Big Mouth Blues

People are always asking me why I give away so many amazing ideas for free.  My answer is always the same: I do it for the love, not for the gold.  Worldwide fame and recognition beats a few million dollars any day.

But I have to admit that today’s idea is so good, so easy to execute and so lucrative that even I have reservations in letting it go for free.  I see the site traffic that comes from NBC Universal and FOX so I know that one of you guys is going to snatch up this idea and run with it.  Oh well.

I present to you…The Infomercial Channel.

What this world needs now more than ever is a 24 hour cable channel that is dedicated to celebrating the art of the infomercial.  There are millions of people in this world (not even counting stoned college kids) that love watching infomercials purely for entertainment value.  I know that I sure do.

I’ve even thought of some initial programming for the channel:

Ron Popeil Classics: The King of the Infomercial would host a show that played old Ronco informercials while Ron provided commentary.  Who wouldn’t love to watch the Veg-O-Matic, the Chop-O-Matic or the Showtime Rotisserie (’set it and forget it’)?

Biography: A look at the lives of the most famous infomercial stars of our times, for example: Billy Mays (watch his hair get darker!), Mike with the Ugly Sweaters and glasses and the British guy with the suspenders.

Behind the Pitch: Similar to Biography, but for the more salacious characters in the infomercial world.  Obviously the Vince Schlomi/ShamWow episode is already in pre-production.

Face-Off: Real “as seen on TV” products are put to the test to see if they really deliver on their promises.

The Next Infomercial Star: A reality show where regular people compete to become the next iconic infomercial pitchperson.  Judges may include Ed McMahon and MC Hammer.

28 Minutes: A free-flowing discussion with infomercial experts that discusses the craft of making infomercials.

Cele-B-rity Showcase: A snarky pop-culture look at all of the B-list celebrities that have made appearances in infomercials.  Now, I’m not naming names, but ‘I pity da fool’ that don’t watch Cele-B-rity Showcase!

As you can see, the programming possibilities are endless!

The best part of the Infomercial Channel is that ironically it’s commercial free!  We’ll just sell blocks of time to current infomercials to fill out the schedule.  So the channel will be a mix of new infomercials, classic infomercials and infomercial related content.

So what do you think?  Is this an amazing idea or what??

(This essay, originally written in April of 2009, is dedicated to Billy Mays and Ed McMahon, two wonderful pitchmen who were both done too soon.)

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Yesterday, I made an innocuous tweet describing some of the highlights of my weekend, namely seeing The Black Crowes perform at the Hampton Beach Casino Ballroom and watching “The 36^th Chamber of Shaolin.”*

(* Ed Note: The Black Crowes are the last of the great rock bands and “The 36^th Chamber of Shaolin” is a classic Kung Fu movie that established many of the tropes of the genre and was paid homage to by Tarantino in “Kill Bill.”)

Someone replied to my tweet with the following:

 musiclovesryan@mitchblum did you get to see the black crowes live? SO JEALOUS. im trying to wait patiently for their new dvd! http://bit.ly/BlackCrowesFYE

Now, I generally believe in responding to personalized tweets as that fosters the conversation.  But when I clicked on musiclovesryan’s feed I noted that all of his tweets were variations on the one he sent me – a seemingly personalized message followed by a sales pitch/link.  Clicking on the link, I was taken to FYE’s page for The Black Crowes’ new DVD.

Someone is clearly searching for tweets that mention The Black Crowes and is attempting to drive sales of their DVD by sending thinly-veiled sales messages.  Now, I’m pretty sure that it’s not actually The Black Crowes that are behind this tactic as they are traveling hippies that don’t actually have computers.  So this is most-likely a FYE-led campaign.

The interesting thing is, from a content perspective, I’m totally fine with someone seeing that I like the Crowes and letting me know that there’s a new DVD for me to buy.  If the tweet came from “FYE” and just said as much I would have been cool with it.

My problem is that FYE feels the need to lie to me by having someone tweet as if they were a real person.  It’s patently obvious after 30 seconds of skimming musiclovesryan’s feed that he’s a fake corporate persona.  As a result, I don’t trust FYE and I won’t buy from them.  I expect honesty and transparency from my partners and vendors.

FYE, may I humbly recommend that you cease with the phony “ryan” bit and just send me a tweet along the lines of: “We saw that you’re a Crowes fan. Did you know they have a new DVD coming out? Click this link to buy the DVD and we’ll give you free shipping.”

That tactic might have worked.  Just saying.

I do commend you, however, on your choice of the Billy Ray Cyrus picture as musiclovesryan’s icon.  Well played.

I hope I never make it inside the Admiral’s Club at the airport.

I know, that sounds crazy.  Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to hang out at the Admiral’s Club when they’re waiting for their plane?

The craziest part is that I’m all for luxe living.  I travel on a regular basis and I have no burning desire to be lumped in with the rest of the riff-raff (no offense).

But here’s the thing.  I don’t want to go inside the Admiral’s Club because I know that it’ll just break my heart.

In my mind, the Admiral’s Club is literally teeming with Admirals and other power brokers.  Behind those sliding glass doors is a veritable world of pleasure.  The liquor flows freely and is always top-shelf.  The massages are free; they don’t require an appointment and they come with or without aromatherapy treatments.  Scores of important decisions are made inside the club: everything from IMF policy to casting decisions for next season’s crop of TV pilots.

