“This is the whole concept,” says Jack. “Anderson’s does no national advertising. It’s all regional, and it’s all based on the idea that most people think they’d be happier someplace else. If we shoot here, in Flynn’s, you can be sure the place will be full of young beautiful types, and when we run the ad in Cleveland or Missoula, it’s going to look like ‘Oh, yeah, that’s Boston, that’s just the way I thought it would look, and look at all those hip, gorgeous Boston people getting rich on high-tech whatever and drinking Anderson’s Boston Beer.’ You see? It’s genius. I’m not going to be modest. It’s genius. I mean, look around you. What do you see? Everybody here but us is from Ohio. Except for these Japanese guys.” He gesticulates toward a table at which two Japanese men in business suits are tying lobster bibs around their necks. His gesture catches their eye. “Ohio?” he says, nodding. “Ohio?” They nod and smile. “Well, them, too,” says Jack. “So you see? Everybody in Ohio wants to live in Boston. And that’s what we’re selling. We’re selling a young, successful life-style, and we’re selling Boston or Denver, and we’re selling every other city in America that anybody wants to live in.”
“What about beer? Aren’t you selling beer?” This comes from Richard, and there might be an edge to it, though he’s smiling in the boyish way he has.
“Hey. Of course I’m selling beer. And it’s good beer. I’m not kidding. It’s good beer.” He looks to Belinda, who nods enthusiastically. “Have you tried it?” he asks Richard.
“Oh, sure,” says Effie. “A few times. I like it, but it’s not that easy to find, you know.”
“Yeah, well, right now the Denver stuff is all you can get, all there is. But you wait till next summer. It’ll be Anderson’s from coast to coast. Let’s all have some. Waitress! Miss? Hoo-hah, waitress? Bring us some more of that dee-licious Anderson’s Denver Beer, will you? Bring five of them, okay? I want my friends to try it.” To them he says, “You’re going to like this. I wouldn’t push the crap if I thought it was crap.”
They all laugh at this, and he grins. “Well, maybe I would,” he says. “Who knows? Got to keep gas in the Porsche, right? Oh, but listen, listen. I have had this great idea. Great idea. I’m talking art now, social commentary, and an excellent way to write off a month’s vacation. I’m going to tour America, in the Porsche, and I’m going to visit a McDonald’s wherever I stop. Or a Burger King. Whatever.”
Matthew thinks of mentioning the graffito about used uniforms from Burger King. Not now, of course, but when Jack finishes. They might find it interesting, they might be interested in the whole idea of someone who goes around town writing these careful messages about himself and his life. When Jack finishes, he tells himself.
“And I’m going to interview the help,” Jack is saying. “Teenage kids, managerial trainees, housewives, golden geezers, whoever’s working there who will talk to me. Well, anybody who’s an interesting type, anyway, interesting looking. Interview them all in their McDonald’s uniforms, and get them to talk about what makes this part of the country, wherever I happen to be, this town or city, or region, whatever, different. Why is it special here? And I’ll shoot each McDonald’s as if it were the only one in the fucking world, you know? ‘Here we are in Muncie, Indiana.’ Title under the pimply face of some kid: ‘Muncie, Indiana.’ Maybe no voiceover. Maybe I’ll stay out of this completely. Just the people speaking for themselves. ‘Muncie is, well, gee, it’s just so swell. I can’t think why anybody’d ever want to live someplace else, like one of them cities.’ Or maybe the kid doesn’t say that, maybe he says, ‘Ah, Muncie sucks. Nothin’ ever happens here. I wish t’ hell I could get ’nough money together to get to New York.’ Then cut to New York. Black kid in his McDonald’s uniform. ‘Man, New York is the place. It is the only place.’ Mmm, I don’t know. That might be a little too manipulative. I don’t think I want to make the points as heavily as that, you know. Maybe just start in L. A., and drive. Shoot fifty Mickey D’s in order, and leave them in that order. I don’t know. I’ll have to see what comes up. I’m thinking of writing up a proposal for a grant for this. I’m not shitting you. I can see this on cable. Or public television, brought to you by a ‘grahnt from the Mowbil Oil Cawpawration,’ or maybe even a grahnt from McDonald’s. Or Anderson’s.”
Matthew isn’t sure what he thinks of this idea. It does sound like an interesting commentary on something, the homogenization of American life, the changing aspirations of American youth, the assumptions underlying the Anderson’s commercials, or something, but he isn’t sure whether Jack is serious.
“I think it has possibilities,” says Jack. He seems serious, but Matthew has been fooled before.
“So do I,” says Richard. “I really do. I think it makes a statement about the homogenization of American culture. Maybe about the survival of regional differences. Individuality. I think you’ve got something. I really do.”
Jack nods gravely. For a moment, Matthew wishes he’d spoken first. He’s sorry that he let Richard get in ahead of him with praise for Jack’s idea. Then Jack says, “Should be a great way to nail a lot of teenage girls, too.”
Effie punches him, Jack laughs, Richard frowns, and Matthew chuckles, glad that he kept his mouth shut.
In Topical Guide 442, Mark Dorset considers Advertising: Types of Appeal: Exoticism from this episode.
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🎧 442: “This is . . .”