I’m assuming by now that you know LeBron James is prepared to make an important announcement. Lucky for us, King James has saw fit to share the potentially universe-changing news with his loyal subjects tonight, live on ESPN. In what the network is calling, “The Decision,” the reigning two-time NBA MVP will finally put to rest years of speculation about his future. Where will he play? Who will he play with? It all ends tonight.

Several franchises have dismantled their rosters, essentially mortgaging their futures and ran the risk of forever alienating their fan bases for this very day. With absolutely no guarantees – just hope. Hope that a twenty-five year old James can do his best Moses impersonation and lead their clubs out of the basketball wilderness. Not only to championships, but a bounty of off the court benefits as well.

Members of the media have been willing participants in perpetuating the LeBronathon. Sports Illustrated has a site dedicated to the watch. Countless rumors have popped up on a daily basis. When it became known late Tuesday afternoon that James had finally created his long anticipated twitter account, reports stated that he gained upwards of 89,000 followers in a hour!

This, for lack of a better word has officially become a thing. A spectacle that would have made P.T. Barnum smile. I know folks who don’t care about sports in the least who have rearranged their plans to watch this announcement.

I must admit, I’m sad to see it all end. I never thought of myself as a big fan of reality TV, but I’m definitely going to watch tonight. Until recently, I wasn’t heavily involved with Twitter, but the during the last week I’ve been checking tweets every half hour. LeBron and his handlers have banked on the fact that there are a ton of people like me.

Who, not so secretly are eating all of this stuff up. We feign outrage with what he’s putting us through. We claim to be disgusted with his out-of-control ego, but actually I think we’re in love with it. This thing is no different than watching the finale of the Bachelor or American Idol. It’s an event, and we Americans love an event. No matter how vapid it may be.

photo provided by the Associated Press

Why? It’s not because NCAA players are better…they aren’t. It’s because NCAA games are unpredictable. Every year, the tournament features scores of shocking upsets and unknown players who become “names” overnight – if only for a week or two. The fact that those Cinderella teams and players might never be particularly famous in the long term doesn’t matter to the popularity of the event or its TV appeal. The event and the game are bigger than the stars.

The NBA, on the other hand, heavily promotes individual players, on the theory that people pay to see stars, not necessarily teams. Call it the Michael Jordan effect. This star-oriented approach goes beyond marketing; it has long been understood that referees give big name players preferential treatment. Thus, A-listers like Kobe Bryant and LeBron James consistently have great games, their teams consistently win and they become consistently big draws…or so the thinking goes. While the star system is certainly a tried-and-true formula, I think a lot of fans see it for what it is and are turned off – and are turning their TV sets off as well. To a cynic like me, it’s almost like watching professional wrestling. The NBA’s caste system is particularly annoying if you are a fan of a “no-star” team in a small market city. In effect, the stars have become bigger than the game.

My pipedream du jour would be for Commissioner David Stern to reprioritize the NBA’s approach and once again make the game bigger than the stars. Let surprising new up-and-comers (like the Milwaukee Bucks’ Brandon Jennings and John Salmons) get the same treatment as Kobe, LeBron, DWade and the other marquee names. If that leads to upsets, all the better. That’s exactly why the NCAA tournament became known as “March Madness.” The NBA, too, could be awesome, baby!

I work in advertising, and with the annual buzz about the Super Bowl, you’d think my main topic of conversation would have been Super Bowl advertisements. Instead I found myself thinking, as I do every year ‘round the Super Bowl, that Vince Lombardi was a back-stabbing traitor. Many of my friends have pointed out, rightly so, that when a man leaves his long-time team, he is to be immediately and permanently ostracized. Vince Lombardi was a shining example of this.

Now hold on Packers fans, I know what you are going to say, “Lombardi took a previously dismal Packers team and brought them years of success and glory and BLAH, BLAH, BLAH.” The simple fact of the matter is that Vince Lombardi decided to retire and … wait for it… come back to join a different NFL team! Do you believe this guy??!! Look, buddy, retirement means RETIREMENT. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but in my mind: Legacy ruined. Way to go, Vince, you could have been a Packers legend respected by football fans the world over, but you had to disgrace your legacy by joining another organization. No wonder the name Lombardi is now synonymous with indecision and selfishness.

