Pow! Right Between The Eyes! Andy Nulman's Blog About Surprise

The Worst Surprise is No Surprise

Calm down.  Despite the huge headline and the classic wide-eyed, open-mouthed Surprise face (the inspiration for the Pow! logo), there's nothing to get excited about.

The worst cliché in retail marketing unfortunately (and one that sadly sullies the subject matter of this here blog) is the Surprise Sale.

Put frankly, perhaps the only thing Surprising about them is that after years of all promise and no delivery, people actually believe that there is some sort of shock waiting for them inside the pages of flyers like the ones above and below.

Inside, for those foolish enough (or in the name of blog research) to actually take a look, is more of the same ol' song and dance.  Don't pay until whenever; a certain percent off; a boring gift; run of the mill merchandise in familiar settings.  Too much copy, not nearly enough reason to read it.

Bad enough on its own, but worse still when packaged with a promise of Surprise. Worse even still when one thinks of how easy it would be to put something together that would actually shock/delight a consumer.

Instead we get this double-whammy:  Boring AND Misleading.

Ho-effin'-hum!

No wonder retail is in the doldrums.

 

You Can Work Your Ass Off, Or...

After about a dozen keynotes and panels, meetings both scheduled and impromptu, and countless crossfires of bar talk, the wisest words I heard at last week's CTIA conference in San Francisco were uttered by some malcontent as he left the W Hotel and staggered along 3rd Street. 

Don't know who he was talking to, or about, prior...but it mos' def left an indelible impact on his sufferin' psyche.  To wit:

"There is no more
surefire success strategy
than nepotism."

Uh, have a nice week.

Free For All Pays Off

Did you hear that smashing sound?

On Tuesday at the CTIA conference, I broke a carved-in-stone vow when I appeared on stage as part of a panel discussion.

I had sworn off ever being part of another panel since a travesty of a Youth Marketing conference in L.A. in April. 

And for good reason. 

Most panels discussions are not. 

They are a falsely polite borefests where people speak one after the other for 5-10 minutes while the remaining panelists sit in stultifying silence waiting their turn. To make matters worse, most close with the perfunctory Q&A session...where there are few "Q"s and even fewer "A"s. 

Add to this mess a moderator who is either cluelessly unfamiliar with the panelists, or so filled with his own agenda he (and most are males) ignores those sitting next to him and delivers his own long-winded diatribe instead.

A recipe for irrelevance and disaster.  And one I'm not willing to partake in anymore. 

Give me keynotes, or give me death!

The reason I acquiesced was a promise made by my buddy Antony Bruno, the Exec Director of Billboard's Digital/Mobile Conferences.  He vowed that this would be a "different" kind of panel; one with no theme, no structure, no form and no holds barred.  It was his "experiment," he said, one positioned at the end of the day, with little to lose except about an hour.

Well, never mind "nothing to lose," there was everything to gain. The session, amazingly, ended up as a WIN-WIN-WIN, for those involved on stage, for the audience, and for Billboard Event folks.

This was an anomaly right from the start, where the standard bottled water before each speaker was replaced by six-packs of Heineken and Coors (full disclosure: this lunacy was my idea, was fully funded by Airborne Entertainment, and was in no way sanctioned by Billboard or CTIA...as if!), which were shared by audience members brave enough to take us up on our offer of "Free Beer!"

And once the ice was broken by a question from the audience, the session became a rollicking free-for-all where people shouted, argued, pointed fingers at each other, laughed, challenged us, fought with and supported one another.  They even gave broke into a spontaneous applause break when an audience member--Maggie Roswell, a vocal actor who does voices for The Simpsons--was challenged to do said voices, and rattled off about 15 well-recognized characters in a breathless minute (including the infamous Shary Bobbins, shown at right).

Meanwhile, up on stage, myself and three compadres needled, interrupted, ganged up on, and occasionally agreed with, each other.  At the end of the session, which went over its time limit by 15 minutes and would've kept going had we not stopped it, WE got out of our seats and gave the audience a standing ovation for being such spirited and hearty participants in this most unique of conference experiences.

What a blast!  And what buzz when it was all over. 

While smaller than some of the keynote sessions that dominated the day, EVERYONE at this free-form experiment was engaged in the conversation or debate. 

