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

The Long Fuse (of the Time Bomb)

Brian Grazer.  Co-founder of Imagine Entertainment with Ron Howard.  Brilliant film and TV producer, but never figured him for a Surprise marketer.

However, a recent piece in the New York Times shows that he's a sneaky little bugger, and a master at the game.  To wit:

LOS ANGELES (NYT)— Brian Grazer, one of the most successful producers in Hollywood, would seem to be a memorable guest, with his energetic manner and elaborately spiked hair. But to make sure he is not forgotten, he will often leave behind a small photo of himself in an inexpensive heart-shaped frame after attending a dinner or party, hiding it among his host’s family photographs.

Over the years, he has left these photos at the homes of movie executives, socialites and even one in Fidel Castro's military compound. “When I first started doing it, some people got really angry,” Mr. Grazer recalled. “That made me continue doing it. I get to see how long it takes for them to find it and whether they think it’s funny. It’s interesting to see what they’ll do with it.”

At Surprise Central, we call this "Time-Bombing," where you plant a marketing seed that explodes and spreads its Pow! factor at a later date. (Take that, Chris Anderson!  You got the Long Tail, we've got The Long Fuse!)  I've pulled this off a number of times, but perhaps the best Time Bomb campaign I've seen was instigated by my biz partner Garner Bornstein when we were running a website called TheFunniest.com (the precursor to Airborne Entertainment). 

A notorious practical joker, Garner printed golf balls, emblazoned with our company's notorious Fupp Duck mascot, our phone number, and the message "Generous Reward If Found."  Well, we gave these out to every client and at every trade show, and played with them (and in my case, very poorly) at every charity tournament. 

This was nine years ago, and we still get calls from people who find them in some rough or drag them out of some swamp.  The Surprises are numerous, particularly when they learn that there is no real reward other than the joke of finding 'em.

TheFunniest may be long gone, but its spirit lives on!  I think I'll send a dozen over to Brian Grazer...

Naked Came The Stranger

Big kudos to the folks at Bear Naked Granola folks for puttin' together the best and most Surprising Hallowe'en promotion EVAH!

While the big boys stocked supermarket end-caps with stacks of junk food, Bear Naked recruited wigged-and-costumed college student street teams across the country, reverse-engineered the concept of Trick-or-Treating and went door-to-door to GIVE AWAY hundreds of thousands of granola samples.

Door-to-door marketing used to be a familiar, homespun North American staple (remember "Avon calling!" and the Fuller Brush man?), but with modern innovations like home invasions, they have kinda fallen out of favor. 

Which makes Bear Naked's reverso initiative even more brilliant.

The company's marketing director, Ryan Therriault, admitted that going door-to-door "is looked down upon," but said that "Hallowe'en was the one day of the year that people would actually be expecting someone to show up at their door," so...

This is supreme Surprise marketing; as good as it gets.

Coming up next--Bear Naked's Christmas promotion, where Santa takes presents and slides UP the chimney.  (And then fights a lawsuit from The Grinch.)

Groove-y

Well, now that the winter has hit my hometown, the noises under my car become a lot scarier as I plow over ice blocks, slush puddles and hidden potholes.

Oh how I wish I were in warmer climes, most notably Japan, where the Hokkaido Industrial Research Institute has created the "Melody Road," pictured below.

Like those gravelly rumble-strips carved into highway shoulders to warn you when you're veering off-road, the grooves in the Melody Road are spaced such that a car's tires passing over them at 28 MPH or so will produce high and low notes...and the ensuing Surprise of a low-tech musical interlude.

While I don't see this replacing radios, CDs or MP3 players, the highway strips open up a whole new world of advertising as corporations can carve their jingles into the blacktop, leading to everything from Name That Tune contests to sonic accompaniment to roadside billboards (or a musical lead-in to multi-vehicle pile-ups as drivers' attentions are diverted).

No matter how primitive the fidelity, the melodies of this road will still sound better than a broken axle or blown tire.

The Instant Sizzle Reel

The above video--a random collection of some of my fave pix from the history of Pow! dancing to the music of Misportrayed (my son Aidan's old band)--was put together in about 3 minutes by an ingenious Web applet called Animoto.

