I posted this blog a year ago, but here it is almost Thanksgiving Dinner again, so I thought I would post it now, for those who might need the information. Also in the last year, I have figured out how to "Label" blogs, which is to say I can get it to work 75 percent of the time, so I will label this one "Cooking," for future easy reference.
Best Turkey: Shot, and Smoked
For the 26th straight Thanksgiving Day, the findings of the Kettner Blvd. College of Turkey Surgeons and Airport Relocation Committee remain unchanged.The surest way to have a moist, flavorful turkey for Thanksgiving is to shoot it and smoke it.
If you are new to the debate, the KBCTSARC was created to research answers to two dilemmas of our time:Is there a way to make turkey moist?Where should San Diego locate its new airport?The first issue is universal, or at least as widespread as those regions on the planet where turkey is cooked and served.
The second issue is local. I was born in Texas, where you can put an airport almost anywhere, but since 1972 I have lived in San Diego, California. Sometime in the 1930s, San Diegans started talking about the need to relocate their airport from Lindbergh Field to some better location.
Three-quarters of a century later, that question is still in the hands of a committee (not the KBCTSARC) which meets regularly to discuss potential locations as disparate as the Imperial Desert (a two-hour drive) and the Pacific Ocean (airport built on piers or pontoons).
The KBCTSARC, meanwhile, goes about its business casually, a pace consistent with our motto: “Not likely to happen in our lifetimes.” Our current airport relocation advice is: leave it where it is.
Regarding the turkey, a fresh bird (not frozen, or previously frozen) is best, about 18 pounds. You will need a large syringe, used originally by large-animal veterinarians but now a popular item in kitchenware stores and catalogues. And you will need a Weber kettle cooker, the 22-inch size, and a bag of charcoal briquets laced with mesquite. With the syringe, inject into the bird’s breasts and thighs a mixture of melted butter, chicken stock, and a couple tablespoons of sherry. In this mixture, saturate a clean dishcloth and place it over the bird.
Build small, 20-briquet fires on either side of the fire grate. Close the kettle and lid vents halfway. Place the bird, unstuffed, in the center of the grille, to create indirect-heat cooking. Moisten the cloth every 45 minutes and tend the fires, adding a few briquets each time. Remove the cloth the last hour of cooking and inject the bird again. Cooking time should be about four hours. When a thigh wiggles freely, he is done. When he is finished, he will come out with a deep mahogany glaze.
But he won’t taste “barbecued.” He will have a smoky essence, but he will be all turkey. Turkey is like hamburger; it remains turkey no matter what you do to it. Thus the usual accompaniments are correct. Roast a big pan of dressing, with oysters and walnuts in it. Make a mess of giblet gravy, and sprinkle a quarter-cup of leftover coffee on the giblets as they are sautéing. Make a big pan of oven-roasted (350 degrees) vegetables: new potatoes, onions, carrots, red and green bell peppers, broccoli stalks, all chunked and tossed with a little olive oil, salt and pepper. When these are starting to get tender, add the broccoli florets and plenty of crimini mushrooms and let it go another 15 minutes.
Have fresh white bread and a full jar of mayonnaise ready for the turkey sandwiches on Friday. Always the best part of Thanksgiving dinner.
November 24, 2008
November 23, 2008
Big heart, bad blisters
It's tough, living with an athlete who has had to go on the disabled list. They rage at themselves.
Karen called me yesterday noon to come pick her up. She was halfway through the 3Day 60-mile walk when she finally agreed with her feet that she couldn't and shouldn't continue.
At the close of the first day's 20 miles, she marched into the 3Day's sprawling pink tent city, pulled off her shoes and socks, and examined blisters the size of brazil nuts, one on each foot, where the deep part of the arch meets her heel. She wears plastic orthotics, to straighten out a natural pronation, and the edge of the device rubbed at that vulnerable arch-heel spot.
She got the blisters lanced and treated and next morning, with "Second Skin" applications and bandaging, she continued. Nine miles out, after a second lancing and treatment at a medical tent, she had to stop. I came and found her and took her home.
The hard part is that she knew she had the 3Day in the bag. She knew it after the first 20 miles. Everything was fine, except for a blister on each foot that truly looked like a brazil nut. At these, she raged and cried. She needed to be out there with her team, and the four thousand other walkers. They were like an army, marching to liberate a people, and residents came out of their houses and businesses along the way to cheer the army and tell how proud they were. Buzzing around the marchers were "spirit people," on bicycles and motorbikes and in cars, wearing whimsical costumes like parade mummers and cheering the walkers on.