Compare this to what I witnessed throughout the day, where the audience paid WAY more attention to  their BlackBerries or laptops (or to the buffet table, as was embarrassingly the case when Quincy Jones was being interviewed) than to what was going on onstage. 

This is the difference between "Talk With You" and "Talk At You."  Who wants to merely listen when you can actively participate?

And while this took guts to try, it's gonna take even more guts to continue.

To be continued...I hope.

Steve Listens

Got this email from Mitch Joel while in San Francisco, only minutes after Microsoft's Steve Ballmer delivered his keynote address at CTIA:

Did you whisper this sweet-nothing in his ear?

http://www.news.com/beyond-binary/8301-13860_3-9802647-56.html?part=dht

 You have been saying that line for only about a half-decade or so ;)

--Mitch

As someone who used to work for us at Airborne, Mitch has heard me spout adages and aphorisms ad nauseum, but I still had my doubts.  So I checked out the interview I did with Adweek earlier this year and found the following:

You've referred to the mobile phone as being the "remote control for people's lives." Can you elaborate on that? 

Most companies replicate the desktop or a television [with the phone], but ... we see it as a tool to interact with the rest of your world. It's not just a screen, it's more like a mouse. We call it the "inside out" approach. ... Just watching a television show on it is like getting a computer just to write letters.

So Mitch, thanks for pointing this out.  I'll give you 50% of the royalty cheque when Steve sends it.

Sock In The Face

This I don't get at all...

I'm staying at The Serrano Hotel in San Francisco; a quiet, friendly boutique hotel with great personal service.  I check into my room and hanging next to a leopard skin bathrobe (quite the departure from the standard white terrycloth, I might add) were two pairs of the fluffiest, most comfortable-looking socks I had ever seen. 

A little web research (see what I do instead of staying out late drinking?) tells me they're "Lounge Socks" from Karen Neuburger.

Now, if I'm the Serrano, or Karen, I want someone like me to try these on.  Lord knows, if I actually like 'em, I might buy a pair...or knowing me, a dozen.

But check out the tag I found just as I was about to...well, "break apart" the socks.   On one hand, it cordially invites me to enjoy these socks during my stay and at home.  Everyday!

However, then it goes on to inform me that this enjoyment will cost me 11 bucks.

Now I'm no piker, but how do I know if I like these things without trying them on?

And how the hell could I try them on, let alone "enjoy them" without "breaking them apart"? 

This is a big tease; the "playing footsie" equivalent of leaving that big bottle of refreshing water with the outrageous price tag.

I don't want or need your socks, Karen.  You have chosen to invade my space and try to sell them to me.  Good on you for that, but bad on your misguided marketing folks to convincing you to cheap out at the end.

I would think, given the relatively (pardon the pun) well-heeled clientele of the Serrano, it would be a wise investment to let us sample these properly.  If they're as good as they seem, you'll sell zillions.

But trust me, I ain't the only hotel customer leaving these things hanging in limbo in the closet.

I'm probably just the only one blogging about it...and doing so barefoot.   

 

 

JEM in a Box

I suspect I have a few kindred spirits amongst you all when I say that I get more than my fair share of, shall we call politely it, "unsolicited marketing email."  Even the stuff we opt-in for gets tiresome, particularly because so much of it is dreary and uninspired.

So, imagine not just my Surprise but my delight, when I received the following email flyer from JEM, a Montreal employment agency putting out feelers for their clients interested in ticketing, packaging and light assembly work.  (Please ignore the "Francais"; it's a link in the original that translated the box copy.)

That's all there was.  No additional text, no extraneous words.  A simple message well-delivered.

And if the folks at JEM really wanted to knock it out of the park, they should put together a few real-life models of the above and hand deliver them to a well-targeted list of some of the city's more likely respondents.

Nonetheless, with this one, they had me at sello (tape).

Born To Run Meets Stayin' Alive

Just got back from an hour-long jog through the streets of San Francisco.  There are few better ways to truly discover a city than to run though it; the freedom of your feet allows you to explore nooks and crannies unreachable by bikes, let alone cars.

However...

Running through a city at random can also expose you to some, shall we say, "wrong parts of town."  Experienced this in Atlanta, Downtown L.A. and here about 30 minutes ago.  Faithful FOPs may ask:

How does one actually know
they're in a so-called
"wrong part" of town?"

