The sexification of Hush Puppies, shopping carts, and public transit

Retrieved May 7, 2007: Image courtesy of School Clip Art at http://www.school-clip-art.com

What do Hush Puppies, shopping carts, and public transit have in common? At one time or another, all three have endured periods of unpopularity. Beyond the reach of society's "cool" radar, they were considered unhip and anti-sexy. But when all seemed lost, Hush Puppies and shopping carts both found ways to bounce back into public favour, and the public transit authority in Greater Vancouver is currently searching for it's groove. According to a panel I heard talking on the NW98 Bill Good Show, the regions' powers-that-be desperately want people to use transit more. To get the ridership up, these powers are ready to kick down branding barriers and sexify transit. How they will do this I don't now. What I do know is that they have public funding, access to the best PR experts, and a gigantic infrastructure committment. So my question is this: is it possible that a Greater Vancouver transit pass card could become our next big sexy must-have?

Retrieved May 7, 2007: Image courtesy of Wikipedia at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Tipping_Point_(book)

Trippin' about tippin'

In Malcom Gladwell's book "The Tipping Point" (Little Brown, 2000), Gladwell talks about how the Hush Puppies brand went from obscure to outlandish in an amazingly short amount of time. Hush Puppies, the classic American brushed suede shoe, was a dog that had seen it's day. Long past its heyday in the 1970's, Hush Puppies teetered on the abyss in the 1990's. But something magical happened when two guys walked into a Soho store and bought Hush Puppies. Their reason for buying the shoes was exactly because none else would wear them. This unpretentious, almost hostile purchase of Hush Puppies in Soho started a domino effect. Suddenly the shoes repersented rebellion. As the movement quickened, haute coutre got on board and that's when the demand for all things Hush Puppy exploded. As Gladwell puts it, "The shoes passed a a certain point in popularity and they tipped." The fashion industry's clumsy jump onto the band wagon is comical. I would laugh it I didn't see a reflection of myself in this pool. (Lululemon, Tim Hortons, Starbucks, Honda, Coach...Need I say more...I could go on...)

Shop talk

While Hush Puppies demonstrate accidental sexification, shopping carts demonstrate targeted sexification. Yes, the humble shopping cart needed a sexy push to get the concept rolling into public favour. Shopping carts were invented in 1936 by Sylvan Goldman, the owner of an American grocery called the Piggly Wiggly. According to www.ideafinder.com/history/inventions/shopcart.htm, customers avioded the carts at first. Shoppers were content to use a shopping basket on thier arm and not two baskets strapped to a strange wheelie-thingamajig thank-you-very-much. But Goldman had seen the dollar signs; He figured the Piggly Wiggly could make more money if customers would purchase more items per visit. Shopping carts were the answer, but how could he make them attractive? His action was ingeniuos: He hired some male and female models to push the carts around his store while pretending to shop. Customers saw the models using the carts, and gradually the real customers started to also use these new-fangled contraptions. And we all know the outcome. (Cosco, Home Depot, Save On, Ikea...Need I say more...I could go on...)

Nice pass

So how does all this relate to public transit? Well, as I was listening to the Bill Good Show, a news talk radio show on NW98, the panel mentioned the need to sexify the public transit system. In my view, Public transit does not need a facelift -- how glam can a bus ride really be -- it needs a brand lift. As I said before, how they will do it remains to be seen. One one hand, like Hush Puppies, transit might beome a rebellious icon of a teen or twentysomething (ONTRNZT CAAC CUL8R) or a personal restraint symbol of a thirtysomething (I organized my life to accommidate transit and I'm taking my knocks for the environment.) On the other hand, like the shopping cart, it might take only a few human decoys that remind us of who we want to be. If who we want to be rides the bus, then we probably will, too. Don't believe me? (Lululemon, Tim Hortons, Starbucks, Honda, Coach, Cosco, Home Depot, Save On, Ikea...Need I say more...I could go on...)

What I learned: The more I learn about the past, the more I can predict the future.

