CultureSpeak: “Go Christmas”

Cultural Context: A line from this recent Gap television ad produced in (supposed) response to an American Family Association boycott prompted by Gap, Inc’s “censorship” of “Christmas” in holiday promotions for Gap, Banana Republic and Old Navy. According to the AFA website, the complete lyrics of the commercial are:

“Two, Four, Six, Eight, now’s the time to liberate
Go Christmas, Go Hanukkah, Go Kwanza, Go Solstice.
Go classic tree, go plastic tree, go plant a tree, go add a tree,
You 86 the rules, you do what feels just right.
Happy do whatever you wanukkah, and to all a cheery night.

Go Christmas, Go Hanukkah, go whatever holiday you wanukkah.”

Hmmm.  I have a few questions, starting with this:
Is that better, AFA?

In their updated online “action” memo response from 11/16, the American Family Association first takes a small victory lap by saying, “as a result of your actions, Gap has produced a television commercial that uses the word ‘Christmas.” Great job! AFA and its supporters have succeeded in encouraging a major retailer to lump Christmas in with whatever other December holiday you “wanukkah.” But, hey, they used the word “Christmas.”

Of course, the AFA website goes on to denounce the ad as “dismissive and disrespectful,” and for many Christians it probably is–which begs my next question. What do you expect?

In a LATimes editorial, Dan Neil asks his own question:

“Why, for example, is the phrase “Happy holidays” so insufferable to Christian fundamentalists, but not the vulgar, surfeiting exploitation of Christ’s name to sell smokeless ashtrays, dessert toppings, Droid phones and trampolines?”

I’m wondering that myself. Retailers do want my holiday money, and they’re going to advertise to get it–just like they do every other month of the year. Why do Christians want Christ’s name out there hawking all kinds of merchandise?From all appearances, Gap, Inc is a secular company. I think I’d be safe to assume that since it made the “Against Christmas” column in AFA’s “Naughty or Nice” holiday retailer list this year. Can we honestly expect a secular company to produce a true interpretation of the monumental value of Jesus’ birth? I’m thinking NO. So is the AFA asking for lip service? It looks that way. And, that’s exactly what it got.

I whole-heartedly agree that Jesus Christ is the center of true Christmas, a celebration of His birth–the earthly beginning of His road to the cross to purchase my salvation through His death. I also happen to believe that the December 25th holiday we call Christmas is a man-made ritual with a colorful history that exists for any number of cultural and spiritual reasons. It isn’t found in the Bible. As a Christian, I do want to ensure that I’m putting value in the right places during the season and focusing on the incredible gift God gave us in His Son becoming flesh. However…

I find this whole Gap/”Happy Holidays” battle to be a ridiculous sidestep of the real issues. It’s cosmetics. And, in the name of bringing out the truth of Christmas, this boycott campaign is completely false at its foundation. How can we possibly expect a culture so prevalently at odds with Christ to produce something that honors Him, to be the bearer of the Christmas message? Why do we even want to try?

To borrow some Biblical metaphors… Salt whets a thirsty world’s need for living water. Why insist on sprinkling it with a bunch of tasteless, low sodium substitutes? Whole and redeemed vessels can pour that water into thirsty souls all around us. Why demand that hopelessly cracked vessels carry it?

Dear AFA,
Broken cisterns can’t hold water. Maybe your battle is the wrong one.

[For the record, I probably won't be purchasing anything from Gap during the holiday season this year--mainly because I'm 5'1" and their sleeves are always way too long. Baby Gap could be another story.]

A Wild Hare

For the last two days I’ve been experimenting with adding advertising to my blog. Yeah, I know. I’m not sure two days can be called actual experimentation. It’s more like a wild hare, a knot in my stomach, cold feet and a lightbulb moment. (Please excuse the quadruple mixed metaphor.)

Some of you may know that the annual Blogher conference came and went not too long ago. It’s an event that’s become pretty significant in the blogosphere, focusing on women bloggers in all their many genres. Some of the bloggers I regularly read were, of course, in attendance, and some were even party hosts, lecture givers and round table participants. I didn’t attend the conference. I suppose the possibility never really occurred to me. I have 3 gifts at home that I simply can’t bear to leave for even one night, and I guess, in actuality, I don’t really consider that writing EyeJunkie warrants all that hooplah. Then, there’s my other jobs I have to consider.

Since the conference ended, I’ve seen several recap and response posts around my cyber reading list as well as a few hundred (or so) tweet references about it. The women’s b-sphere is all abuzz with “what I learned,” “what swag I got (or didn’t),” “what I liked (or didn’t),” “who I met (or wished I had)” and the like. I’ve been absorbing and thinking and wondering “can I write a Blogher post without attending?”