Well, here's the rule of thumb, courtesy of this modern-day marathoner of a Margaret Mead:

If some of society's sketchiest characters
are Surprised to see you in their 'hood
and look at you as if YOU were crazy,
then you know you're in the
"wrong part" of town.

Another public service provided from your friends at Pow!

Live From San Francisco!

Well, that's where I'll be posting from next week via the Berry as I'll be attending the semi-annual CTIA mobile conference, and speaking at Billboard's Mobile Entertainment Live.

Seems like every time I'm in San Francisco for this show, something nutty happens.

My first trip in saw me pull an overnighter leaving from the continent's most western point at 10:30 p.m. for a speech at 12:30 the next afternoon in St. John's, Newfoundland...the continent's most EASTERN point.  (After a delay--what a Surprise!--in Toronto, I ended up making the speech by five minutes, but had no time to hit the hotel and change so I delivered it unshaven, in my overnight flight outfit of torn jeans, Rocawear oversized sweatshirt and gang-banger's knit skullcap.) 

My next CTIA was the scene of the still infamous Donald Trump dollar bill toss.

I can't even describe what happened at the last one two years ago, being sworn to secrecy in a blood pact.  Suffice to say, in the immortal words of former Airborne VP Marc Alloul:

"C'est la que ça se passe!"

Who knows what fun next week will bring?

Well, as soon as I know, you can be sure I'll be telling ya.  Have a great weekend.

Clint Eastwood Effect-- The Finale!

Whew!  They did it with just a day to spare, but they did it.

The Briggs & Riley folks called yesterday to say my bag was repaired and ready.

Just came back from picking it up and it's like new--new handle, new zipper pulls...they even polished up some of the scratches.

Gotta tell ya, I was getting a little worried, particularly since I said last week that I had NO DOUBT that these guys would pull this off in the time they promised. 

Use few words.  Live up to them.  Clint Eastwood would be proud.

Briggs and Riley--not just a great company with great products.  Great example setters.

My day's made.

Smile Like You Mean It

I don't know Gideon Rosenberg, but he's running for a seat in the local school board elections this week.

Now, school board elections draw minimal levels of participation.  Posters promoting candidates are--well, at least in my neck of the woods--drab, dreary, grey affairs, with dull photo surrounded by way-too-much text that nobody cares about. 

The only way to make these less visually appealing would be to make them transparent.

But--taking a cue perhaps from Pow!'s most recent diatribes about standing out--Gideon has found a way to separate himself from the pack.   

Instead of the standard "look into the camera" headshot pose, on Gideon's poster, he is reared back, face plastered with a Cheshire cat-swallowed-the-canary-like grin.  A little weird, and somewhat disconcerting, but undoubtedly an eye-opener compared to the sameness of his competition one sees while driving through our neighborhood streets.

Good luck, Gideon. If you don't win, at least you have a future as a dental model.

AM...Not Mourning

An AM radio station in Montreal recently decided to do something radical, shocking, innovative and--given the current shaky climate in the biz--ultimately surprising:

Play music.

In a "Back To The Future" programming move, CJAD 800, the station that trumpets itself as Montreal's News Talk Leader has added not one, but two oldies shows to its all-words-all-the-time lineup.

A strange move in a world of FM-Stereo, 4,000 channels of Satellite Radio and the ubiquitous iPod?

Yes, if you're trying to sell "music." 

No, if you're trying to sell "memories" (and commercials), as I suspect CJAD is.

My kids won't understand this, but people of my g-g-g-generation grew up listening to our tunes this way (a spirit time-capsuled so well by the band Everclear on their song "AM Radio," which you can watch here or simply read the lyrics).  I don't even think most under 20s even know AM radio EXISTS, never mind that once upon a time, it actually played those things called records.

So despite the fact that the music sounded comparatively muddied and distant on my car's eight speakers and sub-woofer, who cares?  Tuning into CJAD's experiment this past weekend was a nostalgiac, sentimental experience, complete with upbeat yammering deejays (Al Gravelle and Jake Lawrence), contests and call-ins. The only thing missing were the chipper, near-amateurish local ads and jingles from that era, which I'm sure the station can dig up and drop in from time-to-time.

