Re-Erect Hung Far Low!

When I heard that Chinatown's famous neon Hung Far Low restaurant sign had been removed for safety reasons, I was dismayed. It seemed that our city was losing yet another piece of its unique identity.

Gladly, there was a flurry of interest. A small but passionate group of activist citizens, including yours truly, decided not take this development sitting down. The result? A groundswell of support has emerged to repair the sign and return it to its place. I lent my wordcraft to the cause, drafted the slogan you see above and sent it off to a few friends. Seems they liked it. It caught on.

Get yourself this Pander Brothers t-shirt.

A fundraising campaign has now materialized, rallying around the cry "Re-Erect Hung Far Low"! You can visit a website to make donations to the cause or, for a better ROI, purchase T-shirts that feature my words and a design created by Pander Brothers studios. How cool is that?

The fact is, our unique identity as a city matters. Our sense of place, of history, even of self are closely tied to landmarks signs like Hung Far Low and Made in Oregon. It's part of what makes us, us. Unfortunately, like most U.S. cities, Portland seems to be under constant threat of a mega-corporation ooze that encroaches upon our cultural heritage. In this case, time itself had brought a threat to bear.

For that reason, I encourage you to drop by the site and pick up a shirt. I'm also pitching in to help throw a block party to raise funds for the sign. Watch this space for details -- or if you want to help, drop me a note. In the meantime, let's keep Portland weird.

Rosey Awards vs. Nosey Awards: Why I'm Feeling the Love

The Roseys and the Noseys take their gloves off in the Twittersphere.

The 2009 Rosey Awards campaign has provoked more controversy and debate than perhaps any previous Roseys campaign. As mentioned in my post last week, having contributed copywriting to this Ant Hill Marketing production and helped continue the debate in the social media sphere, I am very proud of these results. Let me explain.

The way I see it, controversy as a mode of engagement is neither “bad” nor “good.” It just is. It’s people being people. I’m more interested in its value to the participants and in the outcomes to which it leads. By those measures, the Roseys get an A+ for provoking passionate, intelligent debate. This conflict has brought us together—an all-the-more-ironic outcome for a community that is often described as being conflict-averse.

Still, while I love this campaign, come November and the celebration of the Rosey Awards gala, this whole sturm will float down the drang. Whether you like the 2009 Roseys campaign or hate it, “either way,” as Billy Joel once sang, “it’s okay, you wake up with yourself.”

But this year there will be one vital difference.

This year’s Roseys have done more than merely piss a few people off. They have moved some people to action. Specifically, two employees of Nemo Design, Dave Ewald (aka @motorcoatdave) and Justin Spohn (aka @adognamedpants). They launched an alternative to the Roseys, dubbing it the Nosey Awards.

Although I have spoken well of the Noseys, mostly on Twitter as @joelgunz, Justin and others have somehow gotten it into their heads that I am frustrated by or otherwise resentful of its presence. Nothing could be farther from the truth. The fact is, since imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, my ego should spiking through the roof. I am honored, guys, thanks. (BTW, Dave and I are getting together for happy hour on Monday to chat more about the project.)

Why do I like the Noseys so much? Because, one month ago, Portland had (to my knowledge) only one creative community awards show. Now it has two. And they naturally complement each other. We have a juried competition, the Roseys, and a people’s choice competition, the Noseys. Sweet! Such diversity can only be good for the creative community. Kudos to Dave and Justin and to their most vocal advocate, yet another Nemo employee, Dave Allen, aka @pampelmoose. Though Allen claims to have no formal connection to the Noseys, it's hard to imagine where the Noseys would be without his indefatigable support. Those three Nemo employees have done a great job of quickly getting the Noseys off the ground.

This isn’t to say, however, that their project isn’t without flaws. (Come on, guys, you knew this was coming.)

As a parody of a snarky, smack-talky campaign, the Noseys also use the language of snark in its own self-promotion. For instance, on twitter, @NoseyAwards has embraced such snarky sentiments as “Our community is better than your campaign.” Justin has tweeted: “The Noseys aren't about hating on anyone but the haters.” A basic rule of life is that in hating the haters, you become one of them. Judging by the piss and vinegar in his various blog comments, he is clearly already there.

Therein lies the rub. You cannot try to seize the moral high ground by rising above snark, yet continue communicate using snark. It’s intellectually and philosophically dishonest. If the Noseys really do want to stand for something other than the snark of the Roseys, I would suggest that they take a completely different approach, perhaps one involving buttercups and unicorns. Then again, I hope they don’t actually take this advice, because I’m enjoying the parody and the smack talk.