Now you’re probably thinking, “Come on, Garth. Packers fans are bigger than that. Time heals all wounds and eventually history will remember Vince Lombardi for his love of the game, passion for winning, and dedicated service to the Packers.” That’s all well and good, but look what happens when a guy like Reggie White (remember this joker?) retires and later comes back to play for the Carolina Panthers. Ouch! You can’t speak the name Reggie White within 50 miles of Green Bay without getting a cold, dirty stare. Serves you right, traitor.

Look, history repeats itself, Vince, and you should have learned your lesson from another legacy-destroying Judas: a guy by the name of Curly Lambeau. This guy firmly cemented his place in Packers infamy when he unceremoniously left Green Bay after a long and ugly dispute with the Packers front office. After taking off in a huff, the guy had the gall go on and coach TWO different NFL teams. Harsh! Now granted, Lambeau did refuse to ever return to Green Bay and wished to be permanently dissociated with the Packers, so it’s no surprise that his name is roughly equivalent to that of Beelzebub around these parts, but his shattered rep should have taught you something, Vince. Packers fans don’t forgive turncoats. Period.

So say what you want about Lombardi, I think history has already spoken. They don’t make statues for traitors, streets don’t get named after deserters, and stadiums don’t bear the names of those who betray their city. It’s too bad Lombardi never got the chance to bring the Redskins to Green Bay to get the resounding chorus of boos he deserved. If I were around back then, I’d be in the front row with my new t-shirt, reading, “We’ll never forget you, Vance.”

While there’s been a ton of debate about Royal Caribbean’s cruise ships resuming visits to Haiti, a bigger Haiti-related PR blunder might just have been made by the Glad brand of garbage bags. Two nights ago, while watching a network newscast filled with reports from the earthquake-ravaged island, I caught a spot for Glad’s ForceFlex garbage bags. The ad, which centers around two kids doing an Olympic-style judging of garbage bags, includes two shots of their parents throwing away totally uneaten plates of meatloaf and vegetables.

Perhaps in a different viewing environment, the spot would come off as cute, but viewed immediately after news footage of Haitians starving and fighting over food drops, it seemed shockingly crass. Even more amazingly, when I flipped the channel, the spot was running almost simultaneously on a different network newscast.

Given today’s harsh realities of rampant unemployment and near-empty food pantries, this creative concept seems questionable enough…but to be running a “roadblock” media buy during newscasts dominated by scenes of starvation? C’mon! How much more tone-deaf could Glad be? Sure, the Haiti crisis may have boosted news ratings that day, but shouldn’t the buyers have taken a little more nuanced view?

Admittedly, I’m a cheapskate who routinely eats leftovers. But I’m willing to bet I wasn’t the only one grossed out by that ad…and contemplating a possible switch from Glad to a less expensive brand of garbage bag. After all, the money saved could be used to send some meatloaf to Haiti.

This morning, the NFL announced a ban on players striking a pose similar to the pirate on the Captain Morgan rum label. The issue came up Sunday after Brent Celek of the Philadelphia Eagles “Did a Captain” after catching a TD pass on a nationally televised game against the Cowboys. Despite Celek’s post-game denials, league officials smelled something fishy…and soon found out that a wider guerilla campaign had indeed been planned, which would have paid $10,000 to the Gridiron Greats Assistance Fund for every time a player was caught on camera doing the pose. As predictable as the league’s ban was the mainstream media’s reporting of it – most of which took a chuckling, “too bad, nice try” attitude toward Captain Morgan.

But I’m beginning to think it’s the Captain who’s having the last laugh.

A quick Google search turned up coverage everywhere from AP and Yahoo to USA Today and virtually every major newspaper in the country – and that’s just on the first day! While the campaign certainly might have gained some steam and generated buzz if left to run its course, it’s highly doubtful the exposure would have been more than what Captain Morgan has already gotten due to the ban announcement. Plus, the brand’s financial exposure just became tremendously less – the $10,000 donations were slated to increase to $25,000 during playoff games and eventually to $100,000 during the Super Bowl. Now they’re not on the line for any of that. However, Captain Morgan will still get public acclaim for being willing to donate to such a worthy cause. As most (rum-drinking) football fans know, the NFL’s treatment of its retired players is nothing short of scandalous, and the Gridiron Greats charity was created to help raise money for those players. Who wouldn’t support that?