"I feel great," she said. "Everything is fine. Except for two little bleeping blisters." I told her what a little something like a sprained toe can do to a magnificent athlete like Antonio Gates, and how a Cy Young pitcher feels when a finger blister puts him on the bench, but it didn't do much good. She wanted to be out there, part of the experience of thousands of people acting together magnificently in behalf of a cause, breast cancer survivors out there marching, and she couldn't be with those brave sisters because of a couple of lousy feet. "All that training," she fumed. "No blisters then. I'd like to add up the number of miles I walked. A hundred, two hundred."
I would say at least two hundred, probably more, and it wasn't fair for the blisters to wait until game day. Injury never is fair. But, now we know how it happened, and next year she'll get the footwear right. Part of being an athlete is knowing that there's always next year.
She wasn't ready to give up. She thought she might be able to go today. Blisters always harden up when they are exposed to air. We took the patches off and gave them most of the afternoon and overnight to dry out. I was actually optimistic that she could get out there this morning. But the damage underneath was too much and continued to ooze. When she took a little test walk out to get the papers this morning, she could feel how full they were.
Her teammates called her last night to tell her how great she was. We are going to meet them this afternoon for a drink at a bar up the street from PetCo Park, where the walk ends, and then Karen will join them on the field for the closing ceremony. The check that the 3Day writes for the breast cancer fight will include the several thousand that Karen raised, but that won't close the deal. She knows she owes them 30 more miles. She will be fine in 2009.
Karen called me yesterday noon to come pick her up. She was halfway through the 3Day 60-mile walk when she finally agreed with her feet that she couldn't and shouldn't continue.
At the close of the first day's 20 miles, she marched into the 3Day's sprawling pink tent city, pulled off her shoes and socks, and examined blisters the size of brazil nuts, one on each foot, where the deep part of the arch meets her heel. She wears plastic orthotics, to straighten out a natural pronation, and the edge of the device rubbed at that vulnerable arch-heel spot.
She got the blisters lanced and treated and next morning, with "Second Skin" applications and bandaging, she continued. Nine miles out, after a second lancing and treatment at a medical tent, she had to stop. I came and found her and took her home.
The hard part is that she knew she had the 3Day in the bag. She knew it after the first 20 miles. Everything was fine, except for a blister on each foot that truly looked like a brazil nut. At these, she raged and cried. She needed to be out there with her team, and the four thousand other walkers. They were like an army, marching to liberate a people, and residents came out of their houses and businesses along the way to cheer the army and tell how proud they were. Buzzing around the marchers were "spirit people," on bicycles and motorbikes and in cars, wearing whimsical costumes like parade mummers and cheering the walkers on.
"I feel great," she said. "Everything is fine. Except for two little bleeping blisters." I told her what a little something like a sprained toe can do to a magnificent athlete like Antonio Gates, and how a Cy Young pitcher feels when a finger blister puts him on the bench, but it didn't do much good. She wanted to be out there, part of the experience of thousands of people acting together magnificently in behalf of a cause, breast cancer survivors out there marching, and she couldn't be with those brave sisters because of a couple of lousy feet. "All that training," she fumed. "No blisters then. I'd like to add up the number of miles I walked. A hundred, two hundred."
I would say at least two hundred, probably more, and it wasn't fair for the blisters to wait until game day. Injury never is fair. But, now we know how it happened, and next year she'll get the footwear right. Part of being an athlete is knowing that there's always next year.
She wasn't ready to give up. She thought she might be able to go today. Blisters always harden up when they are exposed to air. We took the patches off and gave them most of the afternoon and overnight to dry out. I was actually optimistic that she could get out there this morning. But the damage underneath was too much and continued to ooze. When she took a little test walk out to get the papers this morning, she could feel how full they were.
Her teammates called her last night to tell her how great she was. We are going to meet them this afternoon for a drink at a bar up the street from PetCo Park, where the walk ends, and then Karen will join them on the field for the closing ceremony. The check that the 3Day writes for the breast cancer fight will include the several thousand that Karen raised, but that won't close the deal. She knows she owes them 30 more miles. She will be fine in 2009.
November 20, 2008
I have a 6:30 a.m. assignment for you
Karen is naturally athletic, but she did not become an athlete until about a month ago.