Tonight along about cold feet in the process, I realized I could. You see, I had a wild hare–a rabbit I just had to chase down. I’ve been seeing words in those Blogher posts like “monetize,” “analytics,” “tribe” and “personal brand” tossed around quite frequently. They’re the buzz words of blogging these days, and they can be quite enamoring. The idea of tribes of followers hanging on your every written word could be appealing. The lure of advertising dollars related to my blog sounds good. The goal of creating a readily recognized personal online persona certainly buffs the feathers a bit. In my own “analytics” I’ve seen a steady increase in my meager readers and page views, so on a wild hare I said to myself “What the hay, why not?” And, I up and added some advertising to my blog — ignoring the other voice that said, “Haven’t you always said ‘I’m not going to put advertising on my personal blog. I’ll save that for freelance work.’?”

I’ve had my eye on a unique advertising conduit called Project Wonderful — which I would probably recommend had my advertising “experiment” lasted more than two days, and incidentally during the two days it worked exactly as they claimed it would, but that’s beside the point. The point is: I jumped off into the world of blog advertising with (count ‘em) one Project Wonderful ad. Then, in a moment of what I can only claim as sheer insanity, I took a flying leap into the incomprehensible world of Google AdSense with (count ‘em) one ad block.

That’s the point when the knot in my stomach appeared. That “other voice” I mentioned started nagging away. I spent the day playing with kids at home on a holiday, doing laundry, chasing down various toy cars and trucks — and incessantly checking Project Wonderful and Google AdSense to discover the $0.0005 and $0.00 respectively I earned today from my blog advertising. What? Plus, I found my obsessive design-minded eyes continually drawn to the spot just below the “recent posts” where I had placed the ugly ads with the knot growing bigger.

Here’s where the cold feet set in. Is this the blogging life for me? Do I really want to spend my spare time (giggle) deciphering cost per impression ratios and pouring over uniques and referring sites? It’s interesting, maybe, but is that how I want to invest my creativity? Do I really want to be confronted daily with the realization that I would probably have to blog for decades before I reached the minimum payout required for withdrawing advertising revenue?

Right about there was where the lightbulb moment stepped in. I am not a “big name blogger.” I’m me, and I’m ok with that. I started EyeJunkie as a creative outlet, an inspiration and encouragement to write, an opportunity to share my thoughts and maybe make a few connections. I don’t want to key word and topic channel the creativity right out of it. I’m thankful for the beloved few loyal readers, subscribers, Network Blog followers and random Twitter clickers and Google searchers that make their way through these parts. Would I like more? Sure. Do I want to hinge it on 6/1000 of a cent and a chance for “removing unwanted wrinkles”? Not so much. There you have it.

So, yeah, I chased a wild hare today.  But, in Miss Belle the Beagle fashion, I was only too happy to chase that sucker right back to the little hole where it came from and howl like it’s nobody’s business.

Oh Happy Day! Studies Show:

Happy Friday, everyone! Naturally, when I think of Friday, the phrase “Oh Happy Day” comes to mind–what with the end of the work week and the anticipation of weekend fun. This post is starting to be a habit.

Check out one more example of happiness from my vintage collection up there. This 2-pager is a 1959 Parker Pen ad illustrated by Norman Rockwell. I love how many of the old ads tell a story. I suppose folks were much more likely to read than we are today. I keep telling my clients to cut out words. Then, I see these delightful versions and long for generations further up the alphabet than “X.” Yes, this is a Christmas ad, but I couldn’t resist the protrait of happiness sharing in light of something I read this week.

Happy Friday, again. And, now there’s actual scientific evidence that I’m spreading happiness when I say that. This week I read about a study on happiness released in December 2008 by the Harvard Medical School and the University of California, San Diego. It confirmed what we all experience. Happiness spreads. The press release about the study called happiness an “emotional contagion.” Cool scoops.

In examining a boat-load of details about the lives of close to 5000 people over a 20 year period, the study determined that feelings of happiness spread over a person’s social network up to 3 degrees of separation, and the happiness increase could be felt for up to a year’s time. That means my happiness can infect my friends, my friends’ friends and my friends’ friends’ friends. Triple cool scoop with whipped cream and a cherry! For the math junkies, those 3 degress are half of the 6 degrees of separation we are said to have with EVERY human being! [The study also showed that sadness doesn't have nearly the same viral power, BTW.] Want to influence half the people on the planet? Start letting your happiness be known. If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands, stomp your feet, and of course, your face will surely show it. You get the idea.

Attention 3 degrees, here are five things that have increased my happiness germ load this week.

1. Lack of sickie germ load in the Montgomery household
2. Hearing that Little Drummer Boy behaved so well at preschool that he got to pick something from the Treasure Box–and it was Dinoco spokescar “Mr. The King,” racecar extraordinaire. Koo-chow!
3. Brilliant red bromeliad on my dining table
4. Reading about color theory for some articles I’m writing
5. Glorious design/style blogs I’m becoming addicted to [stay tuned for next week's Ten Tues Tickles]

What say we get this pandemic rolling? If you’re happy and you know it, click the comment button and let the Junksters know 5 reasons why. C’mon now, consider yourself infected.

MIPOTW: Spam?

