Things I don't need to know Part 1: See's nutritional info

Welcome to the beginning of yet another ongoing running series of blog posts from all of us here at Rotation and Balance World Headquarters.

Like my Luckiest Actor Alive series, my Why I Love Costco series, my What Took So Long series and my Guilty Pleasures series, this one will deal with a specific topic - things you don't need to know.

Although it's not a competition (or is it?), it'll also make coming up with a post much easier for me. Cross one new year's resolution off the list.

So, seized by the holiday spirit, I bought a five pound box of See's candy for one of the companies we do business with. And I had every intention of getting it to them before Christmas.

Then I had every intention of getting it to them before New Year's.

Then I had every intention of getting it to them the first week in January.

Then I had the discussion with my wife about whether it was too late to deliver a Christmas gift. We both agreed it was. I felt bad about not having been able to deliver a box of candy just a few blocks from my house on time, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I ripped the paper off that sucker and drown my sorrows in chocolate.

Can you blame me?

However, inside the box was this little bit of buzz-killing reading. Really? A nutritional brochure for See's candy? Because that's what people stuffing their face with the vanilla cremes want to know?

I think not.

Internally I'm sure the fine minds at See's thought they were being informative. After all, there is that pesky law about nutritional value labeling in California. But intentionally or not, what they were really being was annoying. The last thing anyone eating See's candy wants to know is:

A. What's in it (besides chocolate)

B. How many calories it has

C. Anything besides how good it is

Maybe it'd be better if they put it under the second tier of candy at the bottom of the box. That way it wouldn't matter and you wouldn't even have to pick it up and look at it. Where it is now, at the top of the box, you can't help but pick it up to get to the candy. Your eyes can't help see the words.

And that slight twinge of guilt for having seen it is unavoidable.

But guilt is something me and my people have had a lot of experience with. And I've turned getting over it quickly into somewhat of an art form.

At least until Valentine's Day when I'll be dealing with it again.

The stupidest thing anyone's ever said to me in advertising

It doesn't matter whether they're just starting out or seasoned pros, every copywriter and art director I know has a "stupidest thing anyone's ever said" story. In fact, there are a bunch of websites like this one devoted entirely to stupid things people in the business say.

People more frightened, more practical and more employed than me have said I shouldn't name names, because "You never know where you'll wind up and who knows who and blah blah blah..."

So I won't name names. I'll leave clues. See if you can get in touch with your inneR Colombo and figure out the genius who said it to me.

Here's the thing. I was freelancing at this big agency that prints money off its one main automotive account. I'm tempted to tell you the name of the agency, but those same people who say I shouldn't name names also say I shouldn't name agencies, so I won't.

Saatchi.

I was writing the brochure for the 2007 Toyota Matrix. Now brochures aren't something that put a big smile on any copywriter's face. However they do put a big deposit in their bank account, so thank you very much and I'm available for any and all of your automotive brochure needs.

I mean I don't want to sound mercenary about it, but it is freelance. What do you need, a roadmap? Anyway, it's kind of the same way I feel about agency tItles. They're pretty useless. I really don't care if you call me creative director or janitor. As long as you say it with cash.

But I digress.

The person who'd hired me and another freelance writer named Lori neglected to tell us he'd given notice. So the second week we were there, he was gone. Which was fine. Lori and I are both senior people, and we just carried on creative directing each others work and getting the job done. One part of the job was that Matrix broChure. I'd written it, it'd been routed and was virtually on its way out the door.

Right at that point, a freelance associate creative director (speaking of useless titles) was brought in to oversee the work until someone permanent was hired.

Again, not naming names, but I Hope you're reading closely.

This acd (lower case intentional) stopped the presses and wanted to review all the Copy.

This is where it gets good.

In the brOchure I talked about the cargo space in the Matrix, mentioNing all the different kinds of things you could carry in it. It was something along the lines of three mothers-in-law, two surfboards and eighteen wiener dogs.

The wiener dogs are what did me in.

The project manager told me that the freelance acd, who'd been on the job and immersed in the culture of Toyota and Saatchi for a staggering total of two days, wanted to talk to me about the copy. I asked what the problem was, and she rolled her eyes and said I'd better speak to him myself.

So I called him. Here's how the conversation went:

Me: Hey, what's up?

