Holiday Wishes

Been a while since I posted, but just wanted to wish everyone a joyous holiday season and a bountiful 2012 ahead.

May it also be a year in which we remember to remember.

Very truly yours,

HQ Cat

National Veterans Day

November 11 will be a day to honor all military men and women who have served our country. HQ salutes all those who have made unselfish sacrifices -- seen or unseen, known or unknown, quietly or shared.

HQ

Monster Burger Dwarfed By Behemoth Bunloafa.

Too big for a bun. Too small for a loaf.

Meet the bunloafa.

Usage: The bunloafa that came out the human’s bread maker made his 15.2 ounce-burger look like a meatball. (See "Buns Should Fit The Meat' in archives for context.)

Buns Should Fit The Meat.

A male human in my immediate family decides to grill hamburgers outside.

He buys onion-toasted buns – eight of them pre-packaged into a 7.5” x 7.5” Cobblestone Mill bag.

Diameter of each bun: four inches.

He seasons the burger and shapes into two large patties. Diameter of each: six inches. Weight of each: 15.2 ounces. But let’s just round it off to a pound.

No way the four-inch onion-toasted buns are going to hold a six-inch burger, much less lettuce, tomato and onion.

So the male human decides to bake his own burger buns in the oven.

He removes his homemade creations at the appointed time.

Not only are the buns big enough for a three-pound burger, but they could accommodate a bottle of beer as well. (See photo.)

Still, let’s give it a go. Grill is heatin’ up….

About Time For Cooler Weather.

You caught me. I am so glad to say goodbye to September, aren't you? A cool dirt floor feels good.

HQ Cat

Somebody Please Bring Me A St. Pauli Girl.

Well, this is a first. If a grocery-store clerk doesn’t drink alcohol, don’t expect him to be familiar with beer brands or to even know where the beer aisle is.

Last week HQ Cat watched as a customer at the checkout waited for a clerk to bring out a 12-pack of St. Pauli Girl. As instructed by the cashier, the clerk was to first check the beer aisle just in case the potentially stupid beer customer overlooked seeing it (you never know when a beer drinker might mistake a Bud Light for a St. Pauli Girl).

Anyway, if the shelf was officially proven to be bare, the clerk was to traipse back to the stockroom and find the St. Pauli Girl.

HQ Cat supposes the clerk decided to first search behind the piled bags of Tidy Cat, because a long time went by.

Meanwhile, the customer, clearly irate, asked the cashier why it was taking so long.

“Well, sir, you have to understand,” the cashier replied, rolling her eyes and making sure the next customer in line wasn't stuffing her melting frozen burrito behind the Burt’s Bees Lip Balm.

“Our clerk doesn’t drink, so he doesn’t know where the beer is.”

Oh, so that’s the hold-up.

Thank the dear Lord the clerk wasn’t a lactose-intolerant snack-food junkie menopausal vegetarian, because he would have never found Tom and Jerry, Little Debbie, Tampax Pearl or the Johnsonville Brats.

Somebody please bring HQ a St. Pauli.

A Crazy Brand Dream Starring NatGeo, O, G, Tag, Ore-Ida, DQ, SEO and the Y.

Last night I had this crazy dream that I lived in the Land of Abbreviations, Acronyms and Portmanteaus (LAAP). I poured myself a glass of G, turned on some Lady A and read an issue of O. I worked out at the Y and washed my BMW. I ate at KFC, watched NatGeo and then switched to Syfy. I ironed my DKNY blouses and rode my Hog (making sure I wore my Tag so I wouldn’t forget the time).

I learned that GEICO wasn’t the name of a gecko but instead stood for Government Employment Insurance Company. (As my gecko-eating alter ego will tell you, this really blew my other mind and I will never ever look at GEICO the same way again.)

I raced by the Shack, the Hut and the Ritz. I left the Citi, dropped in at NPR and whizzed past the NRA.

I confused REO with SEO, which made me wonder why there isn't an SEO Speedwagon.

I even invented my own abbrev: “Ida” for Ore-Ida (Ore-Ida, I know your name is a portmanteau of Oregon and Idaho, but I’d much rather have a friendly conversation with Ida because she’s “All Righta”… maybe you should do a national search for the perfect Ida?).

And then I woke up. Someone in the house said DQ.

Kanes Furniture Store Shakes A Leg When National Competitor Opens Next Door.

Imagine looking out the window of your longtime, family-owned furniture business and seeing the glow of torchieres emanating through the glass of your new neighbor’s massive storefront. That’s what happened when Rooms To Go -- self-proclaimed as America’s No. 1 independent furniture company -- opened this weekend right next door to Kanes of Sarasota, the city’s “oldest fine furniture store” founded in 1950.

