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Where the *BLEEP* are My Files?!?!

December 5, 2007 on 12:57 am | In 2007, Deadlines, Don Vaughan, Freelancing, General, Megan Cutter, Observations, Writing | No Comments

Sunday morning I wake early from sleep, dreaming of the interviews on Monday morning. Or was it today? No, I’m sure it was Monday. A wave of uncertainty washes over. I hit the power button to my computer and go to feed our black lab who is whining to eat. When I return, the computer screen is black. I push the power button again. Nothing. I push the power button five more times hoping that the same action will yield a different result. 7am. My husband wakes up to a blood-curling scream.“My computer crashed! It crashed! And I have an interview tomorrow morning!!!!” I didn’t write down specifics since they were all in an e-mail from my editor, who is also out of town for the next week. Where do I go? What time? Monday 9am. I think. Maybe. Where? A church in North Raleigh. Calling Best Buy, we find out they open at 10am. Calming down, I keep myself busy, make breakfast, take a shower, get dressed. 9:45 am we arrive at Best Buy, along with another 50 people holding tickets to be the first to buy the Wii. At this point, I don’t even know what Wii is, looking at the picture of a guitar on someone’s ticket. Already people in line are complaining. Once making it into the store, a man pushes ahead of us in line. Barton bellow, “Excuse me!” Feeling guilty, the man backs off and insists we go ahead. The manager of the Geek Squad reads all the regulations for a 4-day information transfer, but she’ll push it ahead this afternoon.

When we come home, I am already scheming backup plans. I call our great mentor Don, who suggests I call the paper through out the afternoon. Barton and I spend several hours looking at churches in north Raleigh- is it that one? No, that’s too far out; it’s this one over here.

2:45pm I call Best Buy- taking over thirty minutes of recorded voices and being on hold to be told they can’t find the manager. I just can’t stand it anymore. I rush back down to the store trying not to mow down the gobs of people buying Christmas gifts. Finally, the tech. staff hands me a disk of retrieved files. They have to ship the computer out- for now, it remains dead.

8pm Barton and I stare at the computer screen of his old computer. First, the set up, creating a new log-on account and e-mail account. The sensor on the computer scrolls up and down, uncontrollably. There was a reason that Barton dumped this computer. 10pm We push file folder buttons to find the lost information scattered in some obscure place.

10:30pm Barton finds it and we import Outlook e-mails. We have found it!!!!!

Monday 9am, early to the interview, downing coffee to stay awake. In the afternoon, I am wrangling with Barton’s computer, taking three times the normal speed for me to type one word, and apparently it likes to freeze every ten minutes. I save after every word I type.

Later, our mentor Don writes, “Remember, no matter what happens, it’s not the end of the world. Keep repeating that and you’ll be fine.”

I’ll be repeating it; trust me, I’ll be repeating it.

–Megan Cutter

Oversold!

December 3, 2007 on 12:09 am | In 2007, Advertising, General, Mark Cantrell, Marketing, Observations | No Comments

Maybe I just have the kind of face that makes people feel comfortable talking to me, but lately strangers have been telling me their personal problems. Just the other day a lady was telling me how dry her skin was, especially in the winter. Fortunately, she said, she’d found a great moisturizer that made her skin as smooth and supple as a baby’s tuckus.

Then a guy confided that he had erectile dysfunction, but that he had stumbled across a medication that helped him rise to the occasion. His wife now apparently had a smile on her face you couldn’t erase with a belt sander.

The fact that these people are all on television just makes it worse, because I can’t tell them to just shut up and keep their icky secrets to themselves. There was a time when TV advertising involved a guy in a suit holding up a bottle of oil made of compressed snakes or something and telling you how great it was, or perhaps a black-and-white animation of hammers clanging in someone’s skull, followed by a pitch for aspirin. If I’m dating myself, so be it – there seemed to be far fewer commercials in those days, and they pitched stuff I actually needed.

But now advertising pervades every aspect of our lives, whether we’re interested in the product or not. There’s a scene in the movie “Minority Report” where Tom Cruise’s character walks by a video display and is addressed by name and assailed with advertising targeted specifically at him.

We’re not quite there yet, but we’re close.

If you’ve ever bought anything on Amazon, for example, on return trips to the site you’ll see offers for books or DVDs similar to what you’ve bought before. Computer trojans infect your PC, watching your buying habits so they can report them to a central site which in turn sends you spam. We’re even targeted with product placement on TV these days.

I don’t know about you, but when I think of the word “target,” a gunsight springs to mind. Well, actually, the first thing that comes to mind is a certain department store – because of their pervasive advertising. I don’t think of being a target as a good thing, especially if you’re a deer. But then, at least they don’t have to watch commercials.

Sure, in the old days there were door-to-door salesmen, but you could always tell them where to put their Electrolux and various attachments. Marketing is now a strictly one-way medium, “served” to you on TV, in movie theaters, on your cell phone, land line, the Internet, billboards, magazines, newspapers, email and other conduits. It’s all given me a bad case of TMA – Too Much Advertising.

All those ads clamoring for attention remind me of the overly zealous salespeople on commission who just won’t leave you alone when you’re trying to shop at your local Buy More. Excuse me, but if I need help, I’ll ask for it. Instead, I get an ever-increasing horde of salespeople, all trying to guess what I want to buy or sell me something I don’t want. Enough already.

But I think I have a solution.

Many of us have signed up for the Do Not Call registry, which prohibits unsolicited phone marketing. How about a Do Not Sell rule, where I accept advertising only when I request it? If I see, for example, a really cool car I’d like to know more about, I email the auto company a request for more information, with the understanding that there will be no more communication unless it’s initiated by me.

I can see advertisers rushing to adopt this plan, since they’ll hear only from people who are seriously interested in their products. It’s a revolutionary idea that’ll change the face of advertising forever.

Also, the color of the sky in my world is chartreuse.

- MAC