Thursday, July 30, 2009

Something About Corporate Symbols

All of New Bedford (the ones who aren't hiding in their parlors calling talk radio to beg for the Guardian Angels to come make them feel less tiny and afraid) is agog with a visit from the Budweiser Clydesdales.
I'm guessing that somebody's cracked open a special cask of Madeiran before this weekend's Portuguese Feast.
Clydesdales are huge damned beasts. But there's bigger and/or cooler ones with which I've swum. Or simply enjoyed the company -- or proximity -- of. I was thinking about this a few years ago when I befriended the marketing guy from Buzzards Bay Brewery. All right, "befriended" is a strong word. I simply made a habit of bringing friends to the brewery every weekend for tastings.
Typical of me, I thought, "Hey, why don't I use my particular creative inclination, my inventive aptitude, my personal proficiency, and give these local guys a PR nightmare to live down?"
I scratched down a series of storyboard-like ideas. Here's one:
Don't use this, even if your uncle has told you to come up with 'something' before sending you back to Brown, trustafarian.

4 comments:

Carol said...

Did you live in Merrimack, N.H.? So did I---1972-77, I think. Every morning, the entire town smelled like old fermented bowls of cereal.

ThirdMate said...

Nashua didn't smell like that, but my neighbor did.

Carol said...

The Budweiser Brewery was in Merrimack, on the river perhaps. Nashua was the site of my first jobs (Nashua Mall, etc.). Do you remember The Broadcaster? I wrote little articles and pasted copy for that little "newspaper." My parents followed their high-tech jobs to Hudson by then.

ThirdMate said...

My first work of fiction -- a six-page crayon and construction paper number -- was in the Nashua public library. After all, they published it. Or their Kids' Room did. We left Nashua soon after that, my wise parents thinking that I shouldn't be exposed to the dangerous kind of fame that could ruin a seven year-old. Whew.