It started in August when one day her brain overheated and took a wrong turn. She decided she was going to sign up for our 3Day Breast Cancer Walk in San Diego. The 3Day starts on a Friday, and the walkers go 20 miles a day until they reach the finish line on Sunday afternoon.
I have had big ideas like that, but they always go away after I lie down for awhile and have a few sips of cool water. Karen did take a cool soak at my suggestion, but when she toweled off, she still had that look in her eyes.
She has connections to breast cancer and the 3Day. Nataly Pluta, her great friend, is a breast cancer survivor and has done the 3Day for the last three years. Each year, Karen and I have driven down to the overnight camp to say "Yay!" to her and give her a bottle of wine to sneak back to the tent. Karen is married to me, and I am a man whose late wife, Meredith, died of breast cancer in July, 2000. Karen has other family, friends and associates who have experienced breast cancer. She made a list of names, 32 when she was finished, and showed it to me.
"These are the people I will be walking for," she said. To the original names, she had added three more: Caitlin, her granddaughter; Addie, Meredith's granddaughter; and Evie June, my granddaughter. The idea being that what Karen did now might mean these three little girls might go through their whole, deserved lives in a world free of breast cancer.
She started off at three miles. Then we drove to Miramar Lake, where lots of people walk, bicycle and skate the five miles around the lake. Off she went in one direction and 90-odd minutes later, back she came from the other direction. I started getting impressed. I walked, too, all of 30 minutes, and then I waited in the car, drank coffee and read the paper. In fairness, I am just getting back on the trail after hip replacement surgery, but I could have all my original parts and be 30 years younger, and would not voluntarily walk 60 miles in three days, or five miles in 90 minutes.
She bought special shoes and socks; socks with toes in them. Weekends came when she left the house before daylight to meet her team and walk 12 or 14 miles somewhere. She would get back at noon with the classic rode-hard look. One day during the week she dropped me at school at 8 a.m. At 1 p.m. my phone rang. "Just got finished," she said. "Dang," I said. I had taught two classes and eaten lunch. All that time, she had been walking a trail at Lake Murray.
Her body was changing. It was more than weight loss. It showed in her skin, her eyes, her smile, her mood. "Just going out for a short one," she would say at 5:30 a.m. Five miles later, she was back in time to take me to work. She shifted from cotton to a kind of garment that wicks away moisture. She had a waist pack, a special hat, a scarf, an iPod, water, other paraphernalia. She was not just going out the door now, she was carrying gear. She looked like a baseball player getting on the bus. I said to her: "You look like an athlete." And of course she was. I told her she was "dedicated," but an hour later decided I had used the wrong word. "What you are, is distinguished," I said.
About a month ago, she came home from a 15-miler looking like she hadn't done much more than a little gardening. "I feel different," she said. "I feel like I've got 15 miles under my belt." She was in a place most of us don't reach.
Last week, she and her team did back-to-back training, 15 miles on Saturday and 14 on Sunday. Her last week has called for only one three-miler on Tuesday, then rest. But she can't rest. She has dreamed about the 3Day every night. She started getting her gear ready on Monday. Today we double-checked it all. "My mind is doing a million things," she said. She is jumpy. She paces. She's in there right now taking a soak. Nothing special for dinner, she says. I hope she can sleep tonight. Before bed, we are going to watch "Chariots of Fire."
I will drop her off at 5:45 tomorrow morning. Starting-line time is 6:30. At 6:30 California time, if you have read this, I want you to go outside and yell, "Go, Karen!"
It started in August when one day her brain overheated and took a wrong turn. She decided she was going to sign up for our 3Day Breast Cancer Walk in San Diego. The 3Day starts on a Friday, and the walkers go 20 miles a day until they reach the finish line on Sunday afternoon.
I have had big ideas like that, but they always go away after I lie down for awhile and have a few sips of cool water. Karen did take a cool soak at my suggestion, but when she toweled off, she still had that look in her eyes.
She has connections to breast cancer and the 3Day. Nataly Pluta, her great friend, is a breast cancer survivor and has done the 3Day for the last three years. Each year, Karen and I have driven down to the overnight camp to say "Yay!" to her and give her a bottle of wine to sneak back to the tent. Karen is married to me, and I am a man whose late wife, Meredith, died of breast cancer in July, 2000. Karen has other family, friends and associates who have experienced breast cancer. She made a list of names, 32 when she was finished, and showed it to me.
