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

Minced Meet

Given all that it has done for me and my family (and you too, I'd suspect, since you're reading this), I'm a big fan of the Internet.  I dug 1.0, am still enamored with 2.0, am looking forward to 3.0 and hope to be around when 4.0 pops up.  Perhaps my yet-unborn grandchildren will make a killing--figuratively, not literally, I hope--with 5.0.

That said, I find I learn a lot by reading contrarian viewpoints, so I can't wait to dig into Andrew Keen's new book, The Cult of the Amateur--How Today's Internet is Killing Our Culture (capitals mine).

My namesake hooked me big time, on page 1 for crissakes, when he tells the story of meeting a much overdriven acquaintance who described his current project as "MySpace meets YouTube meets Wikipedia meets Google...on steroids."

Ween's classic reply, which one day may be an epitaph of this century's first decade, was to counter-describe HIS current project, the polemic about the destructive impact of the digital revolution on our culture, economy and values, as:

"Ignorance meets egoism
meets bad taste
meets mob rule.   
On steroids."

So strong was this Pow! that the book nearly fell from my hands.   Looking forward to this Labor Day Weekend, when I have a few hours to spare to take the rest in.

(By the way, with all the above "meeting" going on, could Keen be giving rise to Anti-Social Networking?)

Flooring Me

One of the world's most unique shopping centers is the Galleria Vittorio Emanuelle II in Milan (yup, still got LOTSA Italian Pow! to dispense). 

Built over a 13-year period and finished in 1878 (no typo, that's an 18), the curved iron-and-glass roof is flanked by imposing archways at each entrance, and covers a spectacular mosaic floor.  That's it above

No wonder tenants include Gucci, its namesake cafe, the first-ever Prada store, a Borsalino hat shop, and countless other chi-chi spending emporiums. 

But tucked amongst these high-falutent neighbors is a tiny bookstore called Libreria Bocca, which first opened its doors in 1775 (still no typo, that's a 17). 

The shop, which sells only art books (thus a must stop for yours truly), is unique not because of its long-tail merch mix, but because of its floor...and the floor's origin.

The floor itself if a work of art; many of 'em in fact, as a sheet of industrial-strength plexiglass has been laid over countless "tiles" of 39 x 39 cm paintings and photographs.   The works have been subject to two major exhibitions (entitled "Artisti in Cielo e in Terra"), and have become the subject of books themselves.

A cool conversation point, but one borne not just for aesthetic's sake, but for survival's. The survival of Libreria Bocca itself.

All of these works are donated by some of Italy's most notable contemporary artists, cost 500 Euros and all proceeds go to the store to help it maintain its increasingly incongruent, hard-to-hold-onto spot amongst its high-rent neighbors.

The store's owner, Giacomo Lodetti, is as chipper and wild as you'd expect an Italian artist to be.  He actually approached me when he heard me talking English, and asked if I'd write out a sign he could hang in his window that would explain the floor's concept to the throngs of English-speaking tourists flowing by.

I tried to explain to him that his floor should be the focal point of his window, and should be seen from as front by passers by, but there was only so much convincing I could muster with his broken English and my Lonely Planet Italian phrase book.

So the best I could do, I guess, is show it to you, with Giacomo, now that I'm home.

By the way, if you ever happen by the place, and see this most humble of window signs, you can say you know the author (that's both of us below).

The Last Supper (Or Lunch)

Oy.

As a follow-up to yesterday's post-with-the most, a couple of FOPs pointed me in the direction of Phoenix, Arizona's infamous Heart Attack Grill, notoriously renowned for its 8,000-calorie "Quadruple Bypass Burger" and its "Flatliner Fries," all served up by hottie waitresses dressed as nurses. 

The joint's slogan?

Taste Worth Dying For. 

Har har!

Whether you love it or hate the concept is irrelevant.  Check out its site, look around, and see if you can name any other restaurant--never mind a burger joint--that's generated this much attention.

Pardon the pun, but while this ain't everyone's taste, the sound of the Pow! is not just the explosion of patrons' arteries.

The most...excessive.

Adweek Revisited (Now Tangible!)

Remember that Adweek interview I spoke of a couple of weeks ago? 

Well, I was in Italy at the time, and was able to read the web version on the Blackberry while there.