Kanes knows a thing or two about Florida-style furniture fashion, finishes and fabric. According to its website, it’s furnished more homes in the area than any other store, plus it continually updates its selections.

On Rooms To Go’s opening day, Kanes predictably ran a newspaper ad in the same section where the giant retailer’s ad appeared.

Only it wasn’t your ordinary sales ad. Instead, Kanes’ headline in big letters read, "WE WELCOME 'ROOMS TO GO' TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD." The ad went on to say, “We always welcome responsible competition to the marketplace. It’s the backbone of good American business.” Readers were then invited to shop Kanes' entire stock of furniture, all specially priced to “celebrate the arrival” of its new neighbor.

HQ applauds Kanes’ smart strategy. The small retailer could have tried to pull the rug out from under Rooms To Go’s feet with a more aggressive message, but instead, it welcomed the furniture giant and reminded readers of Kanes’ newly designed model rooms and vignettes.

Nice job, Kanes. But one thought to put on the table should you decide to run the ad again: Don’t make the “Rooms To Go” name so honkin’ big in your headline. It overshadows your logo big time and makes your ad look like a Rooms To Go ad (which Rooms To Go probably doesn't really mind too much).

Yours very truly,

HQ

Mothers® Car Wax and Mother’s Day.

Just so you know, I posted today's blog entry without researching the Mothers® Car Wax brand.

All I know is that Mothers® has been around forever and that in my opinion, it’s the best car wax on the market.

Ironically, and most unexpectedly, a couple without children decided the family car needed to be waxed today -- on Mother’s Day.

Well, truth be told, it was the husband's idea. His wife thought the car looked just fine.

So I watched and listened. The woman thought the wax smelled good. Her husband didn’t say a word. He just kept polishing.

And when his wife remarked how beautiful the shine was, he said something about carnauba and that it comes from a palm somewhere in Brazil.

Harlequin Cat just thought it was cool that on Mother’s Day a car-wax brand called Mothers® could literally outshine the jewelers and florists of the world.

I wonder if Mothers® ever thought about this. Like I said, I didn’t research the brand.

Searching For The (Retail) Light.

This weekend I watched a woman visit seven stores looking for office chairs: Pier 1 Imports, Broyhill, Copenhagen Imports, HomeGoods, Kanes, Bacon’s Furniture and Havertys. Being an omniscient feline, I knew she was hoping to buy a lighting fixture as well.

The woman was casually dressed. Summer shorts. Sleeveless blouse. Ponytail. She certainly didn’t have to worry about being accosted by salespeople, especially the well-dressed ones at Bacon’s (although she was only one of three customers in the entire store). Her Pier 1 Imports’ experience was by far the most enjoyable. The sales associate went out of his way to help her, although she still didn’t see exactly what she was searching for.

Thirty minutes later, she found a black chair she liked (at Broyhill), but she needed two and they only had one in stock. The salesman said she could take one home that day, and the other would be delivered in six weeks.

When she said she wasn’t willing to wait that long, he tried to sell her brown chairs, which, of course, were in stock (the dark expresso brown was “identical” to black, he said.)

The woman left. But on the way home, she stopped at a lighting store and purchased a ceiling light that wasn’t even on her list to buy – a George Kovacs chrome-and-glass number that she knew would transform her kitchen. No heavy sales pitch. A good price point. And simple, direct answers to her questions, ponytail and all.

Now if only she can find her non-expresso black chairs.

Pardon The Cat Nap.

Actually, I haven't been napping. It's just that I've been been so darn busy that I haven't had time to reflect on a thing, much less write about it.

I'll fill my pen with ink soon.

HQ

Take The Steering Oar With Your Tweets.

“The captain, who had been on the coast before and knew the ropes, took the steering oar."

-- from Richard H. Dana’s 1840 memoir, Two Years Before The Mast

HQ wishes more people on Twitter would take the steering oar and tweet their own unique messages instead of sharing information we can get from any news source.

The desired halo effect is becoming increasingly transparent.

I already know about Japan's devastating earthquake. I know daylight saving time started yesterday. I know about the foreclosure crisis. Am I the only one who’s tired of regurgitated news?

As Seth Godin writes this morning, he loves hearing about the next big thing, but he’s more interested in what "you're doing with the old big thing.”

What would happen if we were forced to retreat on retweets for just a day? I bet we would survive.

Branding And The Sixth Toe, Part II.

And so the story continues….

Yes, he’s a polydactyl cat, dozing outside The Ernest Hemingway Home & Museum in Key West. According to the museum’s website, Hemingway was given a six-toed cat by a ship’s captain, and some of the cats, like this one, are descendents of that original cat.

So instead of having five front toes and four back ones like normal cats, this one has six toes on his front paws.

They look like big soft mittens.

To think that this great-great-great-great-great grandcat of the one who sat and watched Hemingway write is mind-blowing.

