In my early radio days, the Ford Motor Company—or, more probably, their marketing department—came up with a unique approach to advertising. (If they weren’t the first to employ this technique, this was the first time I’d encountered it.) In various radio markets, they would contact the radio stations on which they intended to advertise. They would “invite” the disc jockeys—usually morning and afternoon drive personalities—to experience the newest car models.
On the specified morning, a limo would arrive for the on-air people a whisk them off to a regional race track. There they would be given a nice lunch and they’d hear all about the newest Ford products while taking turns zipping around the track in those very same vehicles. Following the test driving of the cars, they’d be treated to adult beverages and really cool merchandise.
Then, beginning soon thereafter, their agency would place “buys” for :60-second commercials during the air-shifts of the personalities who came to the event. They were to be “live” commercials, meaning that, instead of a pre-recorded :60-second commercial, the disc jockey was to talk about his experience with driving the new models. So, since they’d been wined and dined and given cool stuff, what happened was that the DJs always talked for more than a minute; sometimes doubling the allotted time. Quite often Ford got double their purchased air time and the enthusiastic personal testimonies of the DJs created a feeling of believability and trust. It was an ingenious campaign.
Always a bridesmaid, never a racecar driver.
I really have no details to share with you about how much fun the event(s) were because I never got to go.
In my early days, I was assigned to come in and be on the air from 6:00am until 5:00pm while the morning, midday and afternoon jocks got to go to the event. They came back wearing cool Ford Mustang jackets along with sacks other cool crap and they were excitedly talking about how fun it was to drive these cars around the track.
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I got bupkis.
The next time Ford ran this campaign, I was half of the morning team. But both of us couldn’t go (for some reason I can’t recall), so my partner went. Same thing. I worked and he got to drive cars really fast and ate good food, brought home some cool merch and had a fun day.
The third time it happened I was at another station, working middays on the air. This time the agency only wanted morning and afternoon people so I got to, again, come in at 6:00 and work for my boss, then do my five-hour shift and work two hours of the afternoon guy’s shift until 5:00. This one was the toughest because, besides a watch and some other trinkets, the clothing item they got was a really cool leather jacket. It was made to look weathered and had air force (or army air corps?) patches. The lining was a replica of a map of France like WWII bomber crews had sewn inside their jackets. I thought it was the best jacket I’d ever seen but, once again, I missed out.
Scotch and leather.
A few years later I was producing TV commercials at a local television station. One of my former radio stations was sending their DJs over to record a TV spot to advertise their station. Since they were all on the air during the day, my boss scheduled them in from 8:00 to 10:00pm. And, since I knew them, my boss assigned me to be their producer.
That night, the three guys came in and we knocked out the taping in no time. Following the shoot, the guys invited me to join them at a local establishment for a drink (two?). I accepted and we were having a grand time reminiscing and making each other laugh. I was sitting next to my friend, Don Frey. As we swirled the ice in our glasses and contemplated one more drink, he checked his watch to see what time it was getting to be. As he rolled up his sleeve and looked at his watch, he swung his arm my way and said, “Hey! Here’s that watch I got when you worked for me!”
I smiled and said, “It wasn’t the watch. And it wasn’t any of the other swag I missed out on over the years. But that bomber jacket you got was the coolest thing ever. I’m ashamed at how much I coveted it.”
Wearing it (here with my cousin Mikey).
He said, “Oh. I hate that thing. Come by during my shift tomorrow and I’ll give it to you.”
Following a brief exchange in which he assured me he wasn’t messing with me, I told him I’d be there.
And I was.
I showed up with a case of his favorite beer, which he said wasn’t necessary. He handed me his jacket and I have worn that thing for over 30 years. I’ve traveled all over the country with it. I’ve worn it so often that I’ve ripped through the lining in the pockets (and don’t know if they can be repaired). It’s just the coolest jacket ever.
I’ve lost touch with him over the years and he’ll never know what a great gift he gave me and how often I’ve worn it. Thanks, Don!
