No, It’s Not Marketing. It’s Just Advertising

Are you as numbed as I am by the ridiculous, sometimes impenetrable and too-often obnoxious ads that pepper local television stations and newspapers?

Do you laugh at the illogical use of celebrities to sell something they couldn’t possibly represent except as cynical celebrity-for-hire?

Example: I’ve had it with that snotty, smug animated gecko, the “image” of Geico Insurance. The play on words — gecko/Geico — is even worse than my previous non-favorite, selecting uncomfortable-looking actor Sam Waterston as the spokesman for TD Waterhouse, the investment company. Waterston/Waterhouse. Get it?

Now, a question of cold logic: Do you really think Cindy Crawford designed furniture for regional furniture marketer Rooms to Go? Come on…make that, do you think Cindy Crawford had anything to do with that furniture except to sit on it and collect a check?

If you read the financial press, you see full-page ads showing Tiger Woods holding a golf trophy. Whose ad is it? Accenture, the financial consulting firm. What does Tiger Woods have to do with that? Maybe he plays golf with the CEO. (I asked the CIA to decode the company’s advertising, “High performers step well outside well-worn organizational pathways.” As usual with CIA decoding these days, no luck.) Still, Tiger Woods as a spokesman for Accenture is no more offbeat than having Joe Namath as the raffish icon for Vestin Mortgage.

It’s epidemic. Suppose you call an investment counseling company named Genworth Financial and ask to speak with a knowledgeable investment counselor. They say, “Would you prefer Andre Agassi or Steffi Graf?” You might wonder what this pair, once noted for their prowess on the tennis court, have to do with investments. So do I, but they, in tennis garb, are the sole illustrations in a Wall Street Journal ad with the nonsense headline, “Their talent, skill and strength have been on display in 24 countries. Just like Genworth Financial.” Ugh.

A suggestion for troglodytes at TV stations: Depending on whether or not you’ve been totally numbed to the glut of television commercials, you may or may not agree with this suggestion: Put a couple of dark frames between commercials. That way, I won’t be thinking I’m still looking at an ad for Lexus after they’ve switched to an almost identical ad for Acura. And ad agencies, what’s the big deal about having the car dash into a wet public square and cracking the brakes so the car spins around in a circle? Where I live, teenagers do that all the time.

The 2007 cars are filtering onto the market, and support advertising is at least as dull and unconvincing as advertising for the 2006 models. Kind of makes you glad you’re in direct, where the edge of marketing over advertising is increasingly pronounced, doesn’t it? Maybe they’ll lean on us to help unload the unsold 2006 cars.

Since we’re dissecting advertising, one of the funniest is for a local “Quit smoking” organization. The ad says, “Only 1 treatment needed”…then offers a discount to “New clients.” Hey there, if only one treatment is involved, shouldn’t they have only new clients?

Slightly oblique to the point is the gradual shrinking of quantities in stuff we buy automatically at the supermarkets. Oh, no, I’m not blaming Kroger or Publix or Albertson’s or any other store. The insidious practice stems from the originators.

For example, here’s Breyers ice cream. That half-gallon container looks the same…but what’s this? It isn’t half a gallon any more. It’s .75 gallon, an impenetrable but significant reduction. The quantity has changed, but the price hasn’t. Adding to the confusion is another size, 56 ounces. Huh?

Ah, Maxwell House coffee, good to the last drop. But that last drop comes sooner, because this can holds a strange quantity, 39 ounces. Here’s another, 33 ounces. And bags of coffee for just about any brand no longer are 1 pound; they look identical but they hold just 13 ounces.

A box of Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes now holds just 20 ounces, unless you want Frosted Flakes Less Sugar, 17.5 ounces. Does that mean a regular box has two and a half ounces of sugar? A can of either Del Monte tomatoes or Contadina diced tomatoes holds 14.5 ounces. Weighing the content of each can has to be a mind-boggler. Joan of Arc beans come in a 15.5-ounce can. So we have to lower our sights if we want to tell a gassy diner, “You’re full of beans.”

It may be catty of me to report that Meow Mix cat food comes in a 33-ounce container. I don’t know what it used to be, because I’m not a cat food buyer. But 33 ounces, paralleling one of those Maxwell House weights, just strikes me as odd.

If you really want a mathematical nightmare, try decoding some of the packages of sweets. Here’s Lindt Lindor Truffles, 5.1 ounces…M&Ms, 21.3 ounces…and even the once-sacred Froot Loops, 19.7 ounces. For another three-tenths of an ounce Froot Loops could have been a hero.

Seems to me these food giants could take a page from the soft drink industry. Coke and Pepsi still use 12-ounce cans. And it’s a comfort to see flour and sugar still packaged in 5-pound bags. Ah, a 5-pound bag of sugar — how sweet. Let’s see: Five pounds equals 80 ounces. That can bring up to proper weight 32 boxes of Frosted Flakes Less Sugar. Come on, Kellogg, make a deal with those guys.

HERSCHELL GORDON LEWIS (www.herschellgordonlewis.com) is the principal of Lewis Enterprises in Fort Lauderdale, FL. He consults with and writes direct response copy for clients worldwide. “Burnt Offerings,” his 30th book, explores DR fundraising techniques and will be published next month. Among his other books are “Open Me Now,” the curmudgeonly titled “Asinine Advertising,” and “On the Art of Writing Copy” (third edition).