ftp.wwiv.com/ftp.wwiv.com.zip/ftp.wwiv.com/pub/BBS/RUBYV40.ZIP/RUBY40-7

Text File | 1994-12-15 | 13KB | 274 lines

                     RUBY TAKES A COKE BREAK

                              MEMO

TO:       President and CEO, Coca-Cola Company

FROM:     Del Freeman, average

DATE:     8/20/94

RE:       That frog


     The hard cold facts of life for me are that: 1) There is
seldom silence in any crevice of my life; and 2) that I do not
understand those Minute Maid commercials.
     Television is background conversation at my house, where it
plays 24 hours a day. Occasionally someone will notice and comment
on a current event, or mention a program one might want to watch,
and promptly forget. We do everything we do with great
concentration which, should it wander, will be captured by the
pretty moving pictures and constant chatter. I'm persuaded it is
rotting our minds but David, (my husband who gleans information
while I gather such fascinting tidbits as the fact that Lisa Marie
is going in for plastic surgery), considers it a necessity of life.
     So be it, which is how I got involved in this Minute Maid
thing. There is a tenor and pace to commercials which works harder
and succeeds more often at grabbing one's attention than does
programming, and thus it was with this Minute Maid minute.
     Silence was an attention-grabber. I wondered what would
possess any advertiser to pay $30,000 a second, (or whatever God-
awful, outrageous figure I can hardly imagine), for music and
color, with printed logos in an America where nobody can or does
read any longer. I paid closer attention.
     You know the commercial I mean. It flashes all the wild colors
of juice in a kaleidescope series of shots, which probably costs
much less to produce since it appears to be computer-generated. It
ends in those black circles with the white figures in them instead
of words. "Peach, peach, peach," says the script as the persimmon-
colored kaleidescope changes its patterns. "For the" says the
script, [shot of what looks to be a human cartoon head]; -- [shot
of something squiggly].
     Well, said I to mine own self, obviously that picture replaces
the word 'thinking.' I watched ever more carefully, fitting the
pictures to the words. "For the," flashed the script and I
completed it aloud. "Thinking... uh... something," I would say,
niggling about what that something was.
     Ultimately I had it narrowed down. Either it was a little-
known kama sutra position or a frog, I decided. It made no sense
to sell Minute Maid to a physical position, ergo, it was a frog.
     "Minute Maid Fruitopia for the thinking frog," I said aloud.
But frogs, too, are a limited audience at best, right? So what was
that? A Swastka? The Devil's Circle? A Rorschach blot?
     Surely not at $30,000 a second, or whatever outrageous, God-
awful figure I simply * can* not imagine, I said to mine own self.
[I said it to David, too, but he just said I smoke too much with
my coffee and that all that caffeine and nicotine in the early
morning makes me nuts.]
     Well, maybe I'm nuts, but I don't understand why anybody
thinks commercials should not be understood. Commercial implies
sale/purchase, does it not? Thus, would reason not decree that a
snippet of sound and color purporting to sell me something should
not show me pictures I do not comprehend. This will not sell me
juice.
     I've married my share of frogs, but I draw the line at
supplying them with fruit juice. Keep 'em thirsty, I say.
     Then I figure, well, maybe this commercial is trying to get
me to buy this juice for some other, ethereal reason like maybe if
I drink it I'll knooooooww what that squiggly thing is? Whoever
sold you this concept is a genius. He's the guy who made the
$30,000 a second or whatever God-awful outrageous amount I simply
can *not* imagine with this picture of a squiggle, no?
     I'd rather kiss the frog -- at least I've got experience in
that area.
     That America does not want to drink what the thinking frog
drinks, seems to me as plain as the nose on that thinking frog's
head.
     That *is* a head, isn't it?
                               ENDFollowing mailing the foregoing, I saw a Coca-Cola commercial
I did like and felt it was only fair to comment on that one, too:



                              MEMO

TO:       Roberto C. Goizueta, CEO and Chairman of the Board
          The Coca-Cola Company

