A delighful compliment

So Thursday night I received an email from Facebook to let me know that a friend had Tagged me in a Post.

When I went to see what it was, I saw "Tiff Svitko this reminded me of you when I saw this." Followed by this link:



Needless to say, not only did I laugh to the verge of incontinence, but I was pretty stoked that when people think of me, they think, "Tiff is like that weird dancing girl in that soda commercial. She would do something like that. Start dancing all over the place like an idiot."

Because it's actually pretty true.

And I'm ABSOLUTELY okay with that. As a matter of fact, I left the comment: "From now on when someone asks me, "So, Tiff, how do people describe you?" I'm just going to show them this video."

Which is why I'm keeping it available on my phone at all times.

Of course, if I'm ever without my phone, I'll just start dancing like an idiot. 

And that, my friends, is what I like to call a "win-win" situation.  And a delightful compliment.

GrOOPSon: Groupon's shaky introduction to the rest of the world.

So it seems daily deal giant, Groupon, made a bit of an oopsie with their now infamous television ad debut during the Super Bowl on Sunday.  There have been many articles, tweets, comments, and posts discussing the issue but I wanted to lend my unique perspective to the discussion.

You see, I live a hop, skip, and a jump from Chicago (where I also happen to spend half my time), and not only do I know some folks who work for Groupon, but I also tried not once, but twice to land a gig there.   Of course, that didn't happen, but I learned a few things about their culture and philosophy in the process, so I thought I'd share.

A little over a year ago I was contacted by Groupon about a resume I had sent in a few months prior.  They were looking for writers and thought I might be a good fit.  I had recently lost my job and thought this would be a great opportunity, so I immediately got in touch and began the audition process.

I was given the task of writing a mock deal of a real restaurant in another state.  They laid out the rules, gave examples, and allowed me access to their style guide.  So I got down to work.

I had not (and still haven't, actually) ever used a Groupon before, but I understood the concept: if a certain number of people purchase the Deal, the Deal is on and people save half off or so of some good or service.

But instead of wanting to be a run-of-the-mill, straight to the point, tell it like it is, standard marketing voice company,  Groupon likes to add their own unique, sometimes comedic, sometimes snarky voice to everything they do.  From their website to their deal descriptions and everything in between.

In other words, they want to distinguish themselves.  They want to be fun.  They want their subscribers to feel a personality and not just a plain, cold, coupon.  They want  to maybe elicit a laugh or a smile, or at the very least, some reaction that leaves people with the understanding that Groupon is a brand, not just a nameless, personality-free, money saver.

And having gone through the audition process, they're very adamant about that voice and their writing style.  Some humor, some absurdity, metaphors, similes, and also amusing alliterations applied appropriately as needed---all of which must adhere to specific criteria set forth by the Groupon copywriting team and their marketing and style goals.

And it is most definitely specific.  Without getting into too much detail, the short of it is: they've worked to create a voice they feel works for them, and if you want to work for them, then you need to be successful at writing in that voice. 

And I tried.  I really did, but unfortunately, I was unable to please the editor with my attempts and was ultimately told:

"Hi Tiffany

Thanks again for turning this around. 

While the selling points are well developed, I'm afraid the humor injections are just not quite what we're looking for. We have a very particular sense of humor, and I wanted to give you a shot at it because I appreciate your writing skills, but it's not quite the level of absurdity that we need."

To which I responded:

"Thanks. Sorry I couldn't quite get it.  :) But again, a great lesson.

...

(Either that, or I've just come to realize that perhaps I shouldn't have gotten that degree in writing after all...)"

To which they responded:

"Hey Tiff

We've turned down lots of great writers...when I say we're very particular I mean it less like we have high standards and more like we'll only eat one kind of sandwich and it has peanut butter and onions on it—not necessarily a good thing."

Now, I'm not bitter, or upset, or angry that my writing didn't mesh with their style.  As a business and a brand, they are absolutely allowed to choose writers with a style they feel will work for them.  And as a writer, I totally get that.  Was I bummed at first?  Sure.  Who wouldn't be?  But I understood and I moved on---and I only licked my wounds for about a week...tops.

To be honest, I didn't really enjoy trying to write in their voice.  For me, it felt a little forced and unnatural.  Especially considering the amount of deals that need to be written on a daily basis.  And I imagine that after a few months, if I would have landed that gig, I would have gotten frustrated.  Not necessarily because the voice is annoying or ineffective, but because it's just not my personal style.

Side note:   

I have always thought the more effective route would be to hire writers with differing humor styles to vary up the deals a little bit, expand the voice and add more flavors to the pot, if you will.  

And once when talking to a friend about this very story, when I said, "Yeah, I just wasn't funny enough for their style."  She replied, "Wait?  They're supposed to be funny?  I mean, I never really read the deals.  I just scan and try to get to the details.  I just want to know what the heck I'm getting."

