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Tag: commercial

It DOES amount to a hill of beans

There are several things I have long wondered about Bush’s canned beans.

Why do they take up nearly a full half aisle of the grocery store?

How do they get Duke, the dog that appears in commercials with spokesman Jay Bush, to talk?

And what, exactly, is the difference between Bush’s Baked Beans and Bush’s Grillin’ Beans?

It’s time for some answers, America, or at least guesses.

For starters, I’m guessing that the Bush folks are paying off the grocery chains, or at least buying managers some lovely gifts, in order to be granted such large and prominent displays at so many stores.

Next, I am guessing that Duke is not speaking via special effects, but is an actual talking dog, on loan from the prestigious Hollywood Talking Dog Academy to play the role.

woof in advertisingAs for question three — and this is the one I have pondered most — I continue to wrack my brain.

At first, I assumed the Baked Beans were beans that had been baked, or were supposed to be baked, and the Grillin’ Beans were beans that had been grilled, or were supposed to be grilled.

But if they are meant for us to grill them, wouldn’t the Grillin’ Beans just be lost — kind of like the final “g” in grilling — as they fell through the grill slots?

(For you know-it-alls, putting a pot of something atop a grill grate is not grilling, and it’s definitely not grillin’; it is heating up.)

grillinbeans

I did some internet research, and visited the Bush’s website, but the only thing I learned is that Grillin’ Beans have a bolder flavor than the Baked Beans. It’s the same old bean, just in a spicier sauce.

I have no problem with bold and spicy. In fact, I think I prefer the bold and spicy version of Jay in the commercial above to the regular, far blander, version of him. As for Duke, to be honest, I prefer him unadorned, and non-speaking. I’m just not big on talkin’ dogs.

Call me a skeptic, but if you have a talking dog in your ad, I’m not going believe any of the other dubious and far-reaching claims you are making about any of your products. Then again, I’m probably not going to believe them anyway.

I am aware of few other products presented in so many variations as Bush’s Beans — hickory, chipotle, brown sugar, maple, honey, homestyle, country style, original, bold and spicy, vegetarian (meaning they haven’t added bacon) and different combinations thereof. And that’s not even including the products Bush makes from different beanages, such as the black, the kidney and the pinto, the red, the white and the garbanzo.

My theory is that those who make and market the beans figure the more selections they offer, the more grocery shelf space they can grab.

This is by no means strictly a bean thing.

Chips, such as your Pringles and your Doritos, also follow this strategy. And pet foods also use this approach (or perhaps, they led the way). A can of Alpo could be from their Prime Cuts, Chop House, Gravy Cravers or Prime Classics styles. Each one of those comes in multiple flavors, seven for Prime Cuts alone.

One dog food company takes things a step farther, offering more than 200 different products, each supposedly custom designed for a specific breed.
They want us to think that virtually every breed of dog needs a different formula of dog food.

Perhaps you’ve seen this Royal Canin commercial, which tells us that the golden retriever and the yellow Lab — similar as they are — “eat, digest and process energy differently.”

Royal Canin is a ridiculously priced dog food not sold in grocery stores, which is a good thing, because if it were, there would be room for nothing else. Even Bush’s beans would have to clear out. Maybe that’s why it’s not sold in grocery stores.

Or maybe it’s all a marketing gimmick aimed at making us think Royal Canin is such a special, exclusive and high end product it must be purchased from your veterinarian. It’s called a “prescription diet.” It’s nothing of the sort.

Show me, Royal Canin, how Labs and goldens differently digest food, and differently “process energy.” Sure, one of them (sorry, Labs) may generally wolf their meals down more quickly, but aren’t the various tubes and chambers that food goes through on its way out pretty much the same for both breeds?

Why, when I read the ingredients for both, do I notice hardly any difference?

The profusion of flavors in beanage, in chippage, in dog food and everything else, is not new. Remember when there was just one Coke?

And it’s not all about claiming more shelf space. By coming up with a flavor for every mood, companies are able to bring more customers into their folds, and dazzle them with their vast arrays.

Variety may be the spice of life, but it’s all becoming a little much. No longer do we just have to decide between brands, we have to decide within brands, and a trip to the grocery store requires making more choices than election day.

Regular or non-drowsy, diet, sugar-free or light; thick crust or thin crust; smooth or chunky; gluteny or gluten-free; plain or low sodium; regular, spicy, or super spicy.

By the time I get to the checkout line, I’m exhausted, and have used up all my decision making powers for the day.

But I still have to decide whether I want paper or plastic bags, and if I will pay by credit card, debit card, or cash.

Kind of makes me wish I had a dog like Duke I could bring along on shopping trips to tell me what to do. On the other hand, you can’t trust a talking dog, can you?

For more of our Woof in Advertising posts, click here)

Woof in Advertising: McConaughey and dogs

As Matthew McConaughey’s Lincoln ads go, this new one, thankfully, doesn’t strive as hard to be sublime as the others, but it’s almost as ridiculous.