Yeah, I know I can accomplish the same thing if I play with iPhoto or Nero or whatever for a bit, but Animoto actually did this for me.   In no time.

Essentially, all I had to do was choose the photos, choose the music and push play.  The learning curve was non-existent, a vertical rocket; I literally went from discovering the site to final product above in five minutes. 

Now, for a maestro of PowerPoint who's called upon to give countless visual presentations throughout the year, this is a Godsend.  I can use it for intros, for extros, for summary Sizzle Reels...the possibilities are endless (well, they will be when Animoto releases its Biz version early next year).

I also know the above ain't exactly great art.  But it's more than good enough for my needs.  And with its automated effect generator, Animoto can remake and remix your presentation over and over until you're satisfied--or fed up--with it.

No, this won't replace professional tools or editors or high-end video presentations, but Animoto does for pictures what Typepad and Blogger did for writing--provide a simple, foolproof tool that democratizes visual communication. 

Check it out here.  And for a real treat, take 60 seconds to watch its inspired "Learn More" video.

Domo origato, Animoto.

Dry Cleaned!

Told you about spending some time with David Suzuki on Monday, and not only did I get to enjoy a truly inspirational lunch with the man, but he managed to solve the hand-drying conundrum that so perplexed me last week.

According to David--and if anyone, HE should know--the lesser of all environmental evils are the paper towels..."primarily because most of them are low-grade paper, and recycled," he explained.

Ahh, another question of the ages solved.  Not to mention a lot less hand-wiping, wear-and-tear on my Nudie jeans.

And now, to search for the meaning of life.

The Great Unwashed

So I got a new pair of jeans.

Ho hum.  That makes about 29 of 'em.  And despite my long-time love for Levis, I decided to try something a little new this time.

I went with an Italian brand named Nudie, and its Slim Jim Dry Organic Denim. 

Uh, but not because of the way they look on me today. 

Because of the way they will (should...I hope) look on me in June of 2008.

Until then, to get the optimum look, Nudie is telling me NOT TO WASH these jeans for a minimum of six months. 

Now I know this sounds loopy, but there's a method to the madness.  According to the book that comes tucked into the pocket of each dry jean (written in magnificent Italian English):

"Real denim lovers use their jeans dry and we promise you a great result on the naturally-worn denim.  If you wait at least six months before washing and use them a lot they will get fabulous.  The indigo will be worn off the jeans in places where you make natural creases.  When you finally wash your well-worn jeans, the indigo will fade off and you will get contrasts in those places. 

"If you wash your dry denim after just a short period you will get a basic pair of navy blue jeans, which is quite boring actually.  You have then started the magic bleeding process too soon and the possibility to get the marvelous contrast in creases is gone."

Cool idea.  In a world where most every premium jean really kinda looks about the same, Nudie is differentiating itself NOT by the look, but by the STORY. 

Since I bought 'em, I've worn 'em four times, and each time, just HAD to tell people about 'em (when was the last time YOU did that about a pair of jeans?).  And people I've run into since look at whatever jeans I'm wearing and ask: "Are those the ones you're not supposed to wash?"  (And when I asked the woman who sold them to me what happens if I spill some ketchup or mustard or maple syrup on them, she simply replied: "Wear 'em dirty!")

Yes, the company has a whole line of regular, pre-washed jeans as well, but so what?   That's everyone else's story.

The great unwashed ones have taken on a life of their own. 

And will continue to do so for another half-year. 

May not be great hygeine, but it's great marketing.

Arrested by The Police

In a life filled with Pow! moments, last Monday was one of the most memorable of all.  Get this:

I got to sing onstage with The Police.

That's no typo.  Let's see if I can make this long story short...

It all started six weeks ago when Stephen Bronfman asked my biz partner Garner Bornstein and I to co-chair a fundraising event for one of his pet causes, the David Suzuki Foundation, an important environmental organization (and one you should check out right here, by the way). 

The event would be limited to 100 people, who would not only see The Police show from choice seats and enjoy a high-end cocktail party at the legendary Queue de Cheval steakhouse, but be invited to sit in on the band's soundcheck at the Bell Centre the day of the show.