"These are the people I will be walking for," she said. To the original names, she had added three more: Caitlin, her granddaughter; Addie, Meredith's granddaughter; and Evie June, my granddaughter. The idea being that what Karen did now might mean these three little girls might go through their whole, deserved lives in a world free of breast cancer.
She started off at three miles. Then we drove to Miramar Lake, where lots of people walk, bicycle and skate the five miles around the lake. Off she went in one direction and 90-odd minutes later, back she came from the other direction. I started getting impressed. I walked, too, all of 30 minutes, and then I waited in the car, drank coffee and read the paper. In fairness, I am just getting back on the trail after hip replacement surgery, but I could have all my original parts and be 30 years younger, and would not voluntarily walk 60 miles in three days, or five miles in 90 minutes.
She bought special shoes and socks; socks with toes in them. Weekends came when she left the house before daylight to meet her team and walk 12 or 14 miles somewhere. She would get back at noon with the classic rode-hard look. One day during the week she dropped me at school at 8 a.m. At 1 p.m. my phone rang. "Just got finished," she said. "Dang," I said. I had taught two classes and eaten lunch. All that time, she had been walking a trail at Lake Murray.
Her body was changing. It was more than weight loss. It showed in her skin, her eyes, her smile, her mood. "Just going out for a short one," she would say at 5:30 a.m. Five miles later, she was back in time to take me to work. She shifted from cotton to a kind of garment that wicks away moisture. She had a waist pack, a special hat, a scarf, an iPod, water, other paraphernalia. She was not just going out the door now, she was carrying gear. She looked like a baseball player getting on the bus. I said to her: "You look like an athlete." And of course she was. I told her she was "dedicated," but an hour later decided I had used the wrong word. "What you are, is distinguished," I said.
About a month ago, she came home from a 15-miler looking like she hadn't done much more than a little gardening. "I feel different," she said. "I feel like I've got 15 miles under my belt." She was in a place most of us don't reach.
Last week, she and her team did back-to-back training, 15 miles on Saturday and 14 on Sunday. Her last week has called for only one three-miler on Tuesday, then rest. But she can't rest. She has dreamed about the 3Day every night. She started getting her gear ready on Monday. Today we double-checked it all. "My mind is doing a million things," she said. She is jumpy. She paces. She's in there right now taking a soak. Nothing special for dinner, she says. I hope she can sleep tonight. Before bed, we are going to watch "Chariots of Fire."
I will drop her off at 5:45 tomorrow morning. Starting-line time is 6:30. At 6:30 California time, if you have read this, I want you to go outside and yell, "Go, Karen!"
November 18, 2008
Frontiering and elements of style
It is not a bad idea, whenever a person encounters annoying language, to look in Strunk and White’s timeless writer’s booklet, “The Elements of Style,” for clues why the annoyance occurred. It becomes a very good idea when the annoying language threatens to become official and influence thought without challenge.
That prospect of thought without challenge is what bothers me so about “Abilene Frontiering,” the words proposed to become a commercial “brand” to advertise my hometown.
No way to know how “Elements of Style” co-author E.B. White, the famed 20th-century essayist and author of “Charlotte’s Web,” might react to the word “frontiering.” That opportunity is lost, but in matters of words not to use, White has been helpful to me before. So again I go to “Elements.”
White begins the book’s Chapter Five, “An Approach to Style,” with a shot directly to the heart of the matter.
“Up to this point,” he begins, “the book has been concerned with what is correct, or acceptable, in the use of English. In this final chapter, we approach style in its broader meaning: style in the sense of what is distinguished and distinguishing. Here we leave solid ground. Who can confidently say what ignites a certain combination of words, causing them to explode in the mind?”
Such style, White says, is “an increment in writing. When we speak of Fitzgerald’s style, we don’t mean his command of the relative pronoun, we mean the sound his words make on paper.”
Since high school, I have taken the sound that words make on paper to be the goal of selecting the right words to say what I mean. Sound implies effect, some action that relates the word to what is actually happening on the ground. White states it this way: “Young writers often suppose that style is a garnish for the meat of prose, a sauce by which a dull dish is made palatable. Style has no such separate entity; it is nondetachable, unfilterable.” The beginner seeking style, White says, “should begin by turning resolutely away from all devices that are popularly believed to indicate style – all mannerisms, tricks, adornments. The approach to style is by way of plainness, simplicity, orderliness, sincerity.”