So what's my point in telling you this?  To gain some pity for my loss?  To kick a horse when it's already down by saying their style isn't that important to their subscribers?  To make them come across as some sort of self-righteous, funnier-than-thou, jerks?

No.  Well, not entirely.  You see...

...I think what really happened with that Super Bowl ad had less to do with being offensive and tasteless, and more to do with the fact that they were reaching out to a large segment of the population that wasn't quite as familiar with their distinct voice, style, and sense of humor.

Let me give you an example.

It would be like if the new guy at work showed up his first day, and instead of walking in and politely introducing himself, just letting people get to know and eventually like him, he ran screaming into the middle of the office, blurted out a dick joke, and then jump-kicked the air to emphasize an explosive fart. *Fist pump!*  

Because to his friends, that's what he's known for doing, and they totally love that about him.

But it just doesn't work that way.

If you already knew Groupon's philanthropic history and their sense of humor, seeing the Tibet commercial (although, really guys...Tibet?  That was pushing it just a bit, don't you think?) probably didn't offend *quite* as much as it did to those who were meeting Groupon for the first time.  And when you air a commercial during the Super Bowl, guess what?  You're about to introduce yourself a pretty large group of strangers.

And you also have to think, that new guy at the office?   He probably has a few friends who adore him, but don't really get his sense of humor all the time (especially that farting thing...I mean what is that?!)  But in general he's a good guy, so they let it slide.  Until it crosses a line for them.

Ultimately, I think this is what happened with Groupon.  They were that new guy at the office.  They weren't trying to be jerks.  They meant well.  It's just, they failed to give any information in their execution.  

Strangers thought they were just plain cold-hearted.

Friends who don't always get their humor felt they crossed a line.

And the folks who know and love them understood exactly what they were going for in their ad.

Unfortunately for Groupon, it seems the vast majority were in the first two categories.
Groupon and their die-hards were the only ones really in on the joke.

And without some sort of slow-build to the Tibet ad, or some writing that made their support for the cause known, they ended up screaming and flailing into the offices of millions of people and making a scene without much context or credibility to their character...yet. 

To make matters worse, instead of biting the bullet and just apologizing for the faux pas, CEO Andrew Mason decided it best to argue why Groupon chose their approach in a recent blog post about the incident.

He writes:

"Our ads highlight the often trivial nature of stuff on Groupon when juxtaposed against bigger world issues, making fun of Groupon. Why make fun of ourselves? Because it’s different – ads are traditionally about shameless self promotion, and we’ve always strived to have a more honest and respectful conversation with our customers. We would never have run these ads if we thought they trivialized the causes – even if we didn’t take them as seriously as we do, what type of company would go out of their way to be so antagonistic?"

But if you don't know Groupon, how are you supposed to know that's what they were going for? (Answer: You most likely wouldn't.)

He also talks about how other Super Bowl ads dealt with such atrocities as antisocial behaviors and  objectification of women.  And it's true.  Those Go Daddy ads were absolutely God-awful and in poor taste ("Look!  Big ta-tas.  I most definitely need a website!" Hrumph.)  But his argument plays out a little like a kid caught taking a Sharpie to the living room wall, calling out his little brother for giving a haircut to the family cat in order to divert the attention...and the consequences.

As a mother, I can attest, this doesn't work either.  Just apologize, admit there might have been a poor judgment call made---or at the very least some poor execution.  Then by all means, explain your case. And don't worry, I'll attend to your little brother in a minute.  (Also, you're both grounded, and now the cat is covered in ink from constantly running into the wall.  Great.)

So what is there left to say?  Should we all boycott Groupon?  Lay on the hate?  Charge the castle with pitchforks and torches, and break down the door with a log?

I don't necessarily think so.  They are trying to do good by contributing to the very causes they used in their ads.  But that's really a personal choice, I suppose.  In any case, if you are so driven, you should help out the causes Groupon highlighted in their spots.  Be positive and proactive about the whole thing.

I think the lesson for Groupon here is this: creating a voice and a personality for your brand is a great thing.  But before you unleash it at full force, you'd better make sure that's the real reason people like you so much.  And you'd probably better make sure it's what you're known for.  Because if it really is only about the $30 worth of fish curry for $15, you might want to rethink your approach. 

You also might want to change your introduction to something a little more like, "Hey.  We're Groupon.  Some folks think we're pretty fun with a great sense of humor.  We save you money on some pretty awesome stuff.  We also help out some really noble causes.  It's nice to meet you."

Once that's established, maybe then it'd be okay to unleash the jump-kick farts...in moderation, of course.

 

The Blizzard of 2011

So, I live just outside of Chicago and was in the direct path of the now infamous Blizzard of 2011 (AKA: Snowpocalypse, Snowmageddon, SnOwMG...). Here's my artist's rendition of what that looked like:

"It's a street, with people, and an angry polar bear trying to get home from work at 3:30pm.  Duh."

In addition, I've created some videos of my experience here in NW Indiana.