Clearly, this was a no-lose scenario for Captain Morgan. If the guerilla campaign had played out, they’d have gotten millions of dollars of brand-consistent exposure (NFL stars mimicking the muy macho Captain’s swashbuckling pose – perfect!) as well as great feel-good PR for financially supporting aging, and in many cases disabled, ex-NFL players. On the other hand, if the campaign got squashed (as they must have anticipated) they still got millions of dollars of brand-consistent exposure and feel-good PR props related to the Gridiron Greats charity – all without the potentially huge charitable contribution. It’s genius.

What do you think? Personally, I’m applauding. And while I much prefer Myers or Mount Gay, I think there’s a Captain ‘n Coke sailing toward me on tonight’s horizon…

With all apologies to Twitter, I firmly believe the best way to connect with a journalist is to meet ‘em in person. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done because most journalists are overworked, always on deadline and naturally reclusive, skeptical types (who often refer to us PR folks as working on the “dark side” of journalism).

To address this problem, many professional organizations routinely hold meet-the-media events. They are set-up like mini-trade shows, with the flacks standing in booths chatting (hopefully) with the hacks circulating throughout. While this format sounds good in theory, in practice its effectiveness varies wildly. As with tradeshows, it’s easy for certain booths to monopolize attention, while others languish (regardless of their mint bowls). The “A-List” journalists in attendance are usually there out of obligation, not interest, and are simply going through the motions – if they show at all. More common are freelancers and bloggers trolling for free schwag or junkets, as well as pay-for-play cable and syndicated show producers (the ultimate bottom-feeders on the journalism food chain).

Not all meet-the-media events are lame, though. I’ve attended several good ones, including the recent Holiday Lookbook event in Manhattan. As per usual, the paying customers – PR people like me – were delivered a wide selection of freelancers, Web site editors and bloggers of varying influence. But there were just enough national-level media to make the event interesting, and the theme – holiday gift ideas – helped all parties, hack and flack alike. Also, the products were classified into topical categories, the best of which (“green” products) fit one of my clients nicely.

So what’s the take-away here? First, I’d suggest closely analyzing how your product or client fits into the overall scheme of the event. It’s not always obvious. Since the New York event’s participants, media and overall vibe were very female-focused, participation by a padlock manufacturer and a line of sports braces would seem counterintuitive, right? In reality, the holiday gift ideas theme worked out well, even with the girly-est of media outlets. As one snooty fashionista editor said, “I personally have no interest in this stuff, but they make great suggestions for our readers to give their husbands and boyfriends.”

Suggestion two: have some fun! After getting only limited conversations in the New York show’s first hour, I began taking on and off my client’s various back and knee braces. Silly? Sure. But people started talking. Then I got the exhibitor next to me – a petite, pretty Asian woman displaying her boutique baby clothing line – to wear the knee brace for a while. That really started conversations. Finally, I chatted up several of the other green product reps and told them about my athletic braces made from recycled materials. We agreed to cross-promote each other, which pushed several more writers my way, all of whom had a specific interest in green products.

The bottom line? While I’m still skeptical of meet-the-media events, I’m starting to accept them as a necessary, albeit flawed tool. Just don’t think a bowl of mints will make them successful.

RANDOM NYC TRAVEL FOOTNOTES:

DINING: Had dinner at a great Italian joint on E. 20th Street, La Pizza Fresca. This narrow trattoria boasts a Tuscan-style brick oven and an inventive menu (including wild boar ragu and spaghetti with duck) but the real eye-opener is the wine list. Owner Brad Bonewell, a reformed ad exec, has a cellar bursting with everything from classic Italian Chiantis and French Bordeaux to cutting-edge California blends, Super Tuscans and other “new school” favorites. I got to try two drop-dead reds: Overture ‘07, a cab-based blend from in Napa and Flaccianello ’06, an intense Tuscan sangiovese.

HOTEL: I stayed at the Hudson Hotel, 356 W. 58th Street. While I was thrown off by its undercover exterior (no sign, no marquee) I loved the ultra-hip interior and my room was more than adequate. Best of all was the price – about $100 less than I was expecting to pay.

TRY EXPENSING THAT: Never before have I seen a beer that cost over $100 a bottle. That changed when I stopped in at L’Express on S. Park Ave., where a particularly rare Belgian Trappist Ale will set you back $110. (I opted for Diet Coke.)