FROM:     Del Freeman, consumer, average

DATE:     8/30/94

RE:       That elephant
          Copyright (c) 1994

     Unlike that frog, I think this elephant works. You know the
one -- it swims out to a raft, leaves four peanuts in payment, and
takes a diet coke from the ice bucket and swims away.
     The elephant is a potential Taster's Choice flirtation...
better than a computer-generated polar bear. People like elephants.
They go to the circus to see elephants. They avoid frogs, which are
highly rumored to cause warts and simply do not have the same
people-appeal.
     Do you have plans to expand the elephant scenario? Hubby and
I were watching it last night, and came up with things we'd like
to see. After that frog commercial, I figure you can use all the
help you can get, so how about this:
     1.   The elephant swims back to an elephant party, where the
other elephants are milling about poolside, frugging to sixties
rock music, sipping regular coke and watching other party-goers
float about on rafts with sunblock on their noses. Our hero
elephant goes immediately to his lady love and beckons her to lay
down the parasol she holds in her trunk and follow him. They retire
trunk in trunk to a secluded spot as "Be My Love" plays softly in
the background, where he has laid a picnic blanket with field
flowers and the diet coke with a straw.
     2.   Our lady love has consumed the diet coke and looks
longingly at our hero elephant for more. Our hero elephant strikes
out to find what his lady love desires, leaving peanuts for diet
cokes across the panorama of real and imaginary people, from
Clinton to Limbaugh. (The costly people can be suggested by
inference or played by look-alikes.) Our hero can, for instance,
leave peanuts at a Cher video rehearsal and take her diet coke.
     3.   People complain to other people, (regular folks and star
material), about the strange peanut-for-diet-coke scenarios taking
place across the country. A newscaster tells his audience about the
phenomenon and a Walter-Brennan/Cary Grant/whatever voice suggested
by rocking chairs seen from the rear that, "Nothing like that ever
happens in [whatever city and state]," as he reaches for what used
to be his diet coke, only to find four peanuts.*
     [*These scenarios can be played out ad infinitum, until the
public tires.]
     4.   Headlines are full of the diet coke stealing elephant who
leaves substitutes peanuts in payment. He is compared to a modern-
day Robin Hood. A semi-full of diet coke disappears from a
warehouse, a large pile of peanuts the only clue. The next elephant
party is rife with iced washtubs full of diet coke as all of the
elephants discover its superior appeal. Newscasters report an
increased instance of diet coke disappearances across the country,
all replaced by peanuts.
     5.   Our hero attempts a raid on the diet coke plant, and is
apprehended by FBI agents. The diet coke thefts end, and our hero
sits despondently in a jail cell, where he is visited by his
beloved who brings him -- what else? -- a diet coke.
     6.   He cannot, of course, be tried for merely demonstrating
good taste, and our hero elephant ends up working as taste tester
in the local diet coke plant. The whistle blows and our hero picks
up his briefcase and ambles homeward, where he is greeted by his
beloved and their twin offspring. He opens his briefcase and
introduces a second generation to diet coke.
     I cannot believe you're paying these advertising people
$30,000 a second, or whatever God-awful amount of money you're
paying them, and they can't even figure out that an elephant has
more people-appeal than a frog. Ribbit!

                                   Sincerely,



                                   Del Freeman
                                   9832-1 Sandler Road
                                   Jacksonville, FL 32222
                                   1-904-573-6269
/df

Came the response to my first memo:


September 12, 1994

Dear Ms. Freeman:

Your letter concerning the Fruitopia commercials was forwarded to
me for response.  I hope what follows sheds some light on both the
commercials and the targeted consumers for Fruitopia.

For starters, the commercial I believe you referred to is called
"Nice," and does use a kaleidoscope among its other visual eye-
catchers.  (This is common to all Fruitopia advertising.)  As for
the "frog," well, there really isn't any!  Take a look at the top
of this letter, and you will see the Fruitopia trio of "Mind, Body,
Spirit," which *is* a ying and yang thing that sets this brand of
fruit beverage apart from the rest.

But does it sell product?  You bet it does, and to the targeted
market of consumers in the 18 to 39-year-old age bracket, younger
people who are hip, vibrant and upbeat.  The Fruitopia flavors, I
might add, continue this whole new product architecture, and
include Lemonade Love & Hope, Pink Lemonade Euphoria, Raspberry
Psychic Lemonade, Cranberry Lemonade Vision, Fruit Integration,
Citrus Consciousness, Strawberry Passion Awareness, and, lastly,
The Grape Beyond.

So, Ms. Freeman, I think the next step in understanding the
Fruitopian way of life is to sample this great new product yourself
-- so please use the enclosed coupons with our compliments.

And thanks for your very interesting letter.

Sincerely,

Richard K. Huchzermeyer
Manager - Consumer Information CenterAnd then I wrote...:

September 17, 1994



Mr. Richard K. Huchzermeyer
Manager - Consumer Information Center
Coca-Cola Foods
P. O. Box 2079
Houston, Texas 77252-2079

Dear Mr. Huchzermeyer:

     Thank you for your step-by-step, edifying letter of September
12, 1994. I think it was that ying thing I was having trouble with.
I couldn't find it in my dictionary. Is there a Yan, as well?

     Product "architecture"? This is another one of those things
that, if you say it long enough, it becomes language, right? I
admit I would be most interested in actual sales figures indicating
this particular commercial has increased sales. I don't recall that
Fruitopia has been on the shelves long enough to establish sales
figures prior to this mystic marketing. And I'll be most interested
to see see sales figures over the next six- to twelv%-month period.
Catchy tune, but can they hum it?

     I do see your point, however. A young, hip, vibrant and upbeat
18 to 39-year-old would probably pipe this stuff in next to the
water line. An old, unhip, insipid and depressed person such as
myself, (and I trust you will acknowledge that there are more than
a busload of us out here), won't go for the frog juice.

     And please, tell me more about the Consumer Information
Center. Is that like P.R.? If so, I would venture to suggest it is
not, perhaps, the most appropriate platform from which to remark
on the aged, non-kewl, lethargic, and morose. We know who we are,
but we don't particularly like to have people point at us,
individually or collectively. Besides, it's a tough world, and most
of us have not achieved the wealth or prominence we expected.
Pointing out how late in the game it is will endear us to neither
you nor the frog. We've got good reason to be morose. Maybe you
want to sell us something for our depression, and leave
personalities out of it.

     By the way, the series of letters between us is being posted
to our home Bulletin Board System, Ruby's Joint BBS, for the
information of consumers. I may disseminate it even further by
featuring it in a future issue of my elecmag, Ruby's Pearls, as
Ruby's Coke Break. This, of course, will serve to expand your
potential market and clarify for them, once and for all, when a
frog is a frog.

     I trust you understand that I'm just trying to help you, here.
Go with the elephant, I'm telling you.

                         Sincerely,


                         Ms. Del Freeman
                         Still Consumer - Average



P.S. Thank you in advance, but I would not care for any more
Fruitopia discount coupons. Will raspberry psychic lemonade help
me understand the frog explanation?

Now, you readers know Ruby's a fair woman and would report Mr.
Huckzermyer's response, except he didn't send one.

Odd, no?