I stand the style of “frontiering” against this counsel, and it fails the test. It fails by itself, as a word untouched by style, which is simply annoying. Annoyance turns to alarm when officials propose to use such a word to influence thought about Abilene. The city may lack the style of Paris or Rome, or even San Antonio, but “frontiering” insults the considerable style that Abilene does have. What would be the words that make the right sound on paper for Abilene? Look for a combination that explodes in the mind, or at least ignites, and spreads across the face in a smile, or a glow of pride, Abilene, Texas style.
That prospect of thought without challenge is what bothers me so about “Abilene Frontiering,” the words proposed to become a commercial “brand” to advertise my hometown.
No way to know how “Elements of Style” co-author E.B. White, the famed 20th-century essayist and author of “Charlotte’s Web,” might react to the word “frontiering.” That opportunity is lost, but in matters of words not to use, White has been helpful to me before. So again I go to “Elements.”
White begins the book’s Chapter Five, “An Approach to Style,” with a shot directly to the heart of the matter.
“Up to this point,” he begins, “the book has been concerned with what is correct, or acceptable, in the use of English. In this final chapter, we approach style in its broader meaning: style in the sense of what is distinguished and distinguishing. Here we leave solid ground. Who can confidently say what ignites a certain combination of words, causing them to explode in the mind?”
Such style, White says, is “an increment in writing. When we speak of Fitzgerald’s style, we don’t mean his command of the relative pronoun, we mean the sound his words make on paper.”
Since high school, I have taken the sound that words make on paper to be the goal of selecting the right words to say what I mean. Sound implies effect, some action that relates the word to what is actually happening on the ground. White states it this way: “Young writers often suppose that style is a garnish for the meat of prose, a sauce by which a dull dish is made palatable. Style has no such separate entity; it is nondetachable, unfilterable.” The beginner seeking style, White says, “should begin by turning resolutely away from all devices that are popularly believed to indicate style – all mannerisms, tricks, adornments. The approach to style is by way of plainness, simplicity, orderliness, sincerity.”
I stand the style of “frontiering” against this counsel, and it fails the test. It fails by itself, as a word untouched by style, which is simply annoying. Annoyance turns to alarm when officials propose to use such a word to influence thought about Abilene. The city may lack the style of Paris or Rome, or even San Antonio, but “frontiering” insults the considerable style that Abilene does have. What would be the words that make the right sound on paper for Abilene? Look for a combination that explodes in the mind, or at least ignites, and spreads across the face in a smile, or a glow of pride, Abilene, Texas style.
November 14, 2008
The branding of Abilene, next chapter
The branding saga in Abilene, Texas, my hometown, has entered a remarkable new phase. For background, I will now re-post two blogs first posted in the summer of 2007, at the time the saga began.
The first blog, posted July 26, 2007:
My hometown, Abilene, Texas, is seeking to establish itself as a brand, to better compete in the state, national, and international, public consciousness for the purpose of attracting business and tourism.
A "brand" is a term, phrase, or symbol that makes a product or service unique in the public consciousness ("Xerox," "Google," "Neiman's"). Examples of branded cities are "The Big Apple," "Big D," "Cowtown," "Vegas," and "L.A." Abilene had an original brand, "The Key City of West Texas," and now uses "The Friendly Frontier." The first has lost its scope, and the second is restrictive and not memorable. "Abilene" is the title of a famous song by George Hamilton IV, which rightly describes Abilene as pretty, but lies about the women there, and does not provide any other information.
Abilene has proven attributes which include location, seasons, civic pride and motivation, existing attractions and opportunities, opportunities for new attractions, savvy, future-oriented municipal, civic and business management, a favorable business climate, affordable cost of living, three universities and affiliations with others, strong traditions but no longer straitlaced, and friendliness. Abilene could truthfully adopt a slogan: "America's Home Town." "Abilene" is also a very pretty name, and easy to remember.
I first learned of Abilene's branding effort a few weeks ago in a story in The Abilene Reporter-News. The Abilene Branding Partnership, a consortium of five civic entities, had called for a Statement of Qualifications from five marketing companies. I have affection for Abilene, and the Reporter-News, where I began my career in 1969, and I have interest in how people feel about Abilene. In researching a book about Abilene history three years ago, I had the opportunity to spend time there on several visits, and talk to Abilenians about the city's present strengths and weaknesses.
Thus was I compelled to stick my branding iron into the fire. Three or four days later, I had an idea. On June 21, I emailed the Abilene Branding Partnership, but I was too late. The June 14 deadline for submitting my Statement of Qualifications had passed. I asked to be considered if the search was reopened, and that was agreed to.