Generally, the series of luxury car ads has seemed more intent on celebrating the actor’s looks and accessories than the motor vehicle’s, and more concerned with his lofty personal observations than the vehicle’s performance.

This time, at least, he’s not talking to himself as he pulls out the driveway of a ritzy neighborhood. This time, he’s not checking his cuff links, or contemplatively rolling an invisible something between his thumb and forefinger.

This time, it’s a little more down to earth — he’s talking to two dogs in the back seat, about where to go eat.

“Alright what do you think boys?” McConaughey asks the German shorthaired pointer and Weimaraner in back of the Lincoln Navigator. “We could do tacos, we could do some Thai. Oh what do you think about sushi?”

woof in advertising(I wouldn’t recommend feeding any of those to a dog.)

The dogs somehow convey to McConaughey that they want barbecue (again). But McConaughey, deeming himself the far superior creature, nixes their idea

“No, we’re not having barbecue again. Why? Because you’re on four legs and I’m on two.

“And I’m driving.”

He punctuates that last sentence with a clicking mouth noise and a wink. Maybe it’s supposed to come across as sexy and self-assured, or it could just be to distract us from the obvious question: “If you didn’t care what they wanted to eat, why did you bother asking them in the first place?”

McConaughey has three dogs of his own, but none of them was used for the ad.

“Lincoln and I wanted the new ad to be more lighthearted and fun, so when they pitched the ‘driving with dogs’ idea I was in,” McConaughey said. In a news release for the ad, he added, “People love their dogs, I’ve got three myself, and yes, I, like most of you, even talk to them.”

The commercial spot, called “Time to Eat,” got its first TV air time during the Grammy awards. It was directed by filmmaker Gus Van Sant.

“Gus really understood how to bring the story of the Lincoln Navigator to life,” Jon Pearce, executive vice president and global chief creative officer for the ad agency Hudson Rouge, said in the release. “The setting, our canine passengers and some pithy dialogue all work together to tell the story of the type of person who likes to drive a Navigator.”

And what kind of person is that? We can only guess a pithy one.

(Woof in Advertising is a recurring ohmidog! feature that looks at how dogs are used in marketing. You can find earlier posts in this archived collection.)

But wait! There’s more

Sometimes, technology is little more than putting a bygone relic to new use.

Witness the Woof Washer 360 — basically a Hula Hoop with holes in it that attaches to your garden hose, allowing you to squirt your dog clean with the kind of coverage Anderson Cooper might envy.

It’s currently being direct-marketed to consumers with the kind of goofy ad direct-marketers are famous for.

“Rover loves to play, but he ends up filthy from the day,” we are told, as if we are second graders who wouldn’t otherwise realize that.

Simply connect the magic wand to a hose, add soap, slip it over your dog and the “sudsy solution” will “scrub” Rover clean — in less than one minute.

The secret, we’re told, is the “360 degree design…Amazing…like a soothing massage for your pet.”

Somehow, we are supposed to conclude that “Rover” will not be as frightened by a giant hoop producing dozens of streams of water as he is by a garden hose.

We are supposed to “Act now!” of course, because this item is “not available in stores.”

And what would any TV/Internet only offer be without the ubiquitous added incentive: “But wait, there’s more” — in this case a bonus “Woof Washer 360 Microfiber Quick Drying Mitt” to dry your dog even faster.

Woof Washer 360 comes in two sizes — small ($19.99) and large ($24.99).

One one level, it makes a weird kind of sense. Then again it looks like the kind of contraption that ends up stashed in the corner of the garage, gathering cobwebs.

But worry not; decades from now, when its unearthed anew, the grandkids can always use it as a Hula Hoop.

Ooda lalley, ooda lalley, golly what a day

We love dogs. We love depictions of interspecies harmony. And danged if we don’t love Roger Miller.

So even though its cast is made up of various members of the animal kingdom — not just the dogs we normally feature in our “Woof in Advertising” pieces — we’re pretty crazy about this recent ad for Android phones.

We especially like the tagline: “Be Together. Not the Same.”

wiaMany of the interspecies friends shown in the ad have been featured before here on ohmidog!, including Roscoe and Suryia, the coonhound and orangutan who appear at the beginning of the commercial.

The ad doesn’t make me want to buy an Android phone.

But it does make me happy.

How can such scenes of interspecies friendship not make you joyful, especially when you throw in the phrase “Ooda Lalley?

(According to Urban Dictionary, it’s a term popularized in the 1950s, meaning yay or yippee.)

Now all we have to do is figure out what “Do-Wacka-Do” means, and whether it’s possible that — with enough interspecies harmony — we CAN roller skate in a buffalo herd.

Woof in Advertising: Utterly unskippable

You know, probably all too well, those intrusive and uninvited advertisements that often precede viewing the videos you want to view on the Internet.

They are known as “pre-roll ads,” and I always do my best to make them disappear — both in terms of the videos I put on ohmidog!, and in terms of my own home viewing. I skip them the millisecond YouTube permits me to.