Tickets sold in a flash; I mean, seeing one of the world's most legendary bands privately, in an intimate setting is truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

Well, people had no idea how once-in-a-lifetime it would be.

At about 4:30, the guests (which had now swelled to about 125) seated inside the empty arena, watched as drummer Stewart Copeland and guitarist Andy Summers took to the stage.  Sting followed a few seconds after, and while holding his bass, was curiously dressed in a coat and long scarf wrapped--not around his finer--but a few times around his neck.

"I have a bit of a cold," he said softly, "and to avoid putting any undo strain on my voice, I'm wondering if there are any volunteers down there who wouldn't mind singing the songs for me..."

The audience looked at each other incredulously and hesitated.  But this closet rockstar wasn't gonna let an opportunity like this pass me by, so I jumped up, yelled a hearty "C'mon, let's go!" to our guests, and head up on stage.

There were about 10 of us on stage when Sting pointed to a small TelePrompTer screen with the lyrics of "Every Breath You Take" on it.  Suddenly, he started plunking the song's unmistakable bass line, and said "Let's get the blokes to sing the verses, and the ladies will sing the chorus."   Some guy I don't know started the song, and then Sting tugged my jacket, said "You're next," and before I knew it, I was belting out the second verse through the arena's P.A.

Surreal.  Luckily, I knew the words by heart, so I could turn back and see Stewart Copeland behind me and Andy Summers to me extreme left...just to make sure this whole thing wasn't being imagined.  (It wasn't, as you see now...)

This continued for about 45 minutes.  About half the guests made it up on stage, if not to sing lead, to sing along, to dance or to just say that they were onstage with The Police.  This was a Surprise they'll be talking about for the rest of their lives.  When the band left, they did so to perhaps the loudest proportionate Standing O (remember, there were only 125 of us) they ever got.  And one well-deserved.

So, three things to close:

1. The band didn't have to do this.  They could've run through a quick, perfunctory instrument and microphone check-up and fulfilled their part of the bargain.  That they decided to explode a Pow! moment of epic proportions proved them to be veritable gentlemen, and endeared them to all of us (and probably to you folks, now) forever.  Great P.R.  (See the YouTube clip of "Every Breath You Take," unfortunately filmed AFTER I was done, here.)
2. This was no ploy; this was making the best of a bad situation.  Sting's cold turned into a flu, which forced the cancellation of the band's show in Philadelphia two days later.
3. When Garner and I got to meet Sting backstage to sign a bass guitar we would later auction off for charity, his first words to me were: "Hey, you were pretty good out there! You knew that song! I may have to call you down during the show to help me out."  P.S.  I'm still available...

Oh, and one last bit--hanging with David Suzuki was the added bonus to this dream.  More on him later this week.  But for now, a couple of bonus pix:

And In The End (Speech Week Bonus Post)

A final word of wisdom (well, three of 'em) as Speech Week comes to a close at Surprise Central--

The three most anticipated words in any speech:

"SO, TO CONCLUDE..."

Enjoy the weekend and see ya back here Monday with the story of one of the greatest Pow! moments I've ever experienced.

Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself (Speech Week #5)

A little secret from a veteran speaker...

The most important part of any speech is the one most speech-givers leave in the hand of others:

Their introduction.

For years, out of ignorance or politeness or both, I allowed my hosts to do the honors, and most times--while always well-intentioned--the result was a rambling re-cap of my official biography, with emphasis on the most benign parts, spiced with a combination of mispronounciations, editorial comments (usually over-the-top flowery) and attempts at humor (usually at my expense).

Once, to add insult to injury, I was introduced to present my "How To Do The Impossible" speech, when I was booked--and prepared for--a completely different one...which sparked quite the memorable on-stage panic repartee between the host and yours truly. (Yeah, yeah, I know...while this blog is the global proponent and cheerleader for Surprise, this is one I could've lived without.)

So no matter where you may have to speak, to avoid any confusion (and more importantly to set up exactly what you'll be talking about), take the matter into your hands, write your own intro...and smile when you insist it be read verbatim.

