No Soup for You? Soupy Sales TV Legacy

I was lucky enough to grow up in New Jersey when Soupy Sales, who died yesterday at 83,  was in his heyday. Us high-schoolers rushed home for his antics every day at 4, Saturday as I remember at 6:30 (Saturdays were when the big stars showed up to be pied.)

I loved when he tuned in the radio on the windows sill with the puppet Pookie. It was a pop culture explosion– bits of teen hits of the day, followed by old time radio like The Shadow, The Hindenburg, and audio skits recorded for the radio bit, etc.

The song, “Do the Mouse”  was hilarious, as was the dance, which it was supposed to be– defining “irony” as a form of humor where bad equals good… or something.

When he returned from his suspension (for asking the kiddies to go through their New Year’s Eve hung-over parents clothes for pictures of George Washington) he blasted “Happy Days are Here Again” and showed film of silent movie pie fights, car crashes, etc. for almost five minutes before walking on set.

I did attend his big Soupy Sales Easter show at the Paramount Theater which featured The Hollies, Little Richard (and his guitar player, Jimi Hendrix), and as they say, many others.

Almost every TV show he did– five days a week– was outlined, but not scripted. And for all the hub-bub, he was only on in New York for two years.

But I think his kind of show– outlined, live, adlibbed, supposedly for kiddies, but really for teens who wanted to be treated like adults– was the exit point for the afternoon kiddy show and the entry point for things like SNL and “Fridays”– on the air barely ten years later. Letterman and Conan followed.

Just more proof that creativity is a continuum. Thanks, Soupy.

D-Day for Mercury Marine? Video as Corporate Culture

I was privileged to produce Mercury Marine’s 50th Anniversary video 20 years ago. It was a celebration of an entrepreneur’s vision,  a company’s impact on society, and, in much subtler ways, it’s impact on its surroundings– Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.

The local impact– on employment, community growth, local pride, freshwater recreation heritage– was never pointed out directly. It was there in the amazing visual documentation founder Carl Kiekhafer left behind of his surroundings through 16mm film and pictures. Mercury’s founding in Cedarburg. It’s purchase of the Coriam Farm in Fond du Lac to be the home of it’s amazing growth. It’s incredible impact on watersports, including Tommy Bartlett’s Water Show in the Dells. The national dealer celebrations Mercury hosted in Wisconsin.

I write this because today (Sunday, August 23, 2009) Mercury’s union rank and file will vote on whether to accept concessions in order to keep Mercury’s headquarters and plants in Wisconsin.

I don’t have a bone to pick or a dog in the fight. What I do know is this video demonstrates the incredible impact Mercury’s corporate culture has had on Wisconsin. To see it go the way of so many other corporations that have left, merged, been bought, or otherwise disappeared from the scene would be a distraught moment indeed.

We have short memories, and more and more companies seem to want to forget their past. The man who hired me for the Mercury gig, Ed Huck, often said “What’s past is prologue.” But what prologue is there if you ignore your past?

Here in slightly shortened form, is “50 Years of Leadership.”

The Death of Local Arts Reporting in Milwaukee?

According to the Milwaukee Business Journal, the people that will take the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel’s latest buyout offer include broadcast media columnist Tim Cuprisin, theater critic Damien Jaques, books editor Geeta Sharma-Jensen, education reporter Alan Borsuk, pop music writer Dave Tianen, music/dance writer Tom Strini and business columnist Tannette Johnson-Elie.

Most are arts writers. All, including Johnson-Elie, who chronicled new business and minority business stories, and Borsuk, on Milwaukee’s volatile local education scene, can be considered important local-oriented reporters, whose detailed reporting on the arts, media, education, and small business gave an important and influential segment of the paper’s readership something to look forward to.

Jaques is a legendary name in Journalism circles. His father was a journalist, and Damien has been consistently and devotedly reporting on the arts for most of his career. Cuprisin brought new life to the TV-Radio section, following on the heels of early Sentinel efforts by Chris Stoehr and others, and always emphasizing the local ups and downs of Milwaukee’s broadcast media.

Sharma-Jensen, Tianen, Strini,  Borsuk, and Johnson-Elie owned their niches, and one wonders if they will even be replaced, or whether their activities will be merged into a one or two “combo” positions, echoing what happened to architecture reporting after Whitney Gould left.

I’m guessing the Journal-Sentinel will be happy to pay for freelance reviews. But behind-the-scenes analysis? Maybe not so much.

You can’t argue with the economics of the newspaper world. But you can argue with a medium giving up it’s unique selling proposition (USP). Local, local, local is what makes a newspaper or on-line publication different.

When big city papers started trying to be USA TODAY, their soul started to evaporate. You can read about Michael Jackson anywhere. What’s in the offing for the Milwaukee Rep, Symphony, Ballet, and so many more institutions, now that their  important voices are gone?

The Journal-Sentinel has yet to announce replacements.

Just Because You Don’t Get It, Doesn’t Mean You Shouldn’t Get It.

I admit it. Despite being an early adopter of the web (I’ve had the same url’s since the mid-90′s) I misread a couple of things.

I didn’t think information could come in spurts as short as a tweet. I forgot about something called telegrams.

I didn’t think about the web as a social place. Yet I’m as old as Walt Mossberg and used to hang out in the same “forums” on Compuserve and The Source.