Still, he looks like a normal puss. But HQ bets that if you were to own him, you’d go out of your way to point out his amazing hidden ancestry, his remarkable story.

Because it is remarkable.

A lesson for advertisers, don’t you think?

Look for the remarkable difference.

Then tell your story.

Branding And The Sixth Toe.

Last week a shoe retailer called out of the blue and said he’d like to “brainstorm” what made his brand different.

That should have been my first clue -- that he wanted to dream up a differentiator instead of identifying one based on facts and competitor research. “But research takes time and costs money,” he argued, adding that most shoe stores provide the same customer service. “We need to come up with something fresh and zingy. The younger generations like that kind of stuff.”

“Takes time and costs money” was my second clue.

The word “zingy,” the third.

I might send him this cat image.

Actually, it’s a polydactyl cat if you look long and hard enough.

‘Scuse Me, Enterprise, But No One’s Snowboarding In Florida This Week.

Dear Enterprise Rent-A-Car:

Nice email you sent inviting me to “warm up” with a $9.99 weekend special. I really like the photo of the snowboard couple all bundled up and laughing in the wintery scene.

But the thing is, it’s 75 degrees here. Not every state in the country is blanketed with snow and ice.

Maybe you got the photo mixed up with your surfboard couple? Oh, no -- you sent the surfboard version to your Chicago mailing list? And your Toledo list, too?

Wow. You should find someone to help manage your e-blasts, which, by the way, is a term that makes e-marketing service provider MailChimp "cringe." MailChimp says to focus on e-relationships, not one-size-fits-all e-blasts. Good idea. Might keep you from falling asleep at the wheel next time. Just a friendly suggestion.

Off to the beach,

HQ

Royalty Is Where You Find It.

Mention the word “copycat,” and HQ’s ears prick, especially when the subject is about finding royal couple lookalikes.

The Associated Press reports that model agencies are looking for young adults who can double as Prince William and future princess Kate Bevan. Appears the couple’s upcoming nuptials have spiked a demand for their body doubles to appear at special events, either together or with other fake, royal-family members.

Copy-Kates have been relatively easy to find. But it’s the search for a proper fake William that has agencies in a royal tizzy. Not only do very few young men have William's “chubby cheeks, toothy grin and thinning hair,” but they also don’t have his elusive royal quality.

An acting coach explains that William’s lifetime of privilege is difficult to mimic. “It’s more of an aura. It’s a product of 28 years of his upbringing.”

Adds an agency manager, “This sounds terrible to say, but perhaps it’s all about good breeding.”

Good breeding, indeed. What a noble viewpoint.

Perhaps the manager's notion of how a prince should carry himself is based on a childhood Cinderella book. How does she let a hopeful William-lookalike down easy? Does she send him to the lab for a blue blood test, knowing he won’t pass? Does she remind him that breeding is a way to produce offspring in a controlled and organized way, and that she doesn’t want to waste time barking up the wrong family tree?

There’s that mind's-eye, perception-is-reality thing again, and we all know that reality is where you find it.

But so is royalty -- even in a Tropaeolum majus.

Sex, Religion, Politics And Tequila.

For starters, the bar customers weren’t interested in polite conversation. They were slinging shots, verbal and liquid, and no one was ducking.

It all started when a woman who looked like she drank a pint of vodka a day said “tequila is tequila.”

Before you could say Pope Benedict, the conversation switched from Palin to Patrón.

It wasn’t pretty. Voices rose.

“You don’t know the soul of a real margarita.”

“You wouldn’t know agave from Mondavi.”

"I’ve got your Sauza right here.”

Suddenly, nine relatively quiet people and one bartender turned into 10 self-anointed brand experts. This is what liquor makers live for. It’s why they spend millions trying to integrate their brand benefits into our emotional matrixes. Despite their efforts, millions of consumers will remain brand renegades (tequila is tequila). But millions more embrace brands because they say something about themselves.

Next time you’re at a bar, ask for Caliber Premium Tequila. If you get a blank look, mention it’s sold at Wal-mart in plastic bottles.

Or, ask for Cuervo Reserva Antigua 1800 Añejo and watch strangers size you up and possibly decide you’re someone they want to hang out with.

The language of emotion is what companies should really be listening to when examining their brands. Products aren’t important. Stories are.

“No way, man. You’re confusing Jose Cuervo with Don Julio!”

We’ll save the salt and lime debate for another day.

Seagulls Not Born To Be Wide Receivers.

Turtle Beach, Dec. 31, 2010. Two teenagers are “playing football” with seagulls. They throw rocks and shells up into the air. Gulls dive. Boys laugh. Fun to fool birds who think shells are pieces of bread.

Fun to then hit them with football.

Harlequin Cat wishes for a kinder new year.