You'll breathe easier, and your host will probably breathe a sigh of relief as well.

Take Me To The Other Side (Speech Week #4)

Okay, let's get serious here for a bit.

Whenever I've been asked to speak--from professional conferences to Fortune 500 companies--the time on stage is only part of the commitment. 

The other part is the courtesy paid to those engaging you, an "over and above" ranging in everything from having dinner with upper management the night before to hanging out after the speech to answer questions and sign books.  All in all though, it's quite gratifying compared to the alternative...being ignored.

At last week's MDS Nordion speech, the "over and above" cordiality was to spend four-and-a-half hours amongst its staff, learning its 2008 direction and objectives.

At first glance, that's quite the ask; I have enough problems sitting through a half day of my OWN company's meetings, never mind those of a company way beyond my intellectual stratosphere. 

But at the end of the day (which I mean literally, not figuratively), I was quite grateful.  I learned a whole lot about nuclear medicine, personal medicine, high-tech cancer treatments, molecular imaging and (ouch!) sterilization.  I'd tell you more, but I'm under the NDA they made me sign (I'm not kidding here).

Point here is, while it sounds like a cliché, there are big benefits to be gained by stepping out of your box and stepping into the unknown, the un-understood, the un-comfort zone. 

Fact is that even though I attend the two CTIA conferences every year to keep up on what's going on in my industry, I learn a whole lot more--and, more importantly, open up way more business opportunities--when I'm at conferences UNRELATED to my day-to-day biz (like the Sports Biz conf in New York, the Cable TV conf in Toronto or the CaseCamp I attended last year, that spawned not just this blog, but my fascination with Surprise marketing).

So while I know that we're all overloaded, and it's tough to stay on top of what goes on in our own chosen fields, trust me, it'll pay major dividends to open up your horizons and take in a conference, a speech or a lecture that is so far away from your day-to-day.

At best, you'll come away with new knowledge and open doors.

At worst, you can at least work it out and get to sit next to someone cute. 

Dry Cleaning (Speech Week #3)

I have a ritual before every speech I give. It's a simple one, really, based on both hygiene and vanity. 

In a nutshell, I hit the bathroom to wash my hands (important since I will be shaking countless others before and after the speech is delivered), brush my teeth (just like a clean car seems to run better, I think my words sound better coming from a freshly-brushed mouth), and check my frontal view for anomalies--spinach between my teeth, stains on my clothes, askew shirt collars or the like.  Once the checklist is affirmatively and positively finalized, I head back into the room, or backstage, for my intro.

That said, here's what I've taken away from my past six speeches:

You can't wash your hands
anymore without feeling guilty

While I know that washing them is imperative, drying them seems to be the issue.  In the past few month, in places as diverse as the Four Seasons Hotel to San Francisco's Moscone Convention Center, I've seen just about every method of removing excess moisture heavily chastised.

Paper Towels--wasteful and bad for the environment
Power Dryers--waste energy and (apparently) send germs airborne
Fancy Hand Cloths--re-usable yes, but waste energy AND pollute the environment via the laundering process

You can't win. 

And I can't deal with the guilt.

Which is why, from here on in, before every speech, I will wipe my freshly-washed hands on my pants...water stain be damned!

Let It Slide (Speech Week #2)

A sign of the impending apocalypse, or at least that the generation gap is widening beyond control--

Last week, packing up after the aforementioned MDS speech, I recalled overheard two people discussing PowerPoint presentations, and one asked quite genuinely:

"Yeah, but why do they call them 'slides'?"

And I realized that if you're under 30, you've probably never had to feed a rickety tray filled with celluloid-and-cardboard squares into a clinky mechanical projector...and hope for the best.

So to those who have never seen one, this is what they look like:

Coming up next--washboards, rotary phones and Telex machines...

The Doors--Live and Loud (Speech Week #1)

As a follow-up to last month's Fall Week (posts from October 1 to 5; Surprise Central's version of Discovery Channel's "Shark Week"), for the next five days, all Pow! posts will focus on reflections I had before, during and after a speech I gave for MDS Nordion last week (by the way, I just set the Guinness World Record for most use of the word "week" in one sentence).