Yesterday, for the first time, I got my hands on the print version.

Well...nobody told me it was a full page!

Or that it made the cover (see lower left).

Holy Egostroke, Batman!

All the attention of Senator Larry Craig...without the scandal.

The Most (insert something here)

Pow! doesn't just come.  You have to work for it, think about it, try a whole whack of things and if you're good--and lucky--something will cut through the marketing message mayhem. 

Maybe.

These days, one of the toughest fields in which to make some noise is, ironically, the music biz.  The easing of barriers of entry, the ensuing glut of artists and the annihilation of the label-driven model makes it more diff than ever to stand out and be heard.

But later today, a Vancouver band called The Thurston Revival will no doubt cause some stir when they release Somewhere There's an Angel in England, which they claim to be "the most expensive single in the history of pop music." 

The single will be limited to 100 copies, cost 100 British Pounds apiece, and as a tongue-in-cheek shout-out to marketing vets everywhere, be released on the "Victorious Kiam" label (ask your parents or your prof.). 

So what do you get for your money?  As explained by the band's bold publicist (and more, I'd suspect) Cate O'Connell:

"Each of the high-quality 12" vinyl recordings will come beautifully packaged, numbered and signed in covers designed by ten of the UK's most exciting young artists including Harry Pye, Jasper Joffe and Cathy Lomax. 

"These records will not be available in stores and will only be available at a special invite-only event in London's Sartorial Contemporary Art Gallery."

Quite an audacious stunt, and one that has been given the unanimous thumbs-up at Surprise Central, particularly when the reasoning behind it all is to make the statement that in a world of peer-to-peer downloading, "music still has a value" (a sentiment shared by my son Aidan, who actually turned me onto the band, and this attention-grabber).

You can check out the cover art at the Victorious Kiam website and listen to the track here.

And you can re-learn an old marketing lesson that I first absorbed when reading Al Ries and Jack Trout's missives in the '80s.  Paraphrased in a proverbial blogosphere nutshell:

Be the first.
And if you can't be the first,
be the biggest or the smallest.
And if you can't be the biggest
or smallest, be the most.
The most what is up to you.
Find a way to fill in the blank after
"The Most _______ "
...and you'll be something.  

Getting Serious About Surprise

In its pursuit of championing the element of Surprise and the use of Pow! in selling products, concepts and ideas, this blog has pointed out dozens of relevant and effective examples over the past year.

But the great power of the unexpected need not be limited to consumer goods and services, nor to all things "cute" and cool.

To see what I mean, check out the website for a unique and somewhat disturbing summer camp for kids called Camp Okutta (found at www.campokutta.com). 

This was sent to me by Teresa Beenken (one of the heads of the National Speakers Bureau, the agency that represents me to open my mouth on stage), who was turned onto it by Dr. Samantha Nutt, another one of her clients and one of this planet's great do-gooders.

Spend a few minutes and click around the site. 

Then you'll understand Dr. Nutt's connection.

...and how Surprise can be used to reach into hearts and minds,  not just wallets.

The Luxury of Self-Expression

Got a couple of emails (should use the comment box, folks!) about last week's post on wildman jeweler Franco Pianeconda.

In essence, the question being asked was: "How could a guy sell ultra-expensive jewelry with such a madcap, street-level attitude?"

The answer my friends, is not blowing in the wind, but through the pages of this month's Fast Company magazine, particularly in Dan and Chip Heath's "Made to Stick" column.

In it, they explain:

"Luxury has become more about
personal pleasure and self-expression
and less about status."

In other words, the Pianeconda attitude is more valuable than the jewelry.  But you need the latter to ooze the former.

They go onto take this one step further:

"Luxury goods...are the mark of connoisseurship.  But connoisseurship only works when you are recognized
as a connoisseur. 

"A connoisseur lives to be recognized
by fellow aficionados."

Pianeconda appeals to a certain few; the few who would probably be ignored or eschewed by a hoity-toity Cartier-wearer, but embraced by those "in the know" of his style and mind-set.  Kinda like the Chrome Hearts line of "screw you" accessories (if you have to ask, you don't wanna know).

Crazy, off-beat and inherently Surprising...but not unexpected in a world where the more beat up and skanky your jeans are, the more they cost.