Today, the Reporter-News reported that the consortium has agreed to hire North Star Destination Strategies, out of Nashville, Tennessee, to develop an Abilene brand, and a branding strategy, for a fee in the "low six figures," should the money be found locally and a contract signed. North Star was one of only three companies, out of the 11, responding to Abilene's call for a Statement of Qualifications.
So the deal is done, and I can publish my idea. For a penny less than six figures - $99,999.99 – I would have provided Abilene all rights to a three-word brand that co-opts an already global brand, has four distinct applications and one state of mind, and it offers multiple branding strategies.
It would identify a place.
It would identify a thing.
It would identify an event.
It would identify a product.
It would identify a state of mind.
It would be:
"Abilene, Texas Style"
Published, copyrighted, protected. North Star will earn its money and give Abilene something that works better than "Friendly Frontier." And I will always know "Abilene, Texas Style" was good, and came in in an x-way tie for second place.
The second blog, posted Aug. 15, 2007:
I appreciate Jim McDonald's comment on the branding Abilene blog. He is another member of the Abilene High Class of 1961, which is a damn good group if I do say so. Re the fee for the Abilene brand, I waxed sentimental about those roots and briefly considered setting my fee for "Abilene, Texas Style" at $61,616.161, tacking on the tenth of a cent, like the gas pumps do, to preserve symmetry.
Then I decided against it. My fee is firm, $99.999.99, one cent less than the six figures the Abilene authorities are willing to pay North Star Destinations. That name – "North Star Destination" – pops to mind another possibility for the Abilene brand: "Lone Star Destination."
But you can't do as much with that as Abilene, Texas Style. I know the deal is done, but it is still fun to play with the thing. Right, Jim? On a yellow pad, I doodled everything that Abilene, Texas Style, might go with, in setting Abilene apart in the global mind. "Global" includes Tye, Potosi, Hawley, Hamby, View. Global starts at the front door, and it's as vital that "Abilene, Texas Style" means something in Colorado City, as much as it does in London, Paris or Dallas. Imagine, Dallasites driving 180 miles for a weekend of "Abilene, Texas Style." Getting somebody to leave Dallas for a weekend wouldn't take all that much, actually, but that is a direction for another day.
So I doodled.
Thanksgiving, Abilene, Texas Style
Christmas Parade, Abilene, Texas Style
Fourth of July, Abilene, Texas Style
Easter Sunday, Abilene, Texas Style
Education, Abilene, Texas Style
Football Classic, Abilene, Texas Style
Football playoffs, Abilene, Texas Style
Golf tournament, Abilene, Texas Style
Resort Ranch, Abilene, Texas Style
Weekend getaway, Abilene, Texas Style
Corporate retreat, Abilene, Texas Style
Regional Outlet Mall, Abilene, Texas Style
Filming location, Abilene, Texas Style
Senior prom weekend, Abilene, Texas Style
Culture, Arts, Music, Abilene, Texas Style
Broadway road show, Abilene, Texas Style
Concerts, Abilene, Texas Style
Championship rodeo, Abilene, Texas Style
Livestock shows, Abilene, Texas Style
Horse shows, Abilene, Texas Style
Any kind of celebration, Abilene Texas Style
Barbecue championship, Abilene, Texas Style
Premier, Abilene, Texas Style
Partnership, Abilene, Texas Style
Conventions, Abilene, Texas Style
Drag racing, Abilene, Texas Style
NASCAR, Abilene, Texas Style
Worship, Abilene, Texas Style
Leadership, Abilene, Texas Style
Patriotism, Abilene, Texas Style
Business, Abilene, Texas Style
Caring telethon, Abilene, Texas Style
Historical pageant, Abilene, Texas Style
Lifestyle, Abilene, Texas Style
Pride, Abilene, Texas Style
So there are things that can be done with it. The project has not turned out to be a burning issue in the Abilene community. I've counted about a dozen letters to the editor, some in favor, some opposed, most against paying anybody money to create a brand. There were a couple of offers to do it for free, or have a community contest with the winner receiving not much more than recognition and a few free dinners at participating restaurants.
I would never do it for free, and no one else should, either. I do think six figures to Tennessee thinkers is excessive, but there is a thing called "perceived value," which gives a thing value in the public mind simply by placing a value on it. Branding Abilene is something that will have to have value, both in the public mind and the participators' mind. This is a business deal. A brand should prove to be worth millions of dollars to whatever the branded thing is. To a city like Abilene, it should be worth hundreds of millions of dollars, to spend on infrastructure, schools, culture, subsidized water rates, rehabbing the near north side before the wind blows it over. Whoever conceives it, the brand should not be cheap, and it certainly should not be provided free by its creator.
