Ever since I was turned onto the discipline in Junior College, I've been enamored with the art and practice of marketing.
That's not the disappointing part. That'll come after this little personal history.
I majored in Marketing in University, I voraciously inhaled volumes from people like Al Ries, Jack Trout, Tom Peters and Roger von Oech to learn more, and when I got into the workplace, I rocket-launched all sorts of tactics--some standard, most explosive--to help sell my company, my products, my services, myself.
Such is the case of the video screens just installed at Le Pascha, the salon where I've been getting my hair cut for over a decade.
Now I'm not talking about the waiting area TV, which broadcasts the game-du-jour or the golf tournament. I'm talking about the half-dozen or so screens planted eye-level, in between the mirrors and seats of the hair cutters and hair cuttees.
In addition to weather and news reports, the screens display ads from a local Audi dealer, from a high-end watch-seller and from all sorts of other merchants trying to reach this relatively well-heeled, most captive audience.
The change in atmosphere has been palpable.
Instead of flirting with the manicurist or the shampoo or manicure girl, instead of bullshitting with the guy in the chair next to you or catching up with the latest gossip from your cutter (or in my case, ujsing the hour to chill out and catch up on your magazine stack), you now find your eyes hypnotically glued to yet another sales pitch and your attention diverted away from the human hubbub around you.
I guess this is a good thing for Le Pascha, which pulls in some additional revenue from renting their space, and for the advertisers who have new eyeballs to access.
But here's what I learned while getting my hair cut this week:
Sometimes "Ad Creep" creeps too far.
These days, it's frighteningly everywhere. I can't even relieve myself in a public toilet anymore without being smacked in the face and sold something (usually very relevant, mind you, like condoms, breath mints or cars). And why I would never even think about changing where I get my hair done, I must admit that it's hard to ignore Le Pascha's new omnipresent electronic glow.
Perhaps the solution is, like with cigarettes and smoke-free zones, we can create some marketing-free zones. Create some place where screens display art, where people interact with each other, where some commercial-free radio service plays calming tracks.Hmmmm...sounds so utopianly-pleasant, I betcha I can get it sponsored.
By Le Pascha.