The Little Things...Again

Not only do little things mean a lot, but little things can buy a lot.

Check out this photo of the two different entrances to the Chicco store in Milan.

The folks at Chicco know the three-fold benefit of providing a separate, smaller and funkier door for its junior clients; the raison d'etre for their business.

1) The tykes will beam with pride having their own entrance
2) Moms will think that this is the "aw shucks" cutest thing on earth
3) The store will be reknowned as "The one with the little door for kids"

Years ago in Montreal, the Brown's Shoe Store used to have a slide that took you downstairs to its kids department.  The lunacy and the noise may have been a pain in the ass for people working there, but there wasn't a kid in the city who didn't know about that slide (and this WAY BEFORE social networks!), and who didn't pull their parents there so that they could try it...again and again and again.

So look at the photo again, and then go to your nearest Toys 'R' Us or kids specialty shop and see what--if anything, but you know it's probably nothing--they are doing to directly relate to their diminutive target market.

(And if you do come across something Surprising, send along a photo or description for the benefit of FOPs all over the world.)

P.S.  I was a little bummed out knowing that I could still fit through the kids door...

Fruit Punch

There are ways to sell fruit.

Then there are ways to make you WANT TO EAT fruit.

Huge difference.

Supermarkets, corner Delis in New York, most fruit stores sell fruit.  They prop up the cardboard boxes, spray a little bit of water for freshness and gloss sake, maybe aim a light or two at the stuff and let you pick away. 

Then there's this very special fruit store we ran across in Casole d'Elsa, the teeniest of mountain-top towns in Italy's Tuscany district.

How could anyone resist?

I couldn't, and as silly as it sounds, I chomped down on one of the most memorable peaches in my life.  No need to squeeze, no fears of it not being ripe; the display captured my attention and earned my faith.

And I hope it inspires more than just this here blog post...

We NEVER Close!

I hate Open and Closed signs on stores.

The way I see it, there's sumpin' big-time wrong with your establishment if it doesn't pulsate a vibe of activity during opening hours, and even at 2:00 a.m. on an empty street, I always felt a "Closed" sign in the window sends a bummer of a message.

Put another way, you got trouble if your walk-up customers have to wonder whether you're open...and there has to be a way to continue communicating your message when you're not.

Case in point of someone doing it right was this Vilebrequin store I saw in Florence during my recent Italian jaunt.  These guys sell high-priced, luxury bathing suits for men, and even though the Florence store was a tiny, corner shop run by one sole salesperson, the lighting, the displays and the discrete sounds hammered home "Open"...even when no customers were in the shop.

But what I really dug was the what they did after hours (see photo below).  They ain't closed; they have just "Gone Tanning."

Skin cancer worries aside, this is a perfect example of literally sweating the small stuff for maximum Pow! potential.

Let's face it folks, in an always-on, interconnected, 24/7 world, can any one of our businesses EVER afford to be perceived as "closed"?

Your customers may not be able to see what you're doing, but don't let 'em think you ain't humming...

Bikes, Dykes, Hair and Flair!

"Revolution Montreal." 

Yawn.

Can't think of a duller, more nondescript name for a retail establishment.  No hint whatsoever at what goes in inside. 

So what do J.J. Levine and Danielle Flowers actually do in their truly revolutionary store in Montreal's Gay Village? 

They build and fix bikes...and cut hair.

Which is why their "sub-head" store name is the much better, way more descriptive, and exponentially-more attention grabbing:

Lesbian Haircuts And Bike Store

That's it in all it's handmade glory below, hanging in their store window.  Face it, that's the real star, the real pull, the one you won't forget.  Ever!  (To make my point, take this quick quiz--Don't look back and tell me: What's the official name of the store?)

Names are so, so, so (I can continue, but you get the point) important in cutting through the clutter of sameness.  Even if their powers of description are limited, names should at least be a door for the curious to open.  Christ, I could've named this blog "Cool Marketing Ideas," but who's gonna click on that?  I can't begin to tell you the number of visitors I get just from people clamoring to find out what my Pow! sobriquet is all about.

But I digress.

Danielle and J.J. run a truly cool 'n' unique business, which deserves world-wide attention.  To find out more, you could read Maxine Mendelssohn's upbeat piece on them in the Montreal Gazette, or check out their website, which is still called Revolution Montreal.

