Monday, September 15, 2008

Road signs below.

 
I sometimes wish that every communication could be as simple as road signs. I realized this as I was heading up the New England Thruway toward Rhode Island, where my wife and I were going on vacation. I'm talking about the simple signs that proffer a location and tell you where it will be. "Wilton 1 mile," "Merritt Pkwy Right Lane," "Detour Ahead"–these are the beautiful expressions of an uncommodotized geography.

Yes, there are other kinds of road signs. There are exceptions with verbs in them. But those aren't what I'm talking about. Those signs belong along the Autobahn, they're so German and bossy. They tell us to "Get off here," "Buckle Up," "Left Lane Must Turn Left" or "Stay in the left lane if you want to end up in Hartford, Connecticut, you dumb ass!" I resent the tone.

But the simple ones I like as if they are the unattainable ideal for all marketing. Do I love them because our world is chock full of desperate attempts to differentiate? For whatever reason, I just love, "Hartford 11 miles."

So, unless absolutely necessary, forget the descriptors. Who needs "Historical Hartford," "Scenic Hartford" or "Hearty Har Hartford 11 miles." In Connecticut, there's only one Hartford and it is what it is.

Forget the euphemisms, too. Did you know that Hartford has been the Insurance Capital of the World? Imagine if it said, "Hartford, Insurance Capital of the World 11 miles." This might have meant something at one time but it can no longer be a source of pride for everyone in Hartford nor would it appeal to every visitor from out of state. I mean, I think it was during the 70's when there were more insurance jokes than lawyer jokes, if you could believe it. The sign might as well read, "A New England town where people love to hear about other people's operations, where everything's done the hard way and everyone sings along with elevator music...11 miles." Personally, "Clothes Ironing Capital of the World" sounds more inviting. But that's just me.

 
Anyway, when we pulled off 95 and saw the shoulder of the road dusted with sand and we smelled a hint of sea air, we passed a wooden sign that read, "Bait, Beer & Gear." Imagine if it was, "Le Collage De L'homme." Certainly, by becoming more than facts, a sign limits our audience, in this case to guys who drink beer, like to fish and maintain a fondness for the French. Let's face it, such a man may not exist.

Ah! to dream of seeing only products and labels that differentiate: Men's Clear Stick Deodorant, aisle 4" or "Cheez Whiz at Stop & Shop."

Oh well. But as an ideal of sorts, it's yet another indication that we should probably stick with the facts as much as we can. The more we enhance and try to promise, the greater the chance that someone ends up in a state no better than the one they are already in.

Friday, September 5, 2008

A groan is not a laugh.

 
Don't you hate when you can hear a dumb joke coming from a mile away? A few weeks ago, watching the Olympics, I heard the announcer introduce a trampolinist named Dong Dong. You heard it, Dong Dong. I started to write a bit about Dong Dong, trying to make the point, with a little humor, that if you want to impress someone, it would be advisable to give your product or service a good solid name. But I scrapped it. It started to sound stupid. Dong Dong may be right up there with Moon Unit Zappa, Mike Huckabee and possibly even Dick Hurtz, but it was just 3rd grade name-calling. So I was relieved to see that Dong Dong only won bronze. Had he won gold, too many of the English speaking press, the talk show hosts and the bloggers might have thought it was a win win.