On this last day of November, on the precipice of the Christmas season (or did that start on Halloween?), I thought it’d be interesting to take a look at the holiday music world. Now we all know the stable of standards: Bing, Frank, Nat, etc.  There’s also the pop artist Christmas approach: Lennon’s “War is Over, U2’s “Baby, Please Come Home for Christmas,” The Boss’ rendition of “Santa Clause is Coming to Town,” even Blink 182’s “I Won’t Be Home for Christmas.”  And who can forget Mariah Carey’s late 90s album that was entirely dedicated to Jesus’ birthday? (I can). 

These are all customary or fun, but what about Christmas music that is actually well-crafted and truly listenable? 

Last year, indie artist Sufjan Stevens released a five-disc album entitled “Songs for Christmas.”  The anthology contains both covers of traditional songs (“The First Noel,” “O Come All Ye Faithful,” etc.) and Sufjan originals such as “Come On! Let’s Boogey to the Elf Dance!” 

The beauty of this work is that it avoids the Christmas cliché, which Stevens refers to as “that creepy Christmas feeling.”  The album paints a rural Midwestern landscape (Stevens hails from Michigan according to legend) that evokes feelings of the traditional, almost legendary Christmas: heavy snows, wind-whipped trees, strong eggnog, warm fires and family.  The album also embraces the religious roots of Americana that seem almost ancient (it’s tough to describe, but you’ll feel it when you listen).  For me, I can actually hear “real” rustic Christmas in Sufjan’s banjos, slinking guitars, make-shift choirs and hushed, soothing voice.  Plus, his lo-fi recording style makes the album feel like he recorded it just for you (in fact, before the album’s release, Stevens had always recorded little homemade Christmas EPs for his friends – a tactic that is quite evident on the record). 

So if radio-friendly Christmas music has you jaded and yearning for more, check why I consider, the present day Christmas masterpiece – it’s available on iTunes, but if you physically buy it, you’ll get sheet music, stickers, Stevens family Christmas photos, buttons and more.
 
 
   
 
   
  

 
         

There’s a good article from today’s BullDog Reporter on the crisis communications response following the 2007 Chicago Marathon. In case you missed it, the Marathon was held during the hottest October on record.  Many people were dehydrated, hospitalized, injured and sadly, one runner died (though it may or may not have been a result of the weather).

Marathon Director Carey Pinkowski was responsible for communications following the race. According to Michael Geczi, Executive Vice President, Corporate Communications, Ashton Partners, who wrote the BullDog article, here are some of Pinkowski’s most egregious quotes following the crisis.

1. “There were adequate fluids at all our locations.”

2. “Our participants were not drinking the water; they were cooling themselves with it. That’s something that, I’ll be honest with you, we didn’t anticipate.”

3. “Is there anything we could have done better? No. We anticipated the weather. I’m very proud of the way things went.”

4. “We are reviewing the details …”

5. (Silence).

Those of you who read our blog regularly know there is a golden rule for crisis communications: Validate concern and show action.

In his first comment, Pinkowski flat out denies the concern that there wasn’t enough water, despite widespread reports from volunteers and runners to the contrary.  In the second comment, he adds insult to injury by accusing the runners of not using the water that was available in the proper fashion.

The third and fourth statements clearly violate the second aspect of the golden rule by not showing action. Admitting you are proud of the disaster says you’re not going to do anything differently. And “reviewing the details” means you’re not interested in finding out what went wrong.

The last part – the silence – goes beyond the golden rule to the heart of crisis communications.  When it comes down to it, all people want to know is: Do you care?  Silence says no.  Silence says you’re just going to hunker down and hope it works itself out of the news cycle.

The Chicago Marathon was tough on a lot of people.  But it didn’t need to be as tough on Pinkowski (or on the city’s 2016 Olympic bid) as it was.  Good communications can go a long way – even further than 26.2 miles.

If you haven’t seen Dove’s “Evolution” video on YouTube yet, you should. It’s poignant. It’s irreverent. It’s surprising. It’s even a little frightening.

The video is meant to punctuate a self-esteem campaign the brand embarked on months ago by using a photo shoot to show how the beauty industry promotes a distorted reality of beauty. And its wild success inspired a second video from Dove, “Onslaught,” which warns parents to “talk to your daughter before the beauty industry does.” With a collage of images ranging from underwear ads to plastic surgery procedures to infomercials, Dove further demonstrates the dangerous influence of ads and media on impressionable young girls’ self-esteem. Pretty thought-provoking, right?