While we're on the subject, does Abilene have a city flag?
Which brings us back to the present day, and the saga's next chapter.
On Wednesday, Abilenian Betty Sims alerted me that North Star Destinations, after 17 months of research and creativity, had revealed its new brand for Abilene at a Tuesday press conference in the historic Paramount Theater.
The brand:
"Abilene Frontiering"
Response was immediate, and furious, and pretty funny. Scores of comments were posted at The Abilene Reporter-News by citizens appalled at the idea of becoming frontieringers. As an Abilenian living in California, I am in total sympathy and will renounce my Perini's club card should this brand go forward. I will give my lettering jacketings to Goodwill. If I saw "Abilene Frontiering" cold, without context, as on a highway billboard, I would think it was an ad for an Abilene travel agency booking tours to Alaska, not for a pretty nice town in West Central Texas.
Of course I remain committed to "Abilene, Texas Style," but the commitment that matters most today is the one against "Abilene Frontiering." For heavening's sake. No comment on the furor from Citying Halling yet.
The first blog, posted July 26, 2007:
My hometown, Abilene, Texas, is seeking to establish itself as a brand, to better compete in the state, national, and international, public consciousness for the purpose of attracting business and tourism.
A "brand" is a term, phrase, or symbol that makes a product or service unique in the public consciousness ("Xerox," "Google," "Neiman's"). Examples of branded cities are "The Big Apple," "Big D," "Cowtown," "Vegas," and "L.A." Abilene had an original brand, "The Key City of West Texas," and now uses "The Friendly Frontier." The first has lost its scope, and the second is restrictive and not memorable. "Abilene" is the title of a famous song by George Hamilton IV, which rightly describes Abilene as pretty, but lies about the women there, and does not provide any other information.
Abilene has proven attributes which include location, seasons, civic pride and motivation, existing attractions and opportunities, opportunities for new attractions, savvy, future-oriented municipal, civic and business management, a favorable business climate, affordable cost of living, three universities and affiliations with others, strong traditions but no longer straitlaced, and friendliness. Abilene could truthfully adopt a slogan: "America's Home Town." "Abilene" is also a very pretty name, and easy to remember.
I first learned of Abilene's branding effort a few weeks ago in a story in The Abilene Reporter-News. The Abilene Branding Partnership, a consortium of five civic entities, had called for a Statement of Qualifications from five marketing companies. I have affection for Abilene, and the Reporter-News, where I began my career in 1969, and I have interest in how people feel about Abilene. In researching a book about Abilene history three years ago, I had the opportunity to spend time there on several visits, and talk to Abilenians about the city's present strengths and weaknesses.
Thus was I compelled to stick my branding iron into the fire. Three or four days later, I had an idea. On June 21, I emailed the Abilene Branding Partnership, but I was too late. The June 14 deadline for submitting my Statement of Qualifications had passed. I asked to be considered if the search was reopened, and that was agreed to.
Today, the Reporter-News reported that the consortium has agreed to hire North Star Destination Strategies, out of Nashville, Tennessee, to develop an Abilene brand, and a branding strategy, for a fee in the "low six figures," should the money be found locally and a contract signed. North Star was one of only three companies, out of the 11, responding to Abilene's call for a Statement of Qualifications.
So the deal is done, and I can publish my idea. For a penny less than six figures - $99,999.99 – I would have provided Abilene all rights to a three-word brand that co-opts an already global brand, has four distinct applications and one state of mind, and it offers multiple branding strategies.
It would identify a place.
It would identify a thing.
It would identify an event.
It would identify a product.
It would identify a state of mind.
It would be:
"Abilene, Texas Style"
Published, copyrighted, protected. North Star will earn its money and give Abilene something that works better than "Friendly Frontier." And I will always know "Abilene, Texas Style" was good, and came in in an x-way tie for second place.
The second blog, posted Aug. 15, 2007:
I appreciate Jim McDonald's comment on the branding Abilene blog. He is another member of the Abilene High Class of 1961, which is a damn good group if I do say so. Re the fee for the Abilene brand, I waxed sentimental about those roots and briefly considered setting my fee for "Abilene, Texas Style" at $61,616.161, tacking on the tenth of a cent, like the gas pumps do, to preserve symmetry.