If I had a dollar for every article or blog post about how "The Music Industry Is Dead," I'd be able to hire Seth Godin and Mark Cuban to write Pow! for me. 

We all know it's dead. 

But music isn't.  It's alive and, well...it's just being repackaged. 

Repackaged as a loss-leader for concert tickets or band merchandise. 

Repackaged as soundtracks for films, TV shows or (shudder!) TV commercials. 

Repackaged as novelty items like singing toothbrushes or sonic greeting cards.

Repackaged as a way to get you to drink more expensive coffee.

And, now that it's back on AM radio, repackaged as a time machine.

A warm, fuzzy one.  Well worth the trip.

Standing Up For Standing Out

As a follow up to the recent posts about standing out (like this one here, and this one), I came across this quote while perusing Fortune Magazine over the weekend.  In an essay entitled Creativity To The Rescue, former Young & Rubicam CEO Peter Georgescu spun these words of vindication:

"Commoditization--what I see as the cancer of 21st century commerce--has fueled ferocious price competition. 

"With price as the only real differentiator, producers are left with a challenge:

They must find a way
to stand out in a crowd."

This ain't about being flashy, or merely grabbing attention; it's the core of today's commerce.  Stand out or be stomped on.

One And Counting

This ain't no fishing for congratulatory messages, nor do I have any great revelations to go with it, but today marks the One-Year Anniversary of Pow! Right Between The Eyes.

The process has been a learning one, more for me than for you guys I would imagine, and it has resulted in a world of new friends, about a dozen speaking opportunities and two hardcore business opportunities for Airborne Entertainment.

Worth every ounce of energy I've put into it, even those times when my personal challenge/pledge of five posts a week* left me begging for inspiration.

But it always came to me, and obviously...so did you.

Alright, onto Volume II...

(* P.S.  For those counting, this is Post # 330, which makes it almost one a day.  Just like the vitamin.)

Buy One, Set One Free

There are marketing gimmicks, and there are marketing game changers.

Blake Mycoskie's Tom's Shoes is not just a game changer...

it's a world changer.

How's this for a simple offer you can't refuse:  for every pair of Tom's you buy, the company GIVES AWAY a corresponding pair to a needy child somewhere in the developing world (Blake started with Argentina, and has expanded the program into Africa).

No fine print, no "portion of the proceeds"; just a non-nonsense, bold, feel-good Pow! of a marketing idea. In fact, calling it a marketing idea almost cheapens it.  This is the soul of a new way of doing business.

The shoes themselves are comfy slip-ons, replicas of traditional Agentinian farmer alpargatas. Think Espadrilles and you get the point.

Never mind the point; get the shoes themselves by heading over to the Tom's site.

Your feet will thank you for it.  And so will some grateful child thousands of miles away.

Starck Raving

Okay, so sue me; I "borrowed" the title of this post from the article in Fast Company about iconoclastic designer Philippe Starck. Within the piece--which is an incredible mindboggle of a read--was this definition of how one "knows" they are in a Starck-designed building:

"When you open the door
and walk through the lobby,
you will go 'Oh, it's weird.' 
Everything is too big, too small. 
But it will give you some energy. 
For me, I am just a producer of Surprise."

Just?  Puh-lease. 

Producing Surprise is why Starck is one of the world's most in-demand designers of everything from furniture and buildings to homewares and private yachts.  Check out this Professor of Pow! at his website...or at the hippest hotel near you.

"Clint Eastwood Effect" Follow Up

About two weeks ago, I recounted my experience with the Briggs and Riley luggage company and its simple, few-worded lifetime guarantee. 

In a smooth, friendly transaction that took less than five minutes, the local repair center took my massive Wheeled Wardrobe (that big boy at left), asked no questions other than my name and contact phone numbers, gave me a claim check and told me they--and the bag--would be back to me between 10 and 15 business days.

Today's Day 10. 

And guess what?

I have NO DOUBT that I will be putting an end to this saga within five more.

Stay tuned...

Radiohead Meets Cowlick-head

Had lunch with the omnipresent Mitch Joel last week which is always fun, eye-opening and educational.  Despite his rapid mellowing with age (the former headbanger actually asked our waitress to turn down the "Slamming" music), Mitch was raving about the exciting new ploy by Radiohead where--starting today-- fans can access their new album "In Rainbows" exclusively from their website...and pay only what they want.