I dig retro. I dig old posters, I dig old t-shirts and I really dig old stereo equipment. I am the guy with the wife who is understandably annoyed at her husband for coming home with old, impractical crap from thrift stores. I am the dude you puzzle at for walking into a record shop purchasing a music format that has been obsolete for 30 years.

But here’s what I’ve discovered. I’m not alone. Lots of people dig retro just like me. Well, maybe not just like me. I don’t expect the rest of the world to start going out and buying up expired Polaroid film (guilty), but retro does have relevance, especially in advertising. From the vintage home-movie treatment on a Coleman camping spot, to the 1960s icons on a Schlitz billboard, we see flashes of the past everywhere we look.

So, why retro? What is it about the past that activates consumers?

The answer, in short, is nostalgia. Nostalgia is more than simply a fondness for the past. It is a longing for an idealized past, filled with fond memories that are void of pain and unhappiness. The nostalgic part of each of us tries to capture some of this idealized past symbolically through material things – a record player, a classic car or a candy bar from our childhood. By using these things to trigger happy memories, we recapture our lost innocence.

What’s fascinating about nostalgia is that in many cases we can feel a longing for something we never experienced first-hand. Young Democrats speak of the Kennedy years with glowing fondness; sports fans cheer their team while wearing throwback jerseys and consumers shop restoration hardware for stuff that was in vogue long before many of them were born. Even in our personal experiences we often filter and romanticize childhood. Truman Capote, whose childhood was fraught with neglect, is famous for writing semi-autobiographical works loaded with wistful nostalgia.

There is safety in the past. We know what to expect and we have control over how we consume it. It does not ask us to predict or keep up. It comforts and reassures – a sentiment particularly relevant to a country dealing with multiple wars, an unstable economy and high unemployment.

So yes, I dig retro. And while the 24-hour news channel droning in the background reiterates the ills of my world, I’ll be here taking respite, blasting a little Zeppelin on vinyl.

Recently, while sitting at the breakfast table awaiting my morning traffic and weather, I once again was assaulted with the thirty seconds of brain-rattling claptrap you deem advertising. I listened. I watched. I have a small suggestion.

Maybe don’t do your own ads anymore.

While I realize that people (yourself included) get a real kick out of seeing your face on TV, and you do “call the shots around there,” your transparent thirst for regional quasi-celebrity is neither doing you, nor your dealership, any favors.

First, your general appearance is not in any way conducive to the television medium. Your dialect is coarse, your movement is clumsy, and your delivery is awkward and ill-paced. Let me also take this opportunity to inform you that I tend to keep my television audio at a reasonable level, so you needn’t shout at me as though I were trackside at a NASCAR race. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your very important message regarding 0% financing on all remaining ’09 models, I do. I would just appreciate it much more without being startled into a Cheerio-splattering recoil.

Second, though I’m certain I will one day be watching your child’s Daytime Emmy acceptance speech, your offspring should probably pass a few more classes at the Julliard School before hawking any more closeout minivans. Also, I’m pretty sure FDR passed laws against stuff like this back in the ‘30s.

Third, consider a minor investment in production quality. Yes, your animated “SALE” burst flying onscreen is very attention getting. No doubt the green wash of your dealership’s fluorescent lighting is true to life. However, allow me to make one suggestion – and I may be out of line with this: Think about hiring a director. Directors are all the rage. Seriously. They have these things called “crews,” “professional equipment” and “expertise,” that “make things not suck.”

But then again, maybe I should be careful about what I wish (or request). There is an ever so-small part of me that loves your crappy commercials. They add flavor to my life and represent the advertising equivalent of a crazy uncle. You never know what ol’ Uncle Jack is going to say, but you’re pretty sure it will be amusing, abrasive, and someone will likely walk out of the room offended. Were it not for your 30-second, jalopy-hustling symphonies, my office conversations might be roughly 70 percent less interesting, and I should thank you for that.

So, local car dealer, change or don’t change … your call. I now realize your significance in my life. And while your 15-minutes of fame could improve, the campy clutter you spit out only makes my commercials look better.

Yesterday, Disney announced that it was purchasing Marvel Comics for the sum of 4 billion dollars. As you might expect, news spread quickly throughout the traditional news outlets, as well as the Internet. At one point, a Google search simply stating Disney buys Marvel produced 1,600,000 million results with 1,270 related articles. So yeah, this is kind of a big deal. Possibly the world’s preeminent brand buying another one of the largest brands in the world. Two definite Teen Titans (sorry DC Comic Fans) are now the world’s most famous newlyweds.

