Mad Men's Twittergate

I got to thinking recently. For the good of mankind, this doesn't happen often.

It was about AMC's short-lived (and short-sighted) temper tantrum over the Twitter accounts that popped up featuring characters from Mad Men. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, stop reading now and click on this video of a guy falling off a ladder; you'll enjoy it more.

So, I was thinking. This could be one of the first bonafide shots across the bow of that recently launched little sailboat we like to call social media. While no one can honestly say where it's headed, we can be sure it'll sink a lot of brands if they continue to approach it like a guy playing the piano wearing catcher's mitts.

Don't get me wrong. Twitter isn't the Second Coming. Hell, 90% of the people I've spoken to have never heard of it. But it's an important piece of brand conversation, and more importantly, it's a perfect platform for consumer evangelism. With Mad Men, you've got fans so rabid for the franchise that they're willing to spend time talking about it, immersing themselves in it. So naturally, you do the logical thing: sic the lawyers on 'em (well, on Twitter anyway).

It's sad and absurd. So many brands still can't grasp the notion that, to bring in the ever-evolving consumer, they have to let the consumer take over the conversation now and then. Let out the trot line a little. Take a risk.

Part of forging any lasting relationship is conceding some control.

It's about trust. It's about caring as much about a customer's satisfaction as they do about their money. And it's what will separate their business model from that of prostitutes and pyramid schemes. Because, you know, they have business models, too.

Speaking of Mad Men: The Real (Lame-o) Sterling-Cooper; Don Draper gets me hot and bothered; Mad, black, and not gonna take it anymore.

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Heat Stroke Non-Sequitors

I don't complain about weather. But with temps in Baltimore licking 100 degrees and the humidity somewhere between rain forest and bathtub fart, even I started to get a bit whiny this past weekend. It was a gradual escalation of pissing and moaning, like the way kids get when you take them shopping; starts with a few whimpers outside of Gap and ends up with them sprawled out under a mannequin in Sears begging for ice cream. (Note: I won't be a parent until September, but I subscribe to the theory of giving whiny kids "something to cry about." In fact, I'd start a charity if I could: Give Kids Something to Cry About ™ . For just a kick in the ass a day--less than a cup of coffee--you can make an instant difference in the life of a child who's crying for no good reason.)

Anyway, I'm lying on the living room floor (the only air conditioned part of the house) watching the entire first season of Mad Men on-demand. And I come to the realization that I was born in the wrong era. Sure, riding my bike around the office, laying down astroturf in the writer's lounge, and Photoshopping Ronald McDonald into Edward Hopper paintings have their charms, but can they really compare to working in the industry in the middle of the 20th century? Fedoras, political incorrectness, and Scotch that flows as free and easy as the mighty Mississippi. All punctuated by big ideas that rippled far beyond the context of simply advertising products; they became ideas that shaped our cultural identity. Big ideas for a small world.

Today, the ideas have to be even bigger to even get noticed, because the world has gotten "harder". Consumers are more sophisticated, more wary, more unwilling to put up with interruptions.

I wonder how Don Draper would do in today's ad industry? I need to lie on the floor and think about it.


M.M.McDermott, ACD/Hot Mess

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