This is at about 4:00am, just after a slight pause in the snow---it had JUST started snowing again:




This is my first peek when I got up and the snow had finally ceased for good:

 



How I'm going to dig myself out of this mess, I have no idea.

sdfgsgfdsg

Blogger or my exhausted hands just saved me from posting a blog that clearly shed light on how completely exhausted I am.  I haven't slept in 34 hours.

(This has never happened, but I totally had some wok to do, and I have to hold out until at least 8pm.)

Let's just hope that last doozy saved in autosave.  Because it was incoherent and assumedly magical.

I can't remember it anymore.

Update: I forgot to draw you a pretty.  I really just played with the air brush shapes and the fill bucket mostly.

I call it "Life's a Beach: Don't draw when you're sleepy part 58.B" 

Update 3: I accidentally deleted Update 2. Wok is work. Not wok. Is basically what I said.

Are you as happy as your dog...errr...cat?

If you've ever ventured on over to Hoosierland, and into my humble abode, then you've had the pleasure of meeting Clio, my overly affectionate, needy, and unconditionally loving cat.

It looks a little something like this:

"Hi new person!  Pet me!  I lurrrrrrrrrrrve you!  I lurrrrrrrve all peoples!"

In other words, she has absolutely no problem getting in your face and dumping her affection all over you.  No matter who you are.

Cut to last night:  I was listening to Alan Cohen on Hayhouse Radio.  In addition to a plethora of spiritual and inspirational books, he wrote one called "Are You as Happy as Your Dog?" after which he dedicated an entire radio show to this idea.

Towards the end of the program a woman called in about her dog, Yogi, who, like Clio (who I realize is a cat---but I assure you has dog-like tendencies), loves everyone.  As she talked about this, she went on to say how when someone rejects the love little Yogi has to share, instead of taking it personally, he just looks at her like, "Hey.  This person doesn't want to pet me.  What in the world is wrong with THEM?"

Clio, coincidentally, does the same thing.  Alan went on to discuss this and it set off a huge light bulb in my head.  You see, he pointed out that as humans, if we're rejected our first instinct is typically to say, "Hey.  This person doesn't want to get to know me.  What's wrong with ME?"

And so begins this spiral of self-loathing and worry about how something is terribly wrong with who we are and that we're just not good enough.

Well, phooey to that.

Yogi and Clio and likely every animal or pet on this planet are on to something:  Stop taking things so personally.

I've decided that from now on, I'm not going to take personal rejections so personally.  If someone brushes me off or treats me in a way that's unkind or hurtful, I'm not going to look for what's wrong with me.  Instead, I'll just think to myself, "Hey.  I'm a nice person.  You don't like me?  That's just fine.  I like me.  I'm pretty awesome, actually.  A little weird, sure, but awesome nonetheless."

It was pretty eye-opening to make that discovery.

Although, sometimes even animals can be a little, shall we say, aggressive when it comes to humans.  I mean, if Clio gets rejected she'll either try harder or move on to the next person.

But there's also my cat Tabitha, who upon first meeting typically comes at you like this:

"Touch me again and I will eat you, your children, and your children's children!  Rawr!"

This idea of being as happy as your pet isn't foolproof. But Tabitha's a rare breed.  Not to mention the fact that her past (before she came to me) was painful and abusive.

And I'm pretty sure the same holds true for people. There will always be some who are hurtful and nasty, but for the most part we're good.  And we just never know what someone went through or is currently going through that's shaped their attitude or current mood. 

And heck, every night Tabitha cuddles under my chin and shows nothing but love. Everyone has a soft side---some light and goodness within. We just can't take it personally when they don't choose to share it with us right away...or ever.

Additionally however, she might be harboring a landfill in her gum line. Because when she gets close enough, her breath smells like rotting garbage. But that's a blog entry for another day.

Unicorn. Unicone. One Corn.

I wanted to draw a unicorn today.

Then I thought...

Ice cream.  It makes dreams come true.

I also thought:

Construction can be fun.

Which naturally led me to:

When vandalism goes incredibly, awesomely right.

And finally:

One corn.  One brow.  Uni...corn.

Ah yes, a creative journey of reckless abandon.

(Or perhaps just too much coffee and cabin fever.)

Where have I been?!

They say winter is a time for rest and regeneration.

Well, I'm here to tell you that's totally true.

The holidays found me in pretty bad shape, so to speak.  Just a lot of stress and worry (and the impending arrival of my one-year anniversary of unemployment.)

So, I've been lacking motivation and creativity.  Which has translated into not updating my blog.  (And also has created an indentation on my couch from my stationary ass.  Damn those Bad Girls' Club reruns!)

But don't worry.  I'm slowly making my way back...and likely at the same snail's pace as springtime in Chicago.  In the meantime, here's a random drawing I just did:

This is currently the realm in which my creativity resides.  Pretty scary.

(This is likely to be the form of my blog posts for a while. A random, scrawled brain turd with a caption about my current state of mind.  It's a start.)