Wednesday, December 15, 2004
The Cottesloe Think Tank. On Monday night, Gemma and I went to Cottesloe beach, haven of nubile backpackers and sharks. Gemma swam while I read Urban Hitz magazine. Then we went and got dinner: fish and chips and peppermint flavoured milk for Gemma; Coke and a burger with the lot for me. The beach was floodlit, so we sat on the grass and talked shit and watched the backpackers frolic.
Gemma was planning to buy Adam a box of chocolates as a thankyou for all his help with her crashed computer situation during the conference.
I said, "Are you going to buy Cadbury Roses?"
Gemma said no, because that was too much of a cliche.
Then I started thinking how crazy it was that giving Roses had come to be a cliche, and how brilliant it was that whatever ad agency did that famous Cadbury Roses campaign had managed to insert the product as the 'top of mind' for a particular purpose (thankyou gifts).
Then we started laughing at how silly the campaign itself was. Gemma's favourite part was "Thankyou very much for doing the dishes/Thankyou very much just for being my missus". My favourite part was when a pack of cub scouts gave it to their leader while a huge banner unfurled reading: "Thankyou Akela".
Then we started thinking about some potential modern situations in which you could give Roses as a thankyou present. Here are some of the lines we brainstormed:
"Thankyou very much for making 'em larger" (a busty woman gives them to her plastic surgeon after her boob job)
"Thankyou very much for not pressing charges" (a sleazy male boss gives them to the same woman, staring at her tits the whole time)
"Thankyou very much for the whips and handcuffs" (a leather-clad gimp gives them to the guy behind the counter in the fetish shop)
"Thankyou very much for waxing my man-muff" (the fetish guy gives them to his beautician)
I was extremely proud of the expression "man-muff" and am determined to use it a lot from now on.
We left to go to the train station (I'm thinking the manslave would love to hear my considered verdict on the Perth public transport system, but I'll save that for when I get home...) and on the way, we saw a poster for the new Phantom of the Opera movie. Or, should I say, Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. I loved that musical as a child - we had the original London cast recording, with Michael "oooh Betty" Crawford as the Phantom, and I used to know the entire first act off by heart, and sing it to myself in the varying voices. Maybe if I'd seen Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em I'd have got a foretaste of how naff it was.
But I reckon most people loved Andrew Lloyd Webber when they were kids, with varying degrees of secrecy. Which brings me to the brilliant plan Gemma and I cooked up for a computer-animated film version of Cats. You could make it arch enough to be bearable to parents who want to disavow Andrew Lloyd Webber (and I mean, the text is explosive with potential silliness: I mean, cats called Rum-Tum-Tugger and Skimbleshanks!).
And the animation would be really great now that Garfield has shown we have the technology to make realistic-looking furry creatures. You could have some great set-pieces. The kids would really dig it, I reckon. It would certainly have to be better than adults dressed in really shithouse cat outfits, poncing about and clawing at the air with their fingers. It's a mystery to me how such a ridiculous show could have played Broadway for decades.
Gemma was planning to buy Adam a box of chocolates as a thankyou for all his help with her crashed computer situation during the conference.
I said, "Are you going to buy Cadbury Roses?"
Gemma said no, because that was too much of a cliche.
Then I started thinking how crazy it was that giving Roses had come to be a cliche, and how brilliant it was that whatever ad agency did that famous Cadbury Roses campaign had managed to insert the product as the 'top of mind' for a particular purpose (thankyou gifts).
Then we started laughing at how silly the campaign itself was. Gemma's favourite part was "Thankyou very much for doing the dishes/Thankyou very much just for being my missus". My favourite part was when a pack of cub scouts gave it to their leader while a huge banner unfurled reading: "Thankyou Akela".
Then we started thinking about some potential modern situations in which you could give Roses as a thankyou present. Here are some of the lines we brainstormed:
"Thankyou very much for making 'em larger" (a busty woman gives them to her plastic surgeon after her boob job)
"Thankyou very much for not pressing charges" (a sleazy male boss gives them to the same woman, staring at her tits the whole time)
"Thankyou very much for the whips and handcuffs" (a leather-clad gimp gives them to the guy behind the counter in the fetish shop)
"Thankyou very much for waxing my man-muff" (the fetish guy gives them to his beautician)
I was extremely proud of the expression "man-muff" and am determined to use it a lot from now on.
We left to go to the train station (I'm thinking the manslave would love to hear my considered verdict on the Perth public transport system, but I'll save that for when I get home...) and on the way, we saw a poster for the new Phantom of the Opera movie. Or, should I say, Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. I loved that musical as a child - we had the original London cast recording, with Michael "oooh Betty" Crawford as the Phantom, and I used to know the entire first act off by heart, and sing it to myself in the varying voices. Maybe if I'd seen Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em I'd have got a foretaste of how naff it was.
But I reckon most people loved Andrew Lloyd Webber when they were kids, with varying degrees of secrecy. Which brings me to the brilliant plan Gemma and I cooked up for a computer-animated film version of Cats. You could make it arch enough to be bearable to parents who want to disavow Andrew Lloyd Webber (and I mean, the text is explosive with potential silliness: I mean, cats called Rum-Tum-Tugger and Skimbleshanks!).
And the animation would be really great now that Garfield has shown we have the technology to make realistic-looking furry creatures. You could have some great set-pieces. The kids would really dig it, I reckon. It would certainly have to be better than adults dressed in really shithouse cat outfits, poncing about and clawing at the air with their fingers. It's a mystery to me how such a ridiculous show could have played Broadway for decades.