Then I decided against it. My fee is firm, $99.999.99, one cent less than the six figures the Abilene authorities are willing to pay North Star Destinations. That name – "North Star Destination" – pops to mind another possibility for the Abilene brand: "Lone Star Destination."
But you can't do as much with that as Abilene, Texas Style. I know the deal is done, but it is still fun to play with the thing. Right, Jim? On a yellow pad, I doodled everything that Abilene, Texas Style, might go with, in setting Abilene apart in the global mind. "Global" includes Tye, Potosi, Hawley, Hamby, View. Global starts at the front door, and it's as vital that "Abilene, Texas Style" means something in Colorado City, as much as it does in London, Paris or Dallas. Imagine, Dallasites driving 180 miles for a weekend of "Abilene, Texas Style." Getting somebody to leave Dallas for a weekend wouldn't take all that much, actually, but that is a direction for another day.
So I doodled.
Thanksgiving, Abilene, Texas Style
Christmas Parade, Abilene, Texas Style
Fourth of July, Abilene, Texas Style
Easter Sunday, Abilene, Texas Style
Education, Abilene, Texas Style
Football Classic, Abilene, Texas Style
Football playoffs, Abilene, Texas Style
Golf tournament, Abilene, Texas Style
Resort Ranch, Abilene, Texas Style
Weekend getaway, Abilene, Texas Style
Corporate retreat, Abilene, Texas Style
Regional Outlet Mall, Abilene, Texas Style
Filming location, Abilene, Texas Style
Senior prom weekend, Abilene, Texas Style
Culture, Arts, Music, Abilene, Texas Style
Broadway road show, Abilene, Texas Style
Concerts, Abilene, Texas Style
Championship rodeo, Abilene, Texas Style
Livestock shows, Abilene, Texas Style
Horse shows, Abilene, Texas Style
Any kind of celebration, Abilene Texas Style
Barbecue championship, Abilene, Texas Style
Premier, Abilene, Texas Style
Partnership, Abilene, Texas Style
Conventions, Abilene, Texas Style
Drag racing, Abilene, Texas Style
NASCAR, Abilene, Texas Style
Worship, Abilene, Texas Style
Leadership, Abilene, Texas Style
Patriotism, Abilene, Texas Style
Business, Abilene, Texas Style
Caring telethon, Abilene, Texas Style
Historical pageant, Abilene, Texas Style
Lifestyle, Abilene, Texas Style
Pride, Abilene, Texas Style
So there are things that can be done with it. The project has not turned out to be a burning issue in the Abilene community. I've counted about a dozen letters to the editor, some in favor, some opposed, most against paying anybody money to create a brand. There were a couple of offers to do it for free, or have a community contest with the winner receiving not much more than recognition and a few free dinners at participating restaurants.
I would never do it for free, and no one else should, either. I do think six figures to Tennessee thinkers is excessive, but there is a thing called "perceived value," which gives a thing value in the public mind simply by placing a value on it. Branding Abilene is something that will have to have value, both in the public mind and the participators' mind. This is a business deal. A brand should prove to be worth millions of dollars to whatever the branded thing is. To a city like Abilene, it should be worth hundreds of millions of dollars, to spend on infrastructure, schools, culture, subsidized water rates, rehabbing the near north side before the wind blows it over. Whoever conceives it, the brand should not be cheap, and it certainly should not be provided free by its creator.
While we're on the subject, does Abilene have a city flag?
Which brings us back to the present day, and the saga's next chapter.
On Wednesday, Abilenian Betty Sims alerted me that North Star Destinations, after 17 months of research and creativity, had revealed its new brand for Abilene at a Tuesday press conference in the historic Paramount Theater.
The brand:
"Abilene Frontiering"
Response was immediate, and furious, and pretty funny. Scores of comments were posted at The Abilene Reporter-News by citizens appalled at the idea of becoming frontieringers. As an Abilenian living in California, I am in total sympathy and will renounce my Perini's club card should this brand go forward. I will give my lettering jacketings to Goodwill. If I saw "Abilene Frontiering" cold, without context, as on a highway billboard, I would think it was an ad for an Abilene travel agency booking tours to Alaska, not for a pretty nice town in West Central Texas.
Of course I remain committed to "Abilene, Texas Style," but the commitment that matters most today is the one against "Abilene Frontiering." For heavening's sake. No comment on the furor from Citying Halling yet.
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