The Most Interesting Phrase of the Week 031409 was reprinted in this blog post from some top-secret [kidding] Google documents that were “leaked” and have been floating around the internets.  It’s a handy little Google definition of SPAM.

When trying to decide if a page is Spam, it is helpful to ask yourself this question: if I remove the scraped (copied) content, the ads, and the links to other pages, is there anything of value left? if the answer is no, the page is probably Spam.

Hmmm…
Is there anything of value left?  Tough call.  Rifling through a mental list of posts, I’m thinking one man’s mystery meat is another man’s…

[BTW, that Spam Upside Down Pie recipe is for free]

Open Letter to Sports Advertisers

To Whom It May Concern:

I got 4 hours of sleep last night.

Why, you ask?  The Super Bowl. No, I was not in some Steeler-induced euphoria.  Why, then?  Super Bowl commercials. Yes, I know how really fun it is to wait for the commercials; laugh, cry, and puzzle at their meaning; rate the best, worst and most colossally lame.  But, I sort of have this unwritten inner rule about my entertainment.  It only qualifies as amusement in so far as it a) does not make my children cry, and b) does not interupt my intentional slumber–both of which happened last night as a result of Super Bowl commercials.  And at 4am, I was NOT AMUSED.

At 5:30pm yesterday, we switched on the big game–no small task, mind you.  There was some convincing required since turning on the game also meant turning off Bob the Builder.  To Little Drummer Boy: “I know, sweet, but we only have one TV and we have to share.”  To Squiggle:  “Daddy wants to watch a special football game.”  “Foot.  Baw.”  Suddenly, we were all convinced.  “Foot. Baw.” fans are in training at our house. [hmmm. point to ponder.]

Coming a little late to the party, we were orienting ourselves to the game and getting excited about what food might appropriately accompany our “foot. baw.”  Midway through the first quarter, what do we see?  I actually don’t know what we saw because I was distracted.  What I saw was Little Drummer Boy: close look, giving way to concerned look, giving way to startled look, giving way to tears peeking out at the corners, announcing “Mommy, that scared me.”  Yeah, I don’t know exactly what we saw, just that it involved a big, scary dinosaur with big, scary teeth coming right at us through the screen.  NOT COOL.

Explanations required:  Dinosaurs aren’t around anymore–not just at our house, but anywhere.  It’s over now.  We can see “foot. baw.” now.  Then, we were ok to get back to the game.  All was well.  Only, shortly after, what did we see?  I don’t know what we saw because I was in the kitchen making the Super Bowl meal of choice (pancakes and bacon). What I saw was Little Drummer Boy rounding the corner with more tears, in need of a hug, sporting a more urgent “Mommy, that scared me.”  Oh, and Hub turning OFF the Super Bowl as a result of what I can only guess was some gun-toting, teeth-baring, sword-wielding, fire-breathing, machine-morphing, head-banging conglomeration of a supposed consumer enticement.  Choose any or all that may apply.  Sadly, I was thinking “Thank God” that’s all it was.  I mean, literally, thank God there was no female clothing involved.

Was that the end of it?  NOT EVEN CLOSE.  Our Super Bowl experience was not complete until it involved soothing the tears of bad dreams and their subsequent reluctance to go to sleep (count them) SIX TIMES last night–2 for Daddy and 4 for me.

So, we didn’t get to watch any more Super Bowl commercials or any more “foot. baw.” for that matter.  Guess what?  DON’T CARE.  Because I was TICKED OFF.  TICKED. OFF.  Ok, now that I think about it, I care a little that I didn’t get to watch SPRINGSTEEN either, making me even more ticked off.  See paragraph 2.  To reiterate: supposed entertainment was sooo NOT entertaining when it involved Little Drummer Boy’s tears.  Not to mention the fact that I AM SLEEPY.

In the wake of MY sleep-deprived morning, I’m sure you’re all getting together to high-five the success of your ad spots and write the checks.  ATTENTION all you marketing execs and creatives.  Take this down:

1.  Yes, we only have one TV, and I like it that way.  So, don’t even think about turning this around on me.

2.  No, I don’t think my THREE YEAR OLD needs to get out more.

3.  A bzank-bzillion dollars is an obscene and offensive amount of money to spend on an advertising spot.  Go get yourself some corporate responsibility — economic crisis, children in poverty and all that.

4.  Yeah, I get that the Super Bowl doesn’t claim to be “family friendly” entertainment, but I have two “foot. baw” fans that will meet your demographic in about 15 years when (at the rate you’re going) you may really need some customers.  Only, now they’re scared of the commercials.

5.  I’d like, just once, to enjoy non-DVD programming that does not involve monsters, sexed up clothing, psycho-murderers, a steroid scandal or an explanation of ED.  Just once.

6.  I know I waited until a half hour before the game to ask “now, who’s playing?” but me and my little contribution to the middle class Gen X demographic still have a tiny bit of discretionary income that we WON’T be spending on people and things that give our kids bad dreams.

Rant over.  Although, frankly, I’m not really over it, because do I feel better?  NO.  I feel SLEEPY.