Gotta give Thom Yorke and the guys credit; as Mitch himself said a few days ago, "Radiohead has embraced the Trust Economy online."

Exciting, yes.  But hardly new.

In fact, over 70 years ago, Alfalfa, Spanky, Porky, Buckwheat and Darla did the same thing in a Little Rascals episode called "Pay As You Exit." (That's a still from it at right.)

I'll let you read the entire synopsis here, but in the proverbial Surprise Central nutshell, the kids were putting on an outdoor version of Romeo and Juliet, and had to prove that the production was worth the one penny ticket price. 

So in an inspired stroke of marketing genius lightyears ahead of its time, Alfalfa himself comes up with the idea of charging the audience as they leave instead; the proof being in the pudding, so to speak. In Joelian phraseology, "the Cowlicked Head embraced the Trust Economy in the dusty backyards of the Great Depression."

Now there's no shame in this.  What Radiohead is doing is indeed cool and drives home yet another spike in the coffin of the label-controlled music biz.  But as we've said before many times here, everything old is new again.

The idea is not the thing; ideas a dime a dozen.  What counts is how you spin and execute them in your image.

So good luck, Radiohead. 

And Alfalfa, wherever you may be right now, I think the band owes you a free download.

Pump Up Your Volume

Last week, I promised you a primer on how to stand out.  But before I give it to y'all, let me explain from whence it comes. 

Back in April, I was one of 100 bloggers worldwide asked by Drew McLellan and Gavin Heaton (two of the People I Dig listed at left) to be part of a collaborative book project called The Age of Conversation.  We were given free reign to write what we wanted, as long as our "chapter" focused on communicating with others. 

Well, given the focus of my entire life, never mind just this here blog, I decided to hone in on what has brought me to this point--the ability to shout (without pissing too many people off).  If you dig the following, you'd be well-served by buying the book, as there are 99 more such heartfelt and headspilled pieces within it.

So, without any further ado, here's my 400-word opus.  Turn up the volume.  And repeat often.

-------------------------------------------

HOW TO SHOUT!

All our lives, we’ve been told to keep quiet. 

As babies, we’re told to “Hush,” to stop crying.

As kids, we’re told that we should be seen, and not heard.

Even as adults, the e-world’s rules of etiquette frown on EXCESSIVE USE OF CAPITALS lest it disturb all the other poor ones-and-zeroes that make up our emails.

Well, this “minifesto” explodes the notion that silence is golden.  In fact, to borrow the famous anti-aids slogan, to effectively converse in today’s all-pervasive multi-media environment, Silence = Death.

Imagine how ineffective Martin Luther King would be had he whispered “Shhhh…I have a dream.” Would art thieves continue to pursue Edvard Munsch’s “The Sigh”? And would Billy Idol have had as big a hit with the song “Rebel Murmur”?

For years, the art of shouting (yes, the ART) has endured a bad rap… probably because those who used it most are crass, aggressive boors.  It’s time to break that stigma. Just like paint can be used to create a masterpiece or a mess, when in the right hands, shouting is a deft, expressive tool.

Consider conversation to be shades of black, white and grey; shouting is the color. 

If conversation is made up of periods, commas and the occasional semicolon, shouting is the exclamation mark.

Like singing, great SHOUTS come from the gut, not the throat. They are emotional, not rational; inspired, not contrived.

Shouting is not about making yourself heard. It’s about making yourself interesting. And making yourself into someone people will want to converse with.

And shouting doesn’t necessarily mean pissing people off. It doesn’t necessarily mean speaking, either. Used properly, a raised eyebrow can be louder than a jackhammer. It’s all about context, and the courage to stand out from the norm.

Yup, it could still backfire. Think of Howard Dean’s guttural yelp during 2004’s Presidential race. There’s a fine line between raw emotion and madness. But who’d you rather have in the White House today—screamin’ Dean, or quiet, condescending Bush?

So shout, shout, let it all out. Don’t be afraid to live life loud. Puff up your chest when you walk into a room. Stand out, don’t fit in. Do it with your clothes, your accessories. A wallet (brown, boring) can hold credit cards, or (Paul Smith-striped) make a statement.

Let everything you have scream your name and establish your personal brand as one of animal magnetism.