So, without any further ado, I bring you...

Speech Week!

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

As most FOPs (Friends of Pow!) will tell ya, I speak at a lot of conferences.  Attend more than my fair share as well.  Most of them within the confines of  multi-doored, mega-structures called "Convention Centers."

So here's today's Question of Perplexion:

If these halls are built for speeches,
why the hell are the doors within 'em
so interruptively, obnoxiously LOUD?

It boggles the mind.  It seems that the smaller the meeting room, the louder the Kerchunk! of the handle and the longer the hydraulic wheeeeeeze of the door itself as it opens and closes.  It's like an alarm that signals "I have to pee," "The speaker is boring"...or worse.

The result is a pain in the ass for everyone involved, particularly those on stage who are disrupted not only by the doors themselves, but by the headturning and general reaction of those in the room as THEY react to the noise.

Time Magazine just named the iPhone as Invention of the Year for 2007. 

Well, if you get started now, and come up with a silent door for meeting rooms across this land, you will get my vote for 2008.

And gratitude from speakers and audiences everywhere.

Wipe Out!

No flimsy pens, flashing pins or cheap mints for Scott Pinizzotto's Brondell bidet company at trade shows.

Capitalizing on the Green environmental boom, Pinizzotto is handing out rolls of toilet paper as promo items at trade events; a 30-cent item with a million-dollar impact, thanks to a label-wrap emblazoned with his company's challenge:

Let This Be Your Last Roll

The label also lays out a host of stats, including the one which boasts that Brondell's bidet "reduces toilet paper use by 100%."

The concept of bidets hasn't really caught on yet in North America, but anyone who has spent any time in Japan over the past few years comes back singing the praises of the heated, multi-jet-nozzled seats-and-bowls (see below), which do everything but play the national anthem and pat your butt when you finally stand up. 

But let's face it folks, Green and hygiene issues aside, these things make you feel better than a long walk through a short Red-Light District.  You'll replace your magazine rack with War & Peace...and the entire Time-Life Library...of everything.

But this ain't just bathroom reading.  Brondell bidets have been featured as one of the 100 Cool Gadgets in Wired Magazine, and the company has raised funds from prestigious investors like Mark Cuban, who knows something about being a major pain-in-the-ass...

...and now, about how to soothe one.

Here Today

Look folks, I'm no mega-star, but from time-to-time, I get invited to some pretty high-falutin' events.

Two such gatherings took place over the past month; one the booklaunch of former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney's memoirs, the other an A-list black-tie affair to launch McGill University's ambitious $750 million capital campaign. 

And at both events, despite my natty dress and best behavior, despite my achievements with Airborne and Just For Laughs,  I was met with this following reaction (from a power lawyer at the former and from the illustrious wife of a higher-up at the latter): a twist of the nose, an adjusting of eyeglasses, followed by the somewhat incredulous words

"What are YOU doing here?"

First of all, whatever happened to a simple "So nice to see you!" followed by a smile ?   

But I digress...

The important lesson here is not one of social grace, but of Surprise.  People obviously see me more at home in torn jeans at a White Stripes concert than in a tux at a chi-chi fundraiser (in fact, some people still have trouble believing I own a tie).  No prob; if that indeed is my Personal Brand, so be it.

But being underestimated is the friend of Surprise; it sets the bar low, and allows one to make an even greater impact once he or she stands out.

In fact, I'd MUCH rather be met with a "What are you doing here?" than a yawning "Oh, you again..."

Great Surprise stories--in sports, business, anywhere there is adversity and the chance of triumph against the odds--are written by Underdogs...not by Overcats.

And being underestimated is the Underdog's jet fuel.

So grow your skin thick, and drink up!

The world is waiting for you to show them exactly what you are doing here.

Color My World

Kudos to the folks at GoSmile, the teeth-whitening system which recently entered the Pantone Matching System with a shade called "GoSmile White." 

(I used the stuff earlier this year, and while the ampoules were cool, the toothpaste--while outrageously expensive--was out of this world.  Worked pretty well, too.)

