The happy warrior, Hubert Humphrey paid the price for doing the right thing. He stood by his principles, though he knew them unpopular. Weeks before the election, he must have taken a slip of "wake the hell up" and realized he was in a popularity contest. He shifted his stance, but it was too late. In those days the news cycle was measured in days and hours, not minutes and seconds like today. His campaign was honorable and he stands as a giant of the old guard who put their own ambition second to what is best for America.
Ad countdown to a new president: Nixon
Historic perspective casts an eerie glow over this one. Nixon's machine was a combine chewing up all that stood between him and the Oval Office. It was the first time I read of the concept of incumbency in advertising. Nixon had it from the git go and never let loose. How daunting it is to face a campaign that assumes the sale with a cocky swagger, taunting opponents into a head-on death match.
Though he was ultimately undone by his demons, taken out by those who loathed him, Nixon's advertising set the template for republicans in the next three cycles.
Ad countdown to a new president: Bobby
Liberal and conservative alike look at these with a wistful sigh. Was it really that simple then? Did things really move that slow in an ad? Some say we lost our innocence as a nation the day his big brother fell in Dallas. For a brief time, it seemed Bobby would give it back.
Ad countdown to a new president: Johnson
Political advertising is the high wire: big stakes, short time. While the influence of traditional media is waning, the power of the political ad remains strong. What one word turned this election? What’s the one word you’re using to measure our new president’s performance? Where did you get that word?
As we count down to next week’s inaugration, let’s remember back over political ads that turned the tide. Regardless of how you voted, if you were out of diapers and watching TV, these ads will echo in your memory.
Starting with the best of the best. I’m sorry for the quality of it, but there is no one ad that so polarized an electorate as Johnson’s Daisy spot. A little girl counting daisy petals contrasted against a nuclear detonation. The operative question: Who’s finger do you want on the button?
Just wait and see how many times that finger-on-the-button reference pops up over the years.
You are the star of your own story
You are writing a story everyday. Just like a book or movie, what determines hit or miss is story; no story, no game. Here's the good news: there's a story in every one of us. How is yours being told?
My mom taught me the power of story first-hand. She bought a roadside ice cream and hot dog joint and sold it years later for top dollar. She gave it a name, Grandma's Kitchen, and built an institution drawing customers from Montreal and Boston to the mountains of New Hampshire. Her success recipe: an authentic story, served warm on a platter of welcome.
A couple weeks ago I watched a chef at work during a dinner at Vine Wine Room–my favorite hangout. Listening to him, I smiled hearing echoes of my mother. His story was a sequel to one I'd already heard from her. "People do business with people they like," she told me. Be likable. Be successful.
Connecting authentically one-to-one on a larger scale is the idea behind client profile videos we're building for sponsors of Tom Tynan's HomeShow Radio new website (goes live 1/10/09). I only now realize they're based on what worked 35 years ago on Route 3 in Whitefield, New Hampshire.
Your story, told authenticity, is compelling. It creates a human connection. Alan O'Neill of Abacus Plumbing needed no explanation. He gets the person-to-person principle on a bone-deep level. I'm betting that's why he's experiencing record growth while competitors are flat to down this year. How's your story working for you?
A father’s day
Tim Russert’s sudden passing has been chronicled, his memory feted, his legacy honored. It is a story of a man who’s life honored God’s greatest gift. The love he gave was evident in stories from every quarter.
This ground of shocking loss stirs memories of an earlier crossing for me. In the six years since, I’ve learned it’s all choice: wallow in the sadness, mourn what seems a history truncated, or accept that endings are beginnings. When confounded by unfolding events, experience has taught me there will come a day when purpose is revealed for the incomprehensible. Instead of wallowing or mourning, what if we choose to live for that moment–a future worth living into.
I bought a TiVO because of Tim Russert; he had the audacity to broadcast during Mass. My DVR now holds that final program of remembrance, a sort of digital memorial. The last few minutes sum up a life well-lived. He was a good and faithful servant, an example to all who are blessed to be fathers too.
UPDATE: Be sure to click the continued link to see The Boss’ surprise farewell.