Introducing a Smug Pig, a Happy Horse – and Monika
I’ll come to the animals in a minute, but first, what time do you wake up?
A couple of weeks ago I spent a night in London at the Hilton as I had to do a day’s training the next day.
I rose at 4.30 to have a bit of a worry looked out of the window and got a splendid view of London’s Victoria station.
I then spent ten minutes vainly seeking a kettle. Eventually I found it, carefully hidden away. There were no tea-bags, so I rang for some.
Monika, on reception said “There should be.”
I said, “Well, there aren’t.”
So she brought me some, as she was doing her rounds with the newspapers.
When I checked in the night before they gave me a welcome cookie, which I didn’t need, and told me I had to pay for breakfast.
They also told me it would be cheaper to book the breakfast then than if I waited till morning. And that if I wanted wifi it was extra.
From all that I learned the following:
The people who run the Hilton are good at meaningless gestures like giving me a cookie just after I’ve had dinner and finding ways to make extra money. But they are not so hot at basics – the brand new shower sprayed on the bathroom floor. There were no tea bags – and why should I pay for wifi?
On balance I decided that Monika – who like a lot of other excellent people here is from Poland – is a lot more use than they are.
But they are the quintessence of competence compared to the grasping clods who run First Great Western, whose trains I am forced to catch every time I come to London.
The customer is always wrong
On Sunday I arrived at the station to find the 4.30 train advertised on the internet was not running. I was just in time to see the 4.20, which was not advertised, vanishing.
I spoke to a porter who gave a whole lot less than a hoot in hell. He just pointed at the illuminated departures sign and said “That’s the correct time.”
I then went to look at the printed times.
He saw me and strolled over.
I showed him. It said 4.30.
He said, not looking properly, but with a suitable degree of patronising contempt, “It’s Sunday” – assuming I had the day wrong.
I said, “I know what day it is” – so he could see that I was right.
He still didn’t give a flying f**k, and repeated: “Those are the right times” – pointing at the sign again.
To say he was obnoxious is an understatement
I then took his picture, and said “You’ll be all over the Internet tomorrow, pal.”
That got his attention. He said: “You can’t do that. Come with me and talk to the Railway police.”
I won’t bore you with the rest – and unfortunately the picture was blurred. But he did get the police – and you may wonder what the hell that yowl of complaint has to do with pigs and horses.
Railways and advertising archaeology
Well, when I first came to London to seek my fortune, I was a copy group head at Leo Burnett.
While there I met Draper Daniels – one of the Great Men of advertising – and saw him do a presentation.
He wrote the ad that made Marlboro the world’s biggest cigarette brand. You can see it in a book called The 100 Greatest Advertisements.
He also wrote an ad featuring a cartoon pig headed “A HOG can cross the country without changing trains, but YOU can’t”. It was all about the crazy way the railroads used to be run in the U.S. – and it changed things.
That ad came to mind as I reflected on the crazy way they are run here.
Why doesn’t the porter in Bristol give a hoot? Because the smug, overpaid, incompetent pricks who run what we sufferers call Last Great Western have a monopoly on the line.
That is because of the way the smug incompetent pricks who ran what we sufferers then called the United Kingdom privatised the wholesale mess we then called British Rail.
The First Great Western wankers can’t even be bothered to tell their staff where their wages come from.
And – I’m finally getting to the point – why did I mention the horse?
Because those old ads have lessons to teach about what works and what doesn’t in advertising.
Another is headed “My friend Joe Holmes is now a horse” – and features a cartoon horse.
Believe it or not it was to sell Arrow shirts – which it did brilliantly.
I analysed that ad last month – and three others – in some detail for the benefit of anyone who wants to know how to create advertising that actually makes things happen.
Most people have no idea, so they waste money they can ill-afford.
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And do you know anyone else who can show you why cartoon pigs and happy horses make money?