Yup, I know it SHOULD also be at www.lesbianhaircutsandbikestore.com ...which is why I registered and paid for the name before anyone else could swoop down and squat on it after reading their story.

But I don't want it or need it.  Which is why I'm offering to give it up to J.J. and Danielle for free.  Forever.  For the price of an email.

Hope to hear from you guys soon.

Speaking Up

When it rains it pours once again.

While I was in Milan, I did this interview about The Future of Mobile Games with Paul Hyman of The Hollywood Reporter. 

I've done hundreds of interviews in my 31-year career, but this guy was good.  Really good.  (Check him out at his communication company OpenMoves). More than a Q&A, this was a fencing match, with thrusts, parries and some definite challenges.  When I got off the phone with him, I knew this one was gonna end up a little different.

And so it was.

The original ran on Wednesday in the Hollywood Reporter, but was immediately picked up by the influential Game Daily and MoCo News (the ne plus ultra blog of the mobile content industry).  Next day, it was lead item in the Consumer Electronics Association's daily SmartBrief.

I got tons of calls, emails of support ("That's what we're all thinking but not saying," what the main message), as well as a couple of "Screw yous."

When you do interviews, it's impossible to know what--if anything!--is gonna connect.

But the way things work now, in what my friends Gavin Heaton and Drew McLellan have labeled "The Age of Conversation," you find out almost instantly when something does.

The Richard Branson of Jewelry

Franco Pianegonda is the Richard Branson of jewelry.

In Milan, where you can suffer from designer overkill after a mere one-block stroll down Via Montenapoleone, Pianegonda manages to stand out not just because of his daring designs, but because of his brash, on-your-face (not a typo) attitude.  His battle cry is Leave A Mark, and trust me, he walks his talk.

You know you're not in Cartier or Van Cleef and Arpels anymore when Franco touts his line with such Surprising ads as the one below (and despite the overt silliness, this ain't costume jewelry he's pitching; Pianegonda bling mixes gold, silver and diamonds of all colors).

Spending way too much time--and money, but that's another story--in his Milan boutique, what really got me was his corporate philosophy guide, tauntingly titled Don't Read!

Well, I did, and this glossy, eye-popping magazine was as insightful a marketing book as I've read all year.  And way up there on the entertaining scale.  In it, as type and photos battle for your attention, Pianegonda tosses out a series of "Don'ts" (in essence, warnings we've all heard in our quest for Pow!) and follows them up with contradictory, defiant pleas of passion.  Two of my favorites:

DON'T PROVOKE!
Provocation can be liberating.  Because not only does it challenge others, it is a challenge to oneself.

DON'T BE AN ITALIAN!
We may be chaotic, emotional and unreliable, but that's also made us expert survivalists, proud of meeting new challenges with truly Italian grace.

My suggestion to you on this fine day?  Be as wild and outrageous as Franco himself--email him and DEMAND a copy of this magnificent manifesto. Or if you've got a good long distance plan (or Skype), call him at 011 39 0444 613000.

A real find.  And a new fave at Surprise Central.

What You Want, Baby I Got It

Whew...

Just flew in from Italy, and boy are my legs tired.

Lots to tell you, but the jet lag and muscle fatigue make even typing a chore. 

So lemme leave the verbal eloquence in the hands of Nassim Nicholas Taleb, whose tome "The Black Swan" made the long flight from Rome much shorter.

In it, he spouts the words of wisdom that all marketers should heed as we go about our daily challenge to develop long-lasting relationships with our customers:

"It is my great hope someday to see science and decision-makers rediscover what the ancients have always known, namely that our highest currency is RESPECT."

Roll that one around your cranial areas for a while and start your week off right. 

They Drink It Like It's Water!

From here on in,  I will feel ripped off whenever I'm at a restaurant in North America because a big bottle of San Pellegrino water costs about a buck-and-a-half here in Italy.   Don't even get me started on the wine!

MeSpeak in Adweek

Okay, I know it's "per se" and not "per say," and I said the "advent of cable," not "the ads on cable," but my anal nitpicking aside, this is more than cool: a Q&A Interview in the prestigious pages of Adweek.

Jeez, I sure hope that Steve Jobs and Guy Laliberte are Adweek subscribers...