Unfortunately, Dove forgot to mention that not every brand owned by its parent company Unilever exactly shares such provocative thoughts. You see, as a raging activist and blog community has been quick to point out, Unilever also owns Axe, a men’s deodorant whose brand predicates itself on the very images Dove attacks (one Axe campaign that has opponents up in arms encourages Axe wearers to turn “nice girls naughty”). Virtually any ad in “Onslaught” could be swapped out for an Axe ad — and that’s exactly what one industrious critic has done.  Rye Clifton, a strategic planner from the Martin Agency created a video to demonstrate Unilever’s hypocrisy, which appears just above the original when a search is conducted on YouTube. 

So what do you do when a viral video campaign gets a little too contagious?  Exactly what Unilever’s doing — not a whole lot.

Despite seemingly mixed-messages, Unilever has no intentions of pulling either brands’ campaigns, but instead, is embracing the natural “conversation” that’s been sparked. Throughout interviews with multiple mouthpieces, Unilever has stuck to its position that the Axe ads not only target a different audience, but they are also clearly meant as spoofs. Though advertising for Axe and Dove is handled by different agencies (Ogilvy & Mather and Bartle Bogle Hegarty respectfully), Edelman manages PR for both. Maybe that’s why company spokespeople are all singing the same tune.

Is the company right? Maybe, maybe not. But last I checked, the “Child-rearing and Moral Fiber” departments weren’t listed among Unilever’s facilities.  And while the debate over whether or not Dove is hypocritical continues on, at least the chauvinist pigs, a.k.a. AXE wearers, will smell a little bit better… 

Nearly one month ago – on Halloween, mind you – Philadelphia Inquirer architecture critic Inga Saffron dismissed the residential high-rise Symphony House as “Nightmare on Broad Street” and “the ugliest new condo building in Philadelphia.” While Inga’s harsh critique of a project touted by developers and city officials in of itself warrants discussion, perhaps more intriguing is the ensuing fallout.

Galvanized by Inga’s article, proponents and opponents of Symphony House rushed to voice their opinions and draw up battle lines on none other than the Inquirer’s Letter to the Editor section. Symphony House’s developer Carl Dranoff and architect Michael Ytterberg, backed by prominent Philadelphia developers, naturally took exception to Inga’s scathing remarks, whereas man-on-the-street responses generally fell more in line with Inga’s remarks. Among the many responses, however, one comment in particular – from David Stewart of Haddonfield – resonated with me. He wrote:

One is free to regard Symphony House as either a “Frankenstein mix,” as Inquirer architecture critic Inga Saffron put it, or as “timeless,” in the words of its builder Carl Dranoff and (he presumes) his “many sophisticated buyers” (Letters, Oct. 31). In either case, it’s hard to imagine a letter to the editor on this issue meriting front-page mention (with a photo!) and nearly half the editorial space. When space in The Inquirer is given over to those whose feelings have been nicked based upon their financial, civic and personal connections, that’s the real “Nightmare on Broad Street.”A month later, with the debate over Symphony House largely subsided, I still find myself considering the implications of David’s comment. Are individuals “whose feelings have been nicked” entitled to an editorial rebuttal? Does this type of backlash prompt critics to become more cautious in their critiques, or does it simply come with the territory? Has the editorial page been compromised by inequitable treatment of editorial coverage? How can the Inquirer better prioritize the volume and placement of letters to the editor?

To me, it comes down to one thought: What if every restaurant owner to receive a bad review from notorious food critic Craig LaBan were entitled to a front page rebuttal the following day? Worse still, what if only the most prominent restaurant owners were entitled a rebuttal, whereas lesser owners were forced to endure the critique in silence?Let’s not go down that unsavory path.

The phrase “when pigs fly” means… well basically… never.  Ironic, then, that all of a sudden we have two very different sets of pigs that have taken flight.

The Philadelphia Inquirer has recently launched a well-done series of print ads and an online campaign patting themselves on the back for having a slight up-tick in circulation.

For the six months that ended Sept. 30, The Inky had slightly increased weekday sales (about 338,000) up almost 8,000 from the same period last year. Its Sunday circulation was down by about 20,000 (when flying pigs wobble?). But really, the Inquirer should be congratulated for being just about the only significant newspaper in the country to not be bleeding subscribers; the New York Times was impressed.

The Inquirer’s self-congratulatory campaign has taken flight at the exact same time a somewhat different corporate entity has launched pigs of its own – Trojan condoms.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6krr40mdHM

Their ads are telling men on the make that their chances of unprotected success are about as good as pigs flying… unless they buy Trojan’s products.

So you now you know what the newspaper business and condoms have in common. But it leaves a couple of questions: Whose pigs went airborne first? And, perhaps more importantly, do you think the ladies will like it if I subscribe to the Inquirer?