the "TV ad".

Am I saying they're awesome simply because they have gimmicky characters, like a cheeky talking gecko, or the aforementioned cavemen, or googly-eyed stacks of money (my personal fave)? Nope, that's not enough in the bottom-line world of marketing, no sirree.

As this one great economist once said, "It's the message, stupid". It's not the gimmick itself, or the way the message is presented. It's the content of the message. The ink on the paper, not the pretty letterhead. The trailing banner behind, not the single engine aircraft. The concept of "d-e-f-e-n-s-e", not the cheerleaders barking it. And other interesting analogies, too.

Look back at all the silliness, the purposely low-budget appearance of the ads, the cavemen spin-off opportunities, and remember that all they're trying to get you to remember (point approaching) are the following words: "save", "money", "car insurance", and "fancy a crisp?"

Now, what about the results? Does the brand's obvious effect on this marketing genius guy put the googly-eyed money stack where his mouth is? (maybe rethink that sentence. -Frank) Answer: No. I don't really think about my insurance very often. I used my parents' insur...er? insurrector? back in the day, and then when I switched states I took my wife's insur...ance provider. I'm big into family plans, I guess.

So I don't pay any money to GEICO, but I love GEICO's message enough to write about it. Which leads us to the 3rd rule of marketing: If you can't sell your product to someone, maybe you should think about giving that person your service for free, in return for them writing an awesome column unmonetized blog post about you.

The End of Summer Out Here in Utah

In a previous post, I mentioned how much fun it is to have to talk about weather all the time at work. Well, it reached a new low pressure system the other day, when a Sales Guy called from some provider of some valuable service which is guaranteed to provide valuable value, boost ROI, improve logistical flow-through, and make my Mother proud. These Sales Guys really need to tone down their rhetoric by the way. Anyhoo, after identifying himself as Sales Guy from Illinois, he signs off the voice mail with, "Hope the weather out there in Utah is treating you well. Take care."

Those were his exact last words before hanging up; I was so impressed with them I backed up the message and wrote them down as I listened a second and third time. This Sales Guy, endlessly pressured for new accounts, wants money I don't have in the budget for his magical wonderservice, and he leaves me with a comforting wish that atmospheric phenomena are treating me, personally, with kindness. This is what he must want me to remember then, right? You start and end your sales pitch with things that last, everyone knows that. What better than a weather well wishing? But not just a generic "Hope you have a sunshiney day", no! Give it to them in a more personal way so they will relate to you!

One of the things I'm thankful for in my career is I haven't had to cold call, ever. I was technically a salesperson right out of college, but I was never selling a brand new thing to a brand new account. Actually, I never really sold an old thing to an old account, either (ha ha!). What I'm saying is, I'm lucky the previous marketing administration quit, because I'm not very good at sales.

I had a fun adventure last night. I went shopping with Zoey for a birthday gift for her friend from school. Zoey is 8. When I suggested we get the girl, who invited her over not only for the 6pm party but directly from school today so she doesn't have to go to daycare (awesome!), a birthday gift for her troubles, Zoey rattled off the list of things Emma is dying for: "makeup, like lip gloss and those little kid makeup sets, and she loves loves loves perfume, and she also wants new necklaces like the peace sign ones I have...". Huh, alright. I didn't even know who Emma was until yesterday, but you apparently know everything about her. Anyway, we went to the superstore for last minute gifts, Walmart, and I spent a good 10 minutes in a makeup aisle fending off adult-shade lip and cheek applications and encouraging she get "up to 3 or 4" of the $0.89 tubes of pink glittery stuff. We settled on some fake nails, and I let her get a set, too. Emma is going to be thrilled with the little flowers on the tips, ohmygosh!

We also got the kid a Hoops & Yoyo birthday card--have you seen these things? My family has begun making them a tradition, and they are often hilarious. These little recorded voices come out of the card giggling hysterically and subtly insulting the recipient. You have to listen to them 3 or 4 times to get everything, but it's worth it. The one I got on my birthday will be opened no less than 100 times over the next week, and by then I will want to strangle Hoops with his Yoyo. But they're funny.

Last weekend was my big sports/birthday trip, and it did not disappoint. Below are a couple photos. Everyone who matters knows about Michigan's big win by now, and looks forward to their HUGE crosstown rivalry game with the mighty, uh, Emus? of Eastern Michigan University. EMU is located in the hipster village of Ypsilanti, a town so famous due to its name, that when you ask locals where they're from they simply reply "Ann Arbor". Except my friend Charlie, he's really proud of "Ypsi"; perhaps because they use really clever puns in their advertising. You "auto" see it!

Happy end of summer. :( <-- Sad face.

My 31st Year: What Have I Done?

I stole that title from a previous post I wrote, and I like it because you can read it one of two ways (just in case you can't hear the inflection in my text):

"Hmm. What HAVE I done, anyway? Let's reflect..."; or,

"OH MY GOSH WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

I'm reflecting, frantically, because next Saturday is my birthday. The big 3-1. No longer just 30 which, let's be honest, simply meant "not in my 20s anymore"--a surprisingly harsh reality that was difficult to accept, and even difficulter to get up from after crouching for any more than four or five seconds. When did a physical act as simple as "the crouch" become something you must truly question whether to attempt or not? Do I have a nearby wall with which to brace myself? Will my trick knee decide to flare up, causing me to groan inappropriately loud as I rise? Do I have enough give in the seat of my pants? Years back, the crouch was an afterthought; a simple and necessary tool for several sporting positions, also known as a "stance". My favorite was the "three point stance" in basketball. This clever device allows one the leverage to either pass, dribble, or shoot the basketball. Ha ha! You'll never know silly defender! Only they knew with me. If I was in the three point stance, one of my two signature moves was imminent: the "sit back down on the bench", or the "ankle sprain". At least then I had the will and joint lubrication to spring right back up.

Also, I don't really have a "trick knee". I just like the sound of it. Maybe if I spent 20 years workin' on the railroad I could get away with that sort of embellishment. So, sorry about that, railroadmen. I didn't mean to demean your 2nd favorite ailment behind "spike-through-hand".

I'm celebrating my 31st birthday by doing what any responsibly maturing man would: flying across the country to watch sports. And I'm dragging my wife! We'll be popping into Detroit for a Tigers game on Friday with Brad and Andrea, staying there that night, then meeting my parents in Ann Arbor for Michigan and Notre Dame. A birthday treat worthy of former president Gerald Ford and The Pope! It's been almost 3 years since I visited the Big House, and despite all the program's efforts to become a horrible football team the past two years, I'm stoked to go back, and maybe more stoked to have my wife go with me. She'll finally understand just a smidgen more of my personality and my tendency for withdrawal on fall Saturdays. I don't know that she'll understand why the Michigan Wolverines are "Champions of the West", nor why we sing the words so heartily, but then again, nobody really does. We just do it because it's college football.

This time of year always feels new because school sessions are starting. But even as a workin' man, it makes me feel I should work a little harder and "think about my future". So, in a clear sign of advancement, I'm thinking about taking a class. At a college. I considered enrolling in High School Government class just to relive the fun, but they didn't like my voting record. Instead, I'm going to take a class called "Toolbox Basics". No no, it's not a lecture on how to become a tool. I'd be in a much more advanced class than "Basics" for such a topic. It's a class to help me learn how to write. I'm not sure what I want to write yet, but at the least I'm moving closer to my goal of wearing jeans or corduroy pants and a sweater every day, not shaving, developing neurotic quirks, and having everyone accept those things for the sake of art. Wish me luck! And...I have to say it...GO BLUE!