Where There's Smoke...There's Money

From what I've noticed after three days along Italy's highways, bi-ways and backroads, smokers are not content merely polluting the air we breathe, but the roads we travel as well. Not that this is a scientific study, but from a cyclist's point-of-view, about 85% of all roadside rubbish has been cigarette packs...obviously tossed out of cars as they whiz by.

So this got me thinking--why not impose a deposit on cigarette packs like they have on beer and soft-drink bottles?  A buck or Euro a pack and perhaps puffers will think twice about adding to roadway blight..."perhaps" being the operative word.

Even if not, a per-pack deposit can at least give rise to a clean-up campaign led by enterprising micro-entrepreneurs, who could've picked up an easy couple grand had they simply followed my route yesterday.

Either way, it's a win-win.

And another public service provided by Surprise Central!   

The view on the side of Italy's roads...

Theory 14--The Bike/Biz Cycle Continues.

As a follow-up to yesterday's Business/Cycling parable, here's what I learned on today's 40 kilometer roller-coaster ride:

Road conditions are like the people you work with, and the way they work together.  Doesn't matter what direction you're going--Uphill, Downhill or Straightaway--the make-up of the road is usually the primary deciding factor in the enjoyment of yourjourney.

A paved road is like a true, trustworthy team, working together to make your ride a pleasant one. Everything works better--grip, gear shifting, mood--when the road beneath you is smooth. 

On the other hand, rocky roads are just that. Yeah, they may hide behind the sexy Italian alias "Strada Bianca," but on dysfunctional, uneven, sand-and-stone terrain, you're on your own at all times.  Uphill is suddenly twice the effort, Downhill almost works against you, and even the steady flow of the Straightaway can be upended in a Tuscan second by a mere, nastily-placed pebble.  Treachory abounds in every direction.

Trouble in the office?  Forget the corporate shrink or consultant. Instead, invest in some molten blacktop...and a steamroller.

Theory 13--Why Cycling is Like Business

After a few days pedaling through the Himalayas--oops, sorry,  make that the rolling "hills" of Italy's Tuscany district--I have come to a stark corporate realization:

     Cycling is just like business.

This metaphor smacked me right between the cheeks while sucking back a Gatorade after yet another three kilometer climb in the smelter-like sun.  As a guy who has helped build two prosperous enterprises from less than zero,  and is just being introduced into the wonderous up-and-down world of long-distance cycling,  the similarities between the two are striking.

To explain, consider that Tuscany cycling offers you three choices of direction--the strain of Uphill, the ease of Downhill, and the relative peace of the Straightaway.

To me, UPHILL can be likened to being a start-up or being embroiled in some sort of crisis; your full focus is given to getting to the point where it's not so hard anymore. You don't even notice the gorgeous view, your surroudings, or even the passage of time. You just put your head down and concentrate almost exclusively on pumping your legs until you reach the top. Your speed is consistent, your movement a little wobbly, and if you don't keep going, you're gonna fall over.

Compare that to the ease of flying DOWNHILL, which I liken to a business that's doing so well it almost runs itself.  Effortless, you almost feel like a passenger...but this is where the most dramatic and costly mistakes can be made and your best chance for a sobering crash.  The ride  almost becomes too easy.  You think you're invincible,  get cocky and take your eyes off the road.  Watch out. The road can change at any second. Cars pull out of hidden driveways. People and animals pop out from nowhere. That downhill path can be interrupted violently at any time by things you cannot see.  Enjoy the ride, but don't forget to anticipate what may be lying in wait.

Then there's the all-too-rare STRAIGHTAWAY.  It's not nearly as exhilarating as the Downhill rush of a booming biz, but also not as exhausting as the Uphill pull of a start-up or a crisis. This is where effort and reward are at their most equal. The goal here is one of efficiency. You don't want to exert one more iota of energy than you need to. Operation of the machine--in my case now, my gearing mechanism-- at its optimum level is paramount. The Straightaway gives you the most time to think, plan and prepare for one of the two extremes you just know are coming. 

So there you have it. Roadside wisdom from the gates of Volterra. To close, one last comparison between business and cycling:

No matter how good you are at what you do, from time to time,  you will still have to deal with a little pain in the ass.