The deal is an absolute no-brainer for both parties involved. Disney now possesses a library of more than 5,000 characters that includes Spider Man, Wolverine, Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, etc. All with humongous, far-reaching, long-standing fan bases – in this decade alone — their film franchises that have grossed more than 3 billion dollars. {more}

The one thing I learned in 2008 is that I needed to get up to speed with all things Web 2.0. That’s a hard thing to do considering it evolves every 10 seconds. So in 2008, I became active on Facebook and LinkedIn, created my own blog:  http://www.midwestmediagirl.blogspot.com, set up RSS feeds of my favorite bloggers and even dabbled in Twitter. {more}

Right-smart folks did a study once on working conditions in the higher floors of skyscrapers. They sought to discover the “breaking point” of humans when working in structures that swayed in high winds due to their height. They found out that if a building moved more than three feet in any direction, it became too disturbing for workers. Without really noticing, people just felt “uncomfortable” or even sick — to the point of workers quitting their jobs or the company moving out. Moving building = no tenants = no rent = bad. {more}

Talk about bad karma.

I visited the Miami International Boat Show last week on behalf of several clients.  As the world’s largest boat show, the event attracts hundreds of journalists, and with them throngs of PR guys…like me.

Though the weather was sunny, the show operated under a very dark cloud. Literally every conversation I had touched on industry people being laid off, boat companies going under, magazines cutting staff and dealers sitting on inventory.  Certainly, none of this was surprisingly; hell, few product categories are more discretionary – or expensive – than recreational boating.  In reality, the boat business was reeling from high gas prices and consumer unease even before the housing/banking crisis of last fall. The Wall Street meltdown just turned that downward trajectory into an out-and-out nose dive.

The gloom was noticeable on the show floor, where consumers were few and far between, and in the media room, where many long-attending writers were conspicuous in their absence. It was also noticeable in the press conference schedule (there were few); the corporate hospitality bashes and splashy magazine events (there were none); and even in the area restaurants, which sat mostly empty. {more}

In our American dialogue lie words from every corner of the world – some Yiddish, some Italian, and many from our own popular culture. Some of these words get tossed in and become everyday lingo. Phrases like “What do you know?” and “It’s cool” or “Schmuck,” have become a regular part of how we speak. And some others have all the plastic charm of a one-hit wonder. I’m thinking “Chillaxin” and “Outside the box.”

Some of these words and phrases have to go.

When it comes to our “cutting edge” colloquial voice, phrases tend to have a short shelf life. This usually happens with words plucked from rap music or hot rod culture, for instance. Favorites like “Old school” or “Kickin’ it” arrive at our ears as street credible hotness – that is until you read it as your mom’s Facebook status.

Just like when the “latest fashions” from New York finally hit Kansas – you know they’re no longer fashionable. So, we’ve started a list. The following are words no longer held within our vocabulary portfolio. Also listed are some we’d like to bring back, as well as some we’d like to contribute as new and fresh:

Done with it
Old school
Outside the box
It is what it is
Kickin’ it
At the end of the day
Coolio
True Dat
Chillaxin’
That’s what she said
Keeping it real
Whasuuuup
Biatch
Farm out
Just sayin’
Honey-Do-List
Hubby
Dawg
Bling (Added 10/26/09)
Sick! (To describe something you like: “That Camaro Z-28 is sick!” – Added 10/26/09)
Livin’ the dream (Added 10/26/09)

Bring it back
Solid
Fierce
Keep on truckin’
Party hearty
Bully
Jive Turkey
Boss
Bitchin’
Dope
Numb Nuts
Bunk
Knucklehead
Jibba Jabba (Added 10/30/09)
Sucka (Added 10/30/09)

Something New
Ga-Dow! (Used as an expletive like Whoa! or Damn!)
Coffee nuts (A put down, as in, “Hey, Coffee Nuts, you dropped your Walkman®.)
Push (Something negative: “Going to Friday meetings at 4pm are a total push.”)
Pull (Something positive: “Hey, this egg sandwich was a pull. Yummy.”)
e-Cred (E-mail credibility based on what you forward as funny or important.)

We’d love to see your comments about our list and feel free to agree, disagree, and add your own.