Him: I wanted to talK to you about the Matrix copy.

Me: Okay.

Him: Here, where you say "wiener dogs", you're talking about dachshunds right?

Me: Yep.

Him: Well there could be some confusion between that and hot dogs. (by the way, that wasn't the stupid comment, although definitely a close second).

Me: I don't think it'll be a problem. Look - you're a bright guy, you figured it out.

Him: Well, the other thing I'm really worried about is that PETA might come after us. (THAT was the comment.)

I couldn't help myself - it just came tumbling out.

Me: Are you f#$&ing kidding me?!

Him: Well you know Toyota is a big target with deep pockets, and I'd hate to have PETA all over us for this. (Third runner up.)

Me: First of all, driving small dogs in a car isn't animaL abuse. And second, I'm pretty sure PETA has better things to do than go looking through Matrix brochures for things to sue over.

Him: Alright, I'm still worried, but go ahead and use your best judgement.

Me: I already did, but thanks.

Now I know I sounded a little hostile. But the stupid needle was way in the red, and, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I have a low threshold. Especially when it's coming from the new kId on the block.

Funny thing is apparently the new kid had a low threshold for my hostility, and the next day, out of the blue, my services as well as Lori's were no longer needed.

So there you go. It would've been nice to finish the gig, but judging from this one conversation we both had sized up each other pretty quickly: he was going to continue to say unbelievably stupid, chickens#&t comments, and I was going to keep calling him on it.

I don't know if this person is a good writer or not. I know he's had a lot of automotive experience. I may have just been on the receiving end of one incredibly stupid comment in an otherwise brilliant career. And now that some time has goNe by, even though I know there's no chance he's reading this, I want him to know I wish him luck no matter where his journey takes him.

Unless it takes him to an agency I'm working at.

Then I wish he just shuts his trap and gets out of the way.

Door to door

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Another.

Another who?

Another a&%$@*e at my door trying to sell me something.

It always surprises me when door-to-door salesmen show up on my doorstep. For one thing, it seems like such a throwback to a more innocent time. For another, I can't believe these people really think that by showing up unannounced and unwanted, I'm actually going to buy what they're selling. I don't buy anything from the many daily cards and flyers for house-cleaning services and lawn maintenance that get left on my step. I'm not going to buy anything from them. And finally, I was born at night, but it wasn't last night - I know they're just here to case my house, and then come back when no one's home and rob me blind.

I don't care if they're not. In my mind they are.

When I pulled up to my house last night, there was this guy standing in front of my neighbor's house (the good neighbor, not the other one). He was on his cell phone, and as I walked into my house he waved and said, "Hey." Well "hey" right back pal. I was fine being friendly to him at this point, because he wasn't on my property with his brochure about a new home security system. Yet.

A few minutes after I got in the house and settled in, there was the knock at the door. I knew right away it was him. So I immediately jumped into action, and did what I always do when someone suspicious I don't know comes to the door.

I called my German Sheperd into the living room.

I went to the door, my hand on my dog's collar looking like I was holding him back. The truth is, I was holding him back - but only because he would've licked the guy to death.

My dog hasn't read the German Sheperd manual.

Holding the dog with one hand, I opened the door with the other, but just the minimum amount so that he couldn't see into my house, but could see that I had a large dog with sparkly teeth that looked like he wanted to have a nice sales guy with steak sauce for dinner.

He started in with a hard sell about Skyline Home Security Systems. I said, "Oh, to keep out people you don't want on your property." It was lost on him.

I know times are tough and everyone needs to work, but I decided to save this guy some time by telling him we were happy with our system and not planning on replacing it. He said okay and left.

When I told my wife who it was and what he was selling, she was immediately concerned. Her father had been in the security/alarm business for years and had always told her that door-to-door alarm salesmen are always casing your house.

Even though the door hadn't been open enough for him to case anything, I ran up the street after him. I got one of his brochures, and a phone number to contact him. Then this morning, I called Skyline to find out if he was really one of their sales reps, or a guy trying to avoid a third strike. Turns out he was one of theirs.

Maybe next time instead of saying "Hey" when I see a door-to-door salesman loitering outside on his cell phone, I'll say, "Hey, don't bother going to that house."

It won't be as much fun for the dog. But then that's what pizza delivery guys are for.