And I didn’t see it as the ultimate distribution tool for video…. well, I did, but I didn’t expect it to kill off DVD’s and cd-roms. Now we urge our clients to create video just for the web– video that doesn’t even have to go “viral” to do the job. Just find your niche.

A lot of potential users of video on the web don’t get it, so they don’t use it.  They can’t understand the technology, or can’t envision a world beyond cable TV, DVD, or even giant sales meetings. And a good video might cost the same as a basic website, so they put the horse before the cart. These days, you need both– they are synergistic beyond belief.

So you’ve got to believe in the potential of what you don’t know– even if you can’t see what’s in front of your nose.

You can’t be aware of everything. But you can rely on the expertise and experience of good consultants to help point you in the right direction.

Brien Lee (that’s Brien with an “e”, in case you want to call or write. Really, we can see the future– we think.)

Video Viewing for a Happy July 4th (Part 2)

Video Viewing for a Happy July 4th (Part 1)

Ed McMahon Taught Me How to Write

When Ric Sorgel and I started Sorgel-Lee in 1972, we didn’t have to worry about voice-over announcers. Our first few jobs were interview style arts slide shows. Point the microphone, ask questions, get answers, edit it into a documentary continuity.

But in the summer of that year, we were asked by Ric’s friend Mike Kiefer (with some influence from Ric’s Dad) if we’d like to produce a slide show touting their company, Kiefer Corporation. A real corporate project! Kiefer sold commercial kitchen impliments and did custom stainless steel fabrication, and they wanted something to show at a trade show.

The answer was yes, the budget cheap, and I had my first real script to write. No relying on other people’s voices, this had to be written for a narrator. And since the budget was cheap, we couldn’t afford– and for that matter, didn’t know– an announcer.

My job was to write the script and produce the soundtrack to which the slides would be edited. And, I agreed, I would read the narration as well.

From an entrepreneurial standpoint, this was perhaps the critical moment in my development as an audio-visual person. My first script, my first narrative soundtrack, and my first (and I hoped, only) voice-over read. How I handled the assignment would define our house style for years to come.

I was a mimic in those days. I did impressions of Ed Sullivan, Jack Benny, George Burns, Kirk Douglas, Johnny Carson…. wait! Johnny Carson, Johnny Carson… Ed McMahon!  Budweiser. Clydesdales. Tonight Show Commercial Reader. Ed McMahon was the answer.

Short sentences, a good theme line, a low key personable approach. Ed McMahon didn’t write what he read, but he made it sound like it. I worked on the script, maybe 3 or 4 pages,  and I remember the final line– it was a direct rip-off of some Budweiser commercial read by McMahon:

” Kiefer Corporation. All… You’ll ever need.”

No explanatories, like “This is Kiefer Corporation, your leader in kitchenware.” No verbs. No complete sentences— and a dot dot dot to guarantee the pause in the right place. Hell, even I could read that, it was so clean.

Which I did. We lived in a one bedroom apartment which was distinguished by the fact that it had one closet for the entire apartment, in the back corner of what passed for a living room.

In that closet was all our earthly possessions, which, given that this was Wisconsin, included a bunch of winter coats. I set up my tape recorder outside the closet, fished the mike cable under the door, attached the Shure SM57 microphone, started the tape recorder and closed the door. I stood in between the coats to insure no reverb or reflections, and also to help give some bass boost to my voice. And I read. And reread. Until I could hear Ed McMahon.

I never read professionally again, but what I had done that day worked beautifully. It helped me define the words I would write, the music I would use, the style of our shows, and the pace of our shows.

It made us a real company, with a real industrial demo to show. It helped put us on the map.

Thanks, Ed McMahon. Your were all we ever needed.

Swine Flu 2: Electric Boogaloo (more spots)

Here’s a few more samples of the spots we did for the 1976 Swine Flu panic (actually an album of all three) from our Vimeo album.

Tribute Example 1: Family History

This family history DVD  was created as a Christmas gift from parents to their sons and daughter and their childrens’ children. What an amazing and thoughtful gift. While it preserves photos and especially 8mm films that had not been seen in decades, the larger story is the interviews from the parents that pepper the story. This excerpt hopefully will give you the flavor of a compelling, lasting keepsake not possible in any other way.

Gasoline Alley born in Tomah, Wisconsin, 90 Years Ago

My favorite comic strip, Gasoline Alley, was born 90 years ago in the pages of the Chicago Tribune.

Gasoline Alley was a weekly panel about a bunch of guys talking cars until the owner of the Tribune, Colonel McCormack, decreed that a baby be added to the strip to boost female readership.

Since the star of the strip, Walt Wallet, was single, a baby was left on his doorstep– and thus began the central story of America's longest running "continuity" strip.

Frank King was a visionary. His daily strips followed the growth of "Uncle Walt" and Skeezix– the baby– from charming toddler to World War II soldier to father and grandfather. (Which makes Walt, at last count, around 108. Really!)

His Sunday strips were an artistic tourdeforce– the giant full page color spreads were a canvas of daydreams, near psychedelia, and inner working of the child's mind.

The Sundays were at their best in the 1930's.

The dailies were at their best in the 1960's and 1970's under the guidance of King's successor Dick Moores. They are continued faithfully (the family still aging) by Jim Scancarelli.

For more on Gasoline Alley, and a look at today's birthday Sunday strip, go to GOCOMICS.