Jeez, you can't ask for better marketing than that, being the standard-bearer for the color white.  I bet the detergent marketing people at P&G are kicking themselves for missing the boat on this one...

Along with Tiffany Blue, UPS Brown and Target Red, GoSmile White is part of the new breed of corporate "sponsored" shades; the natural progression, I suppose when we've run out of inanimate objects to name colors after.  I mean, which came first, the colors Peach and Avocado, or the edible orbs they are named after?  Yet another question for the ages...

If this keeps up, Kenneth Cole Black may be "the new black"...

And let's not forget about Pow! Crimson...

Apple Bites; Future Looks Bright

Over the weekend, I bowed to new tech peer pressure and replaced my ancient (13-month old) iPod Nano with a hot spankin' new iPod Touch.

The product is superb; web browsing is simple, music interface is a blast, great widgets...basically all the benefits of the iPhone except for the phone, which is actually the iPhone's weak link, but I digress.

But this story is not about the product itself.  It's about the Surprising way I was treated by the two companies I dealt with to buy it--Apple and Future Shop.

Friday night, I get the iPod home, and immediately start playing.  Everything works great, save for the much ballyhooed "vertical/horizontal screen flip" (where you can view content portrait or landscape-style).  Seems the internal gyroscope was out of whack, so I called AppleCare service for a little AppleLove.

Unfortunately, my call must've got re-routed to Microsoft or perhaps even Taco Bell, as the Apple rep knew sad little of her company's new (one-month old) flagship device.   

When I told her my device didn't switch screen formats, she asked me what video I was watching.  "None," I responded, "I was browsing the web."  She then told me that the screen didn't change for that. 

When I countered that indeed it did, she was incredulous, and asked me where I had learned of such a preposterous claim. "On the promo material inside the box!," I replied, somewhat...yeah somewhat exasperated.

Well, her next diagnostic suggestion led me to re-setting the entire device via the web, wiping out all downloaded music in the process.  A half-hour later, no difference--the screen-changing was still sporadic at best.

"Faulty device," the rep surmised, and told me to return it to the point of purchase for refund or exchange.

CHHRRRIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Saturday morning, I have a brunch scheduled with my family, so I head over to Future Shop bright and early.  I hunt down Johnathan, the guy who sold me the iPod a little more than 13 hours prior, and recounted my story of woe.

"No prob," said he, "we'll exchange it for a new one (which was my choice).  All you have to do is wait in that  Customer Service line..."

To which he pointed to a serpent made up of two dozen or so humans.

No way.  No effin' way.  I politely (and believe me, I held my cool, but it was tough) told Johnathan that there was no hope in hell I would ever wait in that line, particularly with my family waiting for me downstairs at a restaurant.  Just gimme a new one and I'm out of here.

"No can do," was his reply, "but don't worry," he continued (get ready for the Surprise of your life)...

"I'll wait in line FOR you."

I couldn't believe my ears, but took him up on it. 

And after a leisurely breakfast, I returned for the iPod.

The bad news was I didn't get a new one.  The good news was that Johnathan, while waiting in line, consulted one of his confreres who explained that to get the screen to change, the unit has to be held perpendicular to the floor, not parallel.  The gyro doesn't pick up the motion otherwise.

That was it.  That simple.  I hope the Apple woman is reading this.  Or at least plays with the device a bit.  Guys, I thought you were better than this.

Johnathan, of course, got a big tip (which I will write off on my taxes as a donation to the "Keep Andy Sane" charity).  Go figure I'd get that type of service from a big box store. 

And I learned a huge, most valuable lesson--if you wanna know something about anything technical, don't ask the company that made it...

Ask a teenager.

The Day The Music Didn't Really Die

Two things I love:

1. A contrarian viewpoint
2. A good fight

So imagine my glee as I get to enjoy both at the same time with the recent brouhaha over the Radiohead "pay what you want" download concept and Madonna's $120 million "360-degree" full service deal with Live Nation.

Both deals saw headline performers eschew their longtime record labels for an independent route, which last week's Entertainment Weekly called in a cover-page shout out:

"The Week That Changed Music."

