What exactly went on during the creative meeting that resulted in this commercial?
My take on it: The meeting to brainstorm this commercial took place on the south side of the 22nd floor of the tall building that stands at 233 North Michigan Ave. in Chicago. Though I work on the 20th floor of this particular building, I am sure the meeting that led to this phallic hot dog bitch-slapping this guy in the face - leaving creamy mustard evidence - must have taken place on a Friday afternoon two floors above my cube.
First of all, nothing productive happens on a Friday afternoon, as everyone is already mentally checked out, getting slap-happy, and daydreaming about their upcoming golf outing/date/dinner reservations, etc. The bunny mass was invented in my office on a Friday afternoon. (So how can we list each of these animals’ weights in a fun and engaging manner? … I know! Let’s calculate how many bunnies it would take to equal the weight of every animal! We can call it “bunny mass!”) Need I say more?
And although I have a pretty good view of it from two floors down, the hardworking TUMS folks on the 22nd floor have an eye-level view of the happy penis drawing that greets me every morning from the window of the building adjacent to mine with a simple, yet cheerful “hi”.
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Now I know how much the penis drawing amuses my colleagues and I. We enjoy pointing it out to other colleagues, marvel about how it’s “the happiest organ ever,” and brainstorm about how to respond (since my entire department is female, we have overwhelmingly decided cheerful boobs would be the most appropriate response to the happy penis).
Therefore, on the Friday afternoon when the TUMS employees were grumbling over who the hell thought it was OK to schedule a meeting on a Friday afternoon, all they were thinking about was what they needed to throw out that would cause the bigwigs to throw open the gates and free them for their weekend plans.
Humor. Though it’s a difficult genre to do right, it’s also the most welcoming and the most rewarding (hence the non-gendered, yet smart cyborg with three arms that I drew with green and pink markers at a meeting today with not only both of my bosses, but the president of the company and representative from our parent company to illustrate what I think World Book the person would look like. My pathetic excuse for a robot drawing did get a big laugh from the 40 people in the room, though. Mission accomplished.)
So humor is the genre and since it’s Friday afternoon and the creative juices of the TUMS employees goes on their weekends early – leaving it physically impossible to craft new ideas - they don’t have much choice other than to pull a Brick Tamland in Anchorman and throw out ideas from what they can see. (“I think carpet.” … “What about lamp?”)
This is the point where one employee gazing out the window wishing it was 5 o’clock already spots the penis poster and says “What about a peni – err… uhh – hot dog? We can feature a hot dog!”
The boss says “go on,” and the employee scrambles to come up with something that will just get her out of the hot seat and immediately thinks “Ummm carnival! There are hot dogs at a carnival!” And since she’s still looking at the penis that is so happy and funny and makes everyone’s day brighter, and is well into the throes of Friday afternoon slap-happiness, she begins to describe a slap-happy hot dog designed to sell heartburn medicine.
And since it’s Friday afternoon and there is an actual idea on the table, everyone enthusiastically agrees that it’s a great one because really what else do they have? “I love lamp… buy TUMS?” A slap-happy hot dog smeared with mustard is such a better idea than that.
Now let’s get out and enjoy the sunshine.
First of all, nothing productive happens on a Friday afternoon, as everyone is already mentally checked out, getting slap-happy, and daydreaming about their upcoming golf outing/date/dinner reservations, etc. The bunny mass was invented in my office on a Friday afternoon. (So how can we list each of these animals’ weights in a fun and engaging manner? … I know! Let’s calculate how many bunnies it would take to equal the weight of every animal! We can call it “bunny mass!”) Need I say more?
And although I have a pretty good view of it from two floors down, the hardworking TUMS folks on the 22nd floor have an eye-level view of the happy penis drawing that greets me every morning from the window of the building adjacent to mine with a simple, yet cheerful “hi”.
Now I know how much the penis drawing amuses my colleagues and I. We enjoy pointing it out to other colleagues, marvel about how it’s “the happiest organ ever,” and brainstorm about how to respond (since my entire department is female, we have overwhelmingly decided cheerful boobs would be the most appropriate response to the happy penis).
Therefore, on the Friday afternoon when the TUMS employees were grumbling over who the hell thought it was OK to schedule a meeting on a Friday afternoon, all they were thinking about was what they needed to throw out that would cause the bigwigs to throw open the gates and free them for their weekend plans.
Humor. Though it’s a difficult genre to do right, it’s also the most welcoming and the most rewarding (hence the non-gendered, yet smart cyborg with three arms that I drew with green and pink markers at a meeting today with not only both of my bosses, but the president of the company and representative from our parent company to illustrate what I think World Book the person would look like. My pathetic excuse for a robot drawing did get a big laugh from the 40 people in the room, though. Mission accomplished.)
So humor is the genre and since it’s Friday afternoon and the creative juices of the TUMS employees goes on their weekends early – leaving it physically impossible to craft new ideas - they don’t have much choice other than to pull a Brick Tamland in Anchorman and throw out ideas from what they can see. (“I think carpet.” … “What about lamp?”)
This is the point where one employee gazing out the window wishing it was 5 o’clock already spots the penis poster and says “What about a peni – err… uhh – hot dog? We can feature a hot dog!”
The boss says “go on,” and the employee scrambles to come up with something that will just get her out of the hot seat and immediately thinks “Ummm carnival! There are hot dogs at a carnival!” And since she’s still looking at the penis that is so happy and funny and makes everyone’s day brighter, and is well into the throes of Friday afternoon slap-happiness, she begins to describe a slap-happy hot dog designed to sell heartburn medicine.
And since it’s Friday afternoon and there is an actual idea on the table, everyone enthusiastically agrees that it’s a great one because really what else do they have? “I love lamp… buy TUMS?” A slap-happy hot dog smeared with mustard is such a better idea than that.
Now let’s get out and enjoy the sunshine.
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