The tale of a male princess: A fairytale for the new millenium

Once upon a time we find a little boy who was a male princess. As a lad his proud and doting parents let him eat ketchup for dinner instead of veggies. He got chauffered to school instead of walking. As the little male princess grew, he insisted on not doing his chores and got his allowance anyway. As a teenager he insisted on a brand new car even though he didn't have a job. He was convinced his sole purpose was to be a male princess. So he swaggered, strutted, primped, and preened his way though life. While his countrymen struggled to pay thier monthly bills he manicured his nails. While his countrymen slept in the streets he bought custom-made monogramed Egyptian linen bath towels. He rarely tipped waiters and never had spare change for charity. After all, he thought, he was royalty.

One day his land was invaded. The male princess, busied with video games and corn chips, was heard to say that he was not worried because he would be protected. After all, he was a male princess, and people would have to protect HIM. His countrymen fought at the coastline, then at the city gates, then at the end of his street. The male princess looked down from his balconey, shivering in his ballcap (the brim cocked to the side, of course.)The male princess bit his pristine nails as he watched the brave soldiers fall. It is said, he kept repeating over and over, "Someone will save me. They must save me!" And he never lifted one of his pretty fingers to help himself.

Many years have passed since that fateful day. Now I hear a different family lives in the house where the male princess once lived. The new family's sons eat their vegtables, walk to school, and work part-time to contribute to the household income. This hardworking family came to live there after the conquest of the new land. They are so grateful to live in such a plentiful and peaceful country. They often talk about their good fortune, and shake thier heads because the previous inhabitant didn't seem to put up much of a
fight for it.

And what happened to the male princess?

He was last seen a couple years back at a gas station on the edge of town. His white ballcap, now torn and filthy, was outstreched in one dirty hand for spare change.

The End.

What I learned: A lack of sleep due to late-night studying may cause a surge in creative writing and not-so-subliminal messaging.

Why I write: A mini-memoir

"Just what is a memoir? It is the story of a significant moment in your life told from a mature, reflective standpoint. Such a moment may center around a person, event, or object that is important to you." University Writing Center website, www.uwc.ucf.edu retrieved March 2, 2007.

So I asked myself this question: why do I write? More specifically, why do I put so much effort into writing? Even now as I write this blog I could have got my point across ages ago. But here I am, fiddling and tweaking, endlessly searching for better words and grammar. I want the perfect words, the perfect sentence, the perfect composition. I could have just plopped down some words and been done with it. The problem appears to not be the words, but the meaning. Not just any words will do. I must find the best words -- the perfect words -- to weave into at tapestry of textual meaning. So I guess the reason I put so much effort into writing is this: I enjoy the challenge of expressing my thoughts on paper.

Writing is an opportunity for me to catch thoughts from my mind and hold them in print. As I think about what I want to write, thoughts jump at me like fish in a pond, and I net the ones I can catch in words.

Retrieved May 7, 2007: Image courtesy of A Perfect World - http://www.aperfectworld.org

My fingers tap the keyboard, and a line of text forms on my computer screen. Every four or five lines I backtrack, making sure my mental translation makes sense. Sometimes my thoughts stop jumping. I know from experience they can't be forced, because thoughts are lured by patience. I review my written words and try to write a nonsence paragraph. Sure enough, a relevant thought casually floats to the surface. It is followed by another, and soon my fingers are jumping across the keyboard as I race to keep up.

When I feel like I have transferred my relevant thoughts into text, I re-read my work. I consider the words and how they build meaning. I pay attention to grammar, but only after I have the meaning down pat. By the time I'm done with it, my writing is usually pretty close to what was in my head at the time.

Some might call this effort after meaning cognitive processing. I simply call it writing.
Writing is a chance for me to capture mental images and hold them in hard copy. I doubt I will ever be satisfied with words that I feel are merely good enough. It appears by my nature I'm doomed to forever chase the perfect prose reflection of my thougts.

What I learned: It's the feeling of satisfaction I get when I see my thoughts appear in print, just as they appeared in my mind. That's why I write.