Meanwhile (here comes the contrarian and fight part), over in last week's Billboard Magazine, Exec Editor Bill Werde writes a very heartfelt and headsmart piece entitled:

"Contemplating Two Weeks
in The Music Biz--
That Changed Nothing."

While reading the full piece is time well spent, here are some of the highlights:

"It's true, the majors are in a bad spot...the big four still lean heavily on the blockbuster, and as contracts for legacy artists expire, many will be tempted by other arrangements.

"But while the mainstream media churns out articles explaining how the Internet enables artists to go labelless, the situation is more complex.  The Internet doesn't make celebrities.  The Internet is a distribution platform.  And now that celebrities are reaching the end of their label contracts, it makes financial sense for them to take their celebrity out the door.

"If Radiohead were a new band, how much attention would they have received for their efforts?

Werde makes a valid point.  Some things easy to do when you're backstopped with money and recognition.  But to those tens of thousands of bands plugging themselves on their MySpace sites, it may be noble for them to buck the system...but it doesn't make it any easier for them to make a real living. 

Werde goes on to use the ubiquitous Tila Tequila as an example.  The self-proclaimed "Queen of My Space," with over 2 million friends in her social network, could only muster less than 1,000 downloads of her new single the first week of its release.  Christ, even my off-tune rendition of Green Day's American Idiot (and there ain't no link coming, folks) could do numbers like that with a banner ad or two here at Pow!...

Look, despite my love of the music biz and a jaw-dropping collection of recordings ranging from Edison cylinders to MP3s, I'm no expert in it.  But with a history in selling stuff to an audience--both at Just For Laughs and with Airborne--I know that the most important driver of any consumer-touching company is a hit.   

Be you a restaurant, a seller of waste-paper baskets, a fashion designer, a blogger or a monopolistic software behemoth (Microsoft's Steve Ballmer, at the recent Masters of Marketing Conference, bemoaned: "We need hits.  Whatever a hit is, we need it!"), a hit product drives your business...and eventually gives you enough power to "eliminate the middleman" a la Radiohead and Madonna and so many more to come.

If the record labels go away, someone's gonna have to find a way to make musical hits.  And I ain't talking languishing on the Long Tail with a few hundred sold here and there; I'm talking mass-market, on-everyone's-lips, soundtracks-of-our-lives songs. 

Without them, there won't be anymore aging superstars to give their music away for nothing or for Live Nation to sign.

And no more knockdown debates over game-changing deals.

URL-evant?

Okay, so the post title may be a little tough to comprehend, but on Monday, a bus billboard made me question the efficiency--even the purpose--of slapping one's website URL on every marketing touchpoint.

Case in point here was the aforementioned bus ad for a breakfast specialty restaurant in my parts called Chez Cora.  The ad was a simple one, basically pairing the words "Wake Up Montreal!" with Cora's sunshine logo.  That's it.  Nothing else.

Conspicuous in its absence was the company's web address...which got me to thinking--at first--that someone had forgotten it.

But then, upon more profound reflection (all this at a red light, I must add), I figured that what benefit would it have added to this ad?  Was I really going to grab a pen or my BlackBerry and take a note of www.chezcora.com while waiting for the light to change? 

And if by some chance, say I really wanted to visit the company online, today's search engine technology would bring me there, eventually, even if I misspelled the name.

URLs obviously have their place, particularly in "teaser ads" like the one for Moxi in this month's Wired (the  headline reads "Stay Interesting," the subhead says "It'll change the way you look at TV," and then there's the URL moxi.com).  These ads are mere jump points to a more detailed, more compelling web selling experience.

But as time marches on, most URLs will be irrelevant to plain folk, relegated to become background code, kinda like our IP addresses or our DNA structure (or even telephone numbers, many of which are anonymously hidden behind names or nicknames on our SpeedDial lists).  Like a good limo driver, we'll just ask our web devices to take us to our destination.  They'll know the address.

In the tradition of the 1989 Field Of Dreams  maxim of "If you build it, they will come," today's website slogan should be: "If we wanna go somewhere, we'll find it."  Without ever taking note of the URL.

Right now, I'm starving.  I wonder if Chez Cora is still open?