ROARRRRRR!

The Magic Car's Lesson (Fall #5)

So, as Fall Week comes to a close at Surprise Central, here's the lesson emanating from yesterday's diatribe about my Corvette:

It Pays To Stand Out

"Generating Surprise" is a tactic. It's an incredibly effective one, and the inspiration for this blog, but just a tactic.  It belongs to the greater strategy of "Attracting Attention."  And that's a key strategy to survive in today's hyper-competitive biz world.  Other than the CIA, I don't care what business you are in--going unnoticed is the highway to going broke. 

Back to the Vette for a second.  My office at Airborne has an underground garage with a dangerously steep driveway that peaks and opens onto a bar-and-restaurant-filled pedestrian mall called Prince Arthur Street.  I have two cars, a black Jaguar X-Type and the aforementioned Vette.  When I roar up the driveway in the Jag, nobody gives me a second look (unless I almost run someone over at the top).  I am anonymous. 

But when I do the same in the Vette, all the action on the street freezes.  The car is a retina-magnet, a conversation starter, a target for pointed fingers.  People instinctively gather around, start to chat, give me the thumbs up (for some strange reason).  It adds at least five minutes to the journey every time I leave work.

Such is the power of drawing attention, of standing out.

And remember, this car is close to a half-century old.  Most people on the cusp of 50 are starting to slow down, to gravitate towards beige and boring.  The Vette shows that audacious old guys can still cut it.  To that end, I saw two older gentlemen this week.  One wore a shapeless pair of khakis and an off-white, long-sleeved polo shirt.  The other wore a navy blue sport jacket, red flower in his lapel, and an aqua blue cap. 

• Who do you think attracted more eyeballs? 
• Who would you think has better tales to tell? 
• Who would YOU rather hang out with?

Rhonda Byrne made a fortune with her book The Secret, which she says "reveals the most powerful law in the universe."  That law is one called The Law Of Attraction.

But as much as you wait for it, Attraction doesn't come on its own.  You have to draw it out.  You have to be the worm on the hook, jiggling for the eyes to bite.

And the only way to do that is to stand out from the crowd.

Not everyone can drive a classic Vette.  Or wear a turquoise hat.

In fact, it can be quite intimidating trying to stand out.  But it can be done. 

Lemme put it another way--it MUST be done.

I'm taking the weekend off, but next week, I'll be back with a short primer telling you how to do it.

Right now, I'm off to take the car to its winter resting spot.

The Magic Car (Fall #4)

Forget the season's solstice; there are two key events that truly, officially mark the beginning of Fall:

1. My biz partner Garner wears shoes instead of sandals to the office
2. I finally acquiesce and put my beloved Corvette convertible away for the winter

I can't speak for Garner, but I know I try to postpone the inevitable for as long as possible.  But over the past week or so, the increasingly chilly weather made it hard to drive the 'Vette at night and morning, and even on sunny afternoon, there's a substantial bite in the open air.  The end is near for '07.

Now, people who know me can't believe I can be so attached to a piece of metal (well, fiberglass in my case), 'cuz I am not one of those obsessive creatures known as a "car guy."

I'm an aesthetic guy, a surprise guy. 

And that's what makes my convertible such a great companion.

You see, it's more than a mere automobile.  It's a Magic Car.  Really. 

No matter where I go with it, it brightens people's moods. It inspires upbeatness.  Everyone smiles.  

Ev-er-y-one.

From burly, menacing Hell's Angels to curious Chassidic Rabbis.  From little old ladies to major babes. From gearheads to eggheads.  Kids ask to pose for pictures with it ("It's a superhero car!" one kid cried), and producers have asked to use it in movies (Yeah, right! Like I'm gonna let you drive it...).  I can't tell you how many times people have asked to buy it.

And no matter where I go, people stop me, roll down their windows, shout from balconies and ask me the same three questions:

"What year is it?"
    (Answer: 1960)
"How big is the engine?"
    (Answer: No clue...whatever you say)
"Is it the original paint?"
    (This one kills me....I just say "Yeah")

What's more, the Vette inspires no envy.  People tend to adopt it and treat it like it's their own.  Once, outside a restaurant, my son and I watched as some guy admired the car, then reached inside to pick out some of the early autumn leaves that had fallen on my seats.  Another time, outside a chi-chi designer's store, a girl ripped into a guy who just so happened to park his Ferrari behind my car.  "If you wanna impress someone, park behind a Chrysler mini van," she screamed for some bizarre reason.  "This car beats your car's ass!"  Thank God he didn't beat hers...or mine.