Perhaps the funniest response to the whole spat is this tweet via @kirstenblair: “If the #noseys are the anti #roseys then I'm making #hellnoseys - Screw contests.” Hells to the yeah!

Until then,
Long live the Roseys!
Long live the Noseys!

The 2009 Roseys: Brash, Cheap and I Wouldn't Have it Any Other Way

For too long, I've let this blog go dormant. It took the 2009 Rosey Awards campaign to get me off my butt. For better or worse, this is what has resulted.

It has been exciting to see individuals debate the merits of the 2009 Rosey Awards campaign and, by extension, the merits of the Portland creative community. This year’s concept—“Nothing Says I’m Better Than You Like a Rosey”—was intended to be controversial and provocative. Judging by what I’ve seen in the Blogosphere and on Twitter, it has achieved those aims. If nothing else, this campaign has us passionately engaging in a heartfelt debate about how Portland ought to present itself to the world as a creative hub.

Still, I have a beef with Portland-area creatives. This city is filled with smart, gifted, talented people. Global- and national-ranked opportunities ought to be ours to turn down. But that isn’t happening—even in the best of economic times. Why is that? Perhaps one factor is our cultural climate itself. Portlanders are often characterized as having a certain “cool detachment.” While I like that lifestyle, it isn’t without costs.

Generous spirits admire our easygoing, coffeehouse-and-bicycle culture, yet snarkier voices call it a slacker mentality. I think there’s a lot of truth in both of those viewpoints. As a third-generation Portlander who has spent most of my adult life in this community, I have to speak up frankly for the latter view.

The way I see it, at the heart of that hip, cool pose is fear. Fear that we really can’t hang with our peers in other markets. Fear of rejection. Fear of being resented or called sellouts or accused of rising above our station if we elbow our way into the VIP suite, where we know we truly belong.

Sometimes I feel like I’m at a prom where hardly anyone is dancing—not for lack of partners, but lack of courage to do the dance.

And it’s holding us back from getting the good gigs.

To echo Jimmy Carter—whose observation was correct, if politically disastrous (he SO reminds me of me)—this attitude is a longstanding, endemic cultural malaise and it’s corrupting our ability to take our rightful place in the national arena as a first-rate creative community. Obviously, there are Portlanders who do not fit this description at all. But far too many fit it to a T.

Which brings me back to the Roseys campaign. Many recognize what it’s trying to accomplish. Note what members of the Denver creative community have to say at the Denver Egotist:

“Granted, the crux of the [Roseys] site involves talking shit about every city other than Portland itself—and it’s damn hilarious. But it’s also the truth—the real way cities already on the map outside ours perceive what’s going on here creatively.”

The Roseys’ pugnacious tone follows in the tradition of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, Don Rickles and the celebrity roast. (Disclosure: I contributed copy.) It might be ill-conceived if it were not for the fact that the PAF is reaching out to the rest of the nation’s creative communities via direct mail, email, Facebook and Twitter (also #roseys) to return the smack talk. By inviting such replies, the campaign demonstrates a true sense of humor, in that it can both dish it out and take it.

And the responses have been a lot of fun. The Seattlest, for instance, said:

“If, like us, you were wondering what the hell the Rosey Awards are, they're rewards for doing decent creative work in Oregon. Don't worry--you won't be asked about that on trivia night. There's a difference between trivia and inconsequentia.”

Heh heh. That’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.

Every year, a few people complain that the Roseys are, as one Twitterer put, “insider-ish and self-congratulatory.” Well, let’s see.... Since the Roseys are by and for the Portland creative community how could they not be that way? It’s like complaining that their ice cream is too cold.

Portland Ad Federation board member Ryan Buchanan said it well in his eROI Days blog: “I think it’s the perfect time for Portland to step up and talk with confidence about its creative talent here.” We sweat talent in this city. But it won’t take off in the way that we claim we want until we, as a hub, get a big-city fire in our gut.

Or like Bill Maher said the other night about Obama, "Enough with the hope. I want more audacity." The 2009 Rosey campaign aims for such audacity. When you swagger, people are going to call you an asshole. They are also going to respect you and give you money in exchange for your ideas. I think that’s a very fair trade-off.

For the record, I would gladly give up a bit of our slacker lifestyle to achieve it.

In the meantime, have some fun with this brief campaign. Give in to your base urges and join the smackdown.