Call you “Old Fashioned.” You can take it.
“Folksie?” “Provincial?” Maybe.
You know who you are, and don’t need some Metropolitan Marketing Guru to slap some label on you. But, one thing’s for sure. They can’t call you Cookie Cutter. And no one dare to call you CORPORATE.
What happened to Tom’s Farms? They upgraded to Tasteless Glossy from Rustic Charm.
I’m feeling lost. My neighborhood Shade-Tree mechanic got so busy that he burned out and sold out to some guy who picked up his list of clients, and then (likely) promptly lost all but the few fleets of vehicles already under contract. I guess if you’re responsible for a fleet of cars and trucks, you’re not looking for the personal touch. You’re looking at “the bottom line” because you’re dealing in bulk. But, few of the local homesteaders were eager to suffer the transition. The reason is obvious, of course. Trust. Can’t sell that. Read more…
“Dreamer. You know you are a Dreamer. But can you put your hands in your head? Oh, no!”
It’s not too late to go back and re-discover the penultimate Progressive French-Canadian Rock Band of the latter 20th Century, SUPERTRAMP.
Granted, that’s not necessarily a cavernous niche of a musical genre. I guess when someone nails it so precisely the first time, any followers who might seek to capitalize on the trailblazers’ success could likely find themselves disqualifyingly deficient in the ability to synthesize such talent, vision, and sensitivity. Indeed, the question begs to be answered…Can you put your hands in your head?
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13
Oct
Author: admin | Category:
Graphics,
Imagery Member
Okay. So, you thought you were going to save a few bucks. It’s understandable.
You wanted the Hot New Web Technology to Market your Wares, and here was this brand new College Grad. Sure, he probably spent the last few years happy to sleep on a mattress and bedspring splayed on the floor of his campus-close apartment. Sure, his carpet was littered with weeks-old discarded cans of off-brand energy drinks and empty dehydrated-noodle packages. It was all good to him, though, ’cause he never even noticed the scattered clutter. Bro was laser-focused on his computer screen all through the night. Battling demons. Slaying Cyber-Commies on the other side of the globe in World of Warcraft or SOCOM. Wicked! Holmes…I own you!
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