Who makes this pizza?

If there was strategy behind this ad I would say it was rather clever. No brand name–just price and phone number. It almost made me want to pick up the phone to see what pizza brand belonged to this ad.

I wondered: would I then be met by some charismatic seller of this pizza brand that I just couldn’t refuse to order a pizza after 9PM? Or might I call simply to satisfy my curiosity just to hear “Thank you for calling (blank)”–quickly followed by my hang-up.

Whose brand is this?

Call the number and let me know. If you’re tempted.

The first time I saw it was in a German campaign for Mini, followed by a highly-successful campaign by GE.

It’s nice to see that it’s also being put to practical use. It’s still extremely cool.

(hat tip: American Copywriter.)

Wine Cellar (cc*)

I’m a traditionalist in many ways when it comes to wine. I love the ritual of it all – cutting the foil, removing the cork. I insist on using a traditional waiter’s corkscrew (my favorite has a hand-carved oak handle). Pouring the wine to observe the color and identifying the elements in the bouquet. And of course, that first taste. But for all that I love drinking wine, I just couldn’t bring myself to use the wine journal. Why is it that having a wine cellar app on my iPhone has suddenly changed my behavior?

For one thing, I’m a tech geek. So the “oooh cool” factor of being able to do it electronically is appealing. I like that I can actually take a photo of the label, which the program then places on a virtual bottle so it looks kind of like the bottle you were just drinking. But it boils down to two things for me. First, it is really convenient. Since my phone is almost always at hand, it is easy to enter information, and easy to recall information when I’m buying some wine. Second – and perhaps more importantly – it is fun.

As marketers, our job is to change behavior—either from inactivity to activity or from one activity to another. New technologies can help: radio, television, the Internet—all created new ways to drive behavior. And now we have mobile applications. Whether it is as simple as creating a fun way, like the Zippo lighter application on my phone, for your audience to interact with your brand, or a more direct action (like the Chipotle online ordering application).  Each serves a different purpose. I interact more often with my Zippo app (for now, at least), but I do not own a Zippo, nor do I foresee purchasing one. I order food from Chipotle, and the application is a convenient way to do so. But there’s nothing in the application that makes me want to come back before my next burrito bowl craving strikes.

Mobile applications are a very young technology. Clearly they create significant new opportunities for marketers. But for to really take advantage of the incredibly pervasive and persistent nature of the mobile platform, we’ve got to put the fun in functional. And if in doing so you can make people buy something… you’ve got yourself a killer marketing app.

*This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 License. Author, Peter from Wellesle. Wikimedia

Here’s the whole crazy crew of friends and family that did the race.

Now I have to tell you, I’m not much of a runner. But I’ve done a few of these races from time to time. I’ve raised some money, had some fun, ate a Cliff bar and banana or two and collected a few t-shirts. It’s a nice thing–good and good for you. Then I got diagnosed with breast cancer.

I have participated in five races sponsored by Susan G. Komen for the Cure. The last three races have been as a breast cancer survivor, including my latest in New York City on September 13th, 2009. If you have the opportunity to wind your way through Central Park on a beautiful fall morning, I suggest you do it. But I had the opportunity to walk with about 30,000 people. People of every size, shape, race and creed. Old and young, lean and athletic, not-so-lean and even disabled. They came mostly because, somehow, their lives have been touched by breast cancer. I also had the privilege of being joined by a group of friends and family–28 wonderful people who stood beside me and honored all the women in their lives who have faced a breast cancer diagnosis.

As you can imagine, 30,000 people trying to get to one spot in Manhattan at a designated time creates a little bit of chaos. There were people packed quite densely, lining up to start the race, lining up to use the porta-potties, moving like a massive herd of cattle without any cowboys to wrangle. And yet it all seemed to work. Survivors, in full force, defiant and empowered, took up the beginning of the line at the starting gate. This being New York, a compliment of celebrities and politicians entreated the crowd with rousing calls to action and we heard a heartfelt version of the Star Spangled Banner by Cyndi Lauper. I can say with pride that my cousin’s ten-year old daughter moved liquidly through all police barricades to get directly to Ms. Lauper for an autograph, despite not knowing exactly who she is. 1980’s MTV redux, rock on! At the first gun, elite runners take off, because this is still a race after all. Then the survivors, then the seemingly unending waves of people in funny hats, feather boas, capes, and all manner of sporting attire. We wound our way through the park, with onlookers and Sunday strollers and cheerleaders and people-watchers following our progress, 3.2 miles to the terrace above the Bethesda Fountain . The fountain is named for the Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem, which, according to biblical tradition, possesses great healing powers. What a fitting place to cross the finish line in the race for the cure.

It is hard to describe what it means to feel the energy and goodwill of 30,000 people move through you. But I can tell you this much, it makes you feel that you can do anything. It makes you feel that the promise made from one sister to another to find a cure is within our grasp. There is a terrible solidarity in the sea of pink shirts – I often say that this one sorority no one wants to join. But I am in it. And I will walk or run for as long as I am able to show that being a member of this strange sorority is not the end of your life, but the beginning of a new life. One with incredible challenges, to be sure. But also a life with joy and strength and support and love. Even so, all that emotional power is not enough – we must also marshal an army with money. Money for research, for treatment, counseling and support services.

I am alive and well today because of the grassroots power of the Komen Foundation and other organizations like it. So whether the cause is breast cancer or leukemia or multiple sclerosis, there’s a good reason to get out there and walk, run or ride. Your time, your energy and your fundraising mean so much for all the people hoping for a cure. I can’t wait for my next race in Austin on November 1, 2009. If you get to that race or another one, look for me. I’ll be the one in pink.