As hot as this car is, it's a simple piece of work.  No power anything.  Roll-down windows that don't roll down all the way.  Steering that's a better workout than my gym regime.  All powered by an engine, while big and roaring, that's positively Flinstonian compared to its modern-day brethren.

Still, this car turns heads whiplash fast.  And there's a lesson to be learned from all this.  But I've rambled on way too long today.  I'll learn ya the lesson tomorrow. 

Until then, parked outside Montreal's fabled summer hot rod hangout The Orange Julep, here is my Vette (with my son Hayes in the driver's seat) in all its glory.

 

Gettin' Up For Good (Fall #3)

Buried within yesterday's post was a reference to the slogan "I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up," made famous (infamous?) by those cheesy Life Alert TV ads of the '90s. 

Well, after doing a wee bit of research, the team at Surprise Central wore its face of shock when it discovered that the USA Today, in a series of lists compiled to celebrate its 25th Anniversary, named the ad and its catchphrase as the #1 TV ad "We Can't Get Out of Our Heads."

While there is a difference between being memorable and being tortuously emblazoned upon our frontal lobes so that we'll never forget it, but a win's a win, I guess.

To show our respect, the entire crew here is spending the rest of the day on the floor.

So High, Solo (Fall #2)

This is a different type of "fall," but...

When I ran the Just For Laughs Festival, I saw a lot of shows.  Thousands over my 15-year career.  Things have let up since starting Airborne, but given my professional heritage and my interest level, I still see way more live performances, of all kinds, than the average bizman.

This is said to establish my credibility for what I'm about to say (and add to the luster of whom I am about to extol), so...last week, at a dance/music/acrobatic show I saw called Line 1...

Dom Dagenais performed
one of the coolest, wildest,
most eye-popping and awe-inspiring acts
I've ever seen, anywhere!

A spunky little rock star-type (that's him below) , Dom stands on the edge of a large trampoline and starts to lay into an inspired guitar solo.  He then falls (there's the connection!) backwards onto the tramp, twists and gets up, all while continuing the solo.

Then things get REALLY crazy.

Over the period of about five minutes, Dom jumps, flips, twists and somersaults all over the trampoline, sometimes soaring eight-to-10-feet in the air, and yes, all this without missing a note.

Truly something that has to be seen and heard to be believed.  And trust me folks, after years of seeing everything at least twice, I don't impress easily. You can see it for yourself on YouTube (thanks, Gabriel!).   

Didn't have a chance to catch up with him, but the story is that he was a championship trampolinist (is that what you call them?), until an injury put him out of international competition.  Suffice to say that the Olympics' loss is the stage's gain. 

Dom's act is so killer that it should be a staple at every NBA and NCAA Basketball half-time show, and it would be way better a warm-up for rock concerts than some of the poor souls that are thrown out to try and feed their unknown tunes to the lions every night.  And at five minutes, it's the perfect TV/Web/Mobile Video length.  Every second of it rocks.

It would be a true injustice if someone doesn't get on Dom's case...and soon. 

A true Pow! performer.

Catching The Worm (Fall #1)

My favorite season has begun. 

As much as I love the freedom and speed of summer, and the snowboarding opportunities of winter, fall has always been my calendar's best of time.  So with that, all posts this week will deal with the most special of seasons; Pow!'s version of Shark Week, I guess.

So...

A fixture around my parts as the seasons transition is the Garage Sale.

I could fill a couple of terrabytes with my horror stories about the Garage Sales I have regretfully hosted,  particularly my dealings with those most rancid of individuals--The Early Birds.  For those lucky enough never having to deal with these creatures, they are the ones who ring your bell at 6:00 a.m. when the "event" is called for 9:00.

Anyway, one of my denizens has found a way to deter those annoying worm-catchers.  To wit, the bottom line of a flyer for a Garage Sale I spotted this past weekend:

"EARLY BIRDS
WILL PAY DOUBLE!"

That oughtta keep them away...until at least 7:30.