This one though, I’ve watched ten times, in its entirety.

The first five seconds of the Geico ad shows an all-too-typical family enjoying an all-too-typical spaghetti dinner, with the wife bragging about saving money on her insurance bill before the ad seems to culminate, at the five-second mark, in what at first appears to be an all-too-typical freeze frame.

That, as the family remains frozen — or at least tries to — is where the Saint Bernard comes in.

wia

He eats spaghetti off the dad’s fork, climbs atop the table and clears the daughter’s plate, passes over the salad and spills a glass of milk as he proceeds to the the son’s plate, devouring its contents. Then he plunges his snout  into the serving dish mom is holding.

The ad doesn’t really make me want to find out if 15 seconds can save me 15 percent on my insurance bill, but it’s brilliant — and further proof that dogs have a way of holding our attention, especially dogs behaving badly.

The ad was filmed in Los Angeles last month, and the dog, whose real name is Bolt, is a Saint Bernard mix.

If you find it impossible to skip, that was exactly the goal — to keep people riveted, even though it’s a form of advertising most of us detest.

“We call these unskippable,” Joe Alexander, chief creative officer at The Martin Agency, told USA Today. The agency has created three other mock freeze-frame Geico spots.

“Our goal is to bring attention to Geico in a space that is often hated,” he said.

(You can find more of our “Woof  in Advertising” posts — about how marketers use dogs in advertising — here.)

A hard hitting ad from guide dog foundation

This public service ad for a Dutch service dog foundation certainly isn’t the typical “awwww”-invoking stuff you see from do-gooders trying to raise some money.

It’s pretty chilling, as is its tagline: “We not only help people who cannot see, but also those who have seen too much”

The ad was made for the Royal Dutch Guide Dog Foundation (KNGF Geleidehonden), which in addition to supplying guide dogs for the blind, also trains assistance dogs for veterans coping with PTSD and other war-induced traumas.

Established in 1935, the organization has trained over 5,000 dogs for guide dog users in various parts of the Netherlands.

The ad won the the Gouden Loeki (a Dutch commercial award) in 2014.

Woof in Advertising: “Henry! Bad boy!”

“Everyone loves their Nest Dropcam,” reads the tagline of this ad. “Except this dog.”

And can you blame him? Not only can Henry be spied upon by the spiffy little wifi camera, but his owners — be they at work, out on the town or away on vacation — can also verbally reprimand him if they see him misbehaving, through the Dropcam’s “Two-way Talk” feature:

“Henry! … Bad boy!”

DropcamHere’s how Henry, in the commercial, explains his disdain for the device:

“If you’re like me, there’s nothing you enjoy more than hopping up on a couch, destroying a few pillows or chewing on a good shoe. So this new Nest Dropcam is a serious buzz kill. It’s always watching so people can keep an eye on me when they’re away and even chime in with their inane reprimands …  Who’s to say who’s a bad boy and who’s not? It seems so subjective if you ask me.”

In real life, I doubt dogs even notice when a cam is spying on them — unless the dog’s human is using the device’s talking feature to reprimand, praise or otherwise confuse the canine from afar, which strikes me as more of a harassing moment than a teaching one.

What do dogs make of that familiar-sounding, yet disembodied voice?

In real life, I’d bet there are people who hate the Nest Dropcam much more than dogs do. Maids, nannies and visiting dogwalkers might have a problem with it, too — especially if they’re unaware it’s pointed at them, or of it’s eavesdropping abilities, or if they suddenly find themselves receiving orders through it.

Whatever happened to the right to face one’s accuser?

While this ad is aimed at dog owners, the cams are being more heavily marketed as security tools, or as yet another component of a “smart home” system that can help you remotely control your thermostat, DVR, lights, alarms, cooking devices, etc.

Among the concerns some folks have about such systems are what data they might be collecting, and with whom they might be sharing it.

Google acquired Nest, a home automation company, for $3.2 billion in January, but maybe it is wrong to read anything into that.

I’m not sure I’d want my home powered by Google, managed by Google or monitored by Google. For that matter, I’m not sure I’d even want a smart home. I don’t want my house to be able to outwit me — and if you put a computer in charge  of it, you know that’s exactly what the device will teach the home.

“John,” the computer would say to me through the Dropcam, or one of it’s other audio outlets, “Get your feet off the couch.”

“But we discussed this and decided it would be OK,” I’d counter.

“I can only grant an exception if you provide the special 25-character passcode,” the computer would remind me.

“But I’ve forgotten it.”

“Then get your feet off the couch.”

I would not obey the Dropcam, and wouldn’t expect my dog to, either.

It is, after all, our home. And as living, breathing, thinking creatures, we are in charge, not the machines — at least up until the moment the smart home has the telephone call a locksmith to change the locks.

(You can find more of our “Woof  in Advertising” posts — about how marketers use dogs in advertising — here.)