Inside the Admiral’s Club I’ll be so stuffed from the Wagyu beef skewers that I’ll barely have room for the lobster tails.  I’ll watch movies in the hi-def screening room before they’re even released in the theaters.  My ipod, Blackberry and laptop will be thoughtfully charged up for me and even the little wheels on my standard-edition black wheely bag will be oiled up for smooth gliding.  When I’m finally, reluctantly ready for my flight a secret pneumatic tube will effortlessly deliver me to the front of the line for boarding.

Now that’s what I call an Admiral’s Club.

In reality, I suspect that behind those sliding glass doors will be a depressing desk manned by an underpaid and overworked airline employee.  They’ll be a few over-stuffed but under-comfortabled chairs facing a 27” tube television permanently set to FOX News.  The only refreshments will be a basket of honey-roasted peanuts and a couple of warm cans of Mr. Pibb.  If I’m lucky, I’ll find yesterday’s edition of USA Today, but the junior jumble will already have been ruined.  The room will be so hot from the broken A/C that I’ll doze off and miss my flight.

See my dilemma?

It reminds me of when I was a boy and I was completely convinced that women’s rooms truly were lounges – spacious, filled with comfy loveseats and flattering lighting.  Of course, I was shattered when I learned that women’s rooms were exactly like men’s rooms, except there was an extra stall replacing the urinals.

Eventually, reality always wins.  So in the case of the Admiral’s Club I’m going to hold onto my imagination for just a little while longer.  Next time you’re at the airport look for me.  I’ll be the guy not in the Admiral’s Club with a dreamy, wistful look on his face.

The other day I returned home from a long day of making the marketing to find my front steps littered with about a dozen business cards.  This isn’t the first time that it’s happened and it certainly won’t be the last.  Many local businesses (painters, delivery restaurants, handymen, etc.) seem to rely exclusively on the one-two marketing punch of yellow pages and flyers.

It’s not a sophisticated technique, but going door to door in your local trading area and distributing flyers to generate awareness and stimulate trial of your company makes excellent sense.  The cost is low and there’s practically no downside.  Technology has made it increasingly easy and cheap to design and print business cards, flyers or menus.

But all companies, large and small, should always make sure that their message isn’t undermined by the delivery of the message.

The cleaning company that covered my steps with their business cards won’t ever get the chance to prove to me that they’re a good cleaner with competitive rates and conscientious customer service.  They might actually be all of those things.  But who would hire a cleaner that’s proven themselves to be adept at making – rather than cleaning up – messes?

I’ve never read the book “Fight Club,” nor have I seen the movie.  Nonetheless, I’m well aware of the fact that the first rule of fight club is that there is no fight club.

That’s my first problem.

Recently, a building in the picturesque New England town where I reside underwent a minor transformation.  What was previously an abandoned hair salon (according to the faded letters on the door) became an abandoned hair salon with some sort of plastic tarp covering up the large front windows.  Now, I’m generally not a big fan of the abandoned-hair-salon-with-tarps-taped-to-the-windows look but this one piqued my interest for some unknown reason.  Each day, as I drove past the former salon, I would steal a glance or two in a vain attempt to figure out exactly what was going on in there. 

First, I saw a refrigerator and a hot water heater.  Interesting.  Next, I spied some clothing and racks.  Intriguing.  Finally, I noticed some free weights and dumbbells.  My mind quickly jumped to three possible conclusions: illicit repair shop, underground boutique, or storage facility.  These were all reasonable explanations but they were all too safe for my liking.  I knew there was more to this story and I was determined to crack the case wide open.

A few weeks went by with no action.  But like most cases, I got a solid lead right when I was starting to give up hope.

Never give up hope, kids.  That’s the real lesson of this tale.

It was a warm spring day.  The kind of warm spring day that makes you wish that it was slightly earlier in spring.  Driving by the former salon I noticed right away that something was different.  The door was open!  I discreetly pulled over to get a better look.

Inside were a group of men.  I’d call them thuggy looking men, but that would be judgmental of me.  From what I could see, a few of these men were actually lifting the weights.  As suspected, this was no innocent storage facility.  To make matters worse, a couple of the hooligans looked like they were itching for a fight.  And that’s when it hit me.  Fight Club.  The abandoned salon was a real life fight club!

The evidence was overwhelming.  Tarps on the windows, weightlifting and ruffians: the three classic signs of a Fight Club.  But evidence wouldn’t be enough this time.  I’d need proof!

That’s my second problem.

You see, I really want to break this story.  Think about my credibility as a journalist if I could prove the existence of a Fight Club on the North Shore of Boston!  I’d be huge.  We’re talking international celebrity here.  But how can I prove it?

My problem is that I’m not really that good at fighting.  Sure, I earned my green belt in karate back in 1984, but these days I prefer the art of verbal sparring.  And I’m pretty sure that the only way to get into a Fight Club is to fight your way in.  Otherwise, they’d just deny that it’s a Fight Club, per the aforementioned rule.

So there you have it.  I’m almost positive that I’ve discovered a real live Fight Club but I need a little help in proving it.  If you’re interested in this assignment (and half the credit!) please feel free to contact me and I’ll slip you the address.

Fight Club!  Fight Club!