I’m Not Ready for the Big Idea to Die

Just Do It. That was a Big Idea. It was simple and it stuck. I won’t begin to digest why this idea became a game-changer for one of the most recognizable brands in recent memory. But the question has recently surfaced, does the Big Idea still have impact as it did 20 years ago?

Picture this: Just Do It is written on an ad agency whiteboard in 2009—where’s the next place we go? Okay, nice tag line – where’s our Facebook and Twitter strategy? My guess is that most of us would immediately begin to reach for the media tool belt that has grown exponentially since the days this Big Idea changed the ad world. We divide the Big Idea into a series of little ideas. That may be the right move for the ad world we now live in. Mad Men’s big concept, big pitch, big win may be nothing more than a glorified memory in our business.

I’ve enjoyed reading and digesting the thoughts of brilliant minds in our industry on the subject. Mitch Joel and Edward Boches are two that sparked my thinking this past week. I can’t compete with the experience and wisdom these guys have to offer, and their arguments are certainly sound.

However, I’m not ready for the Big Idea to die.

I’ve spent the last few days in the Colorado Rocky Mountains (and haven’t consumed a single Coors Light). This is my favorite place on earth, as mentioned in my bio. I grew up, and still live, in Texas, but the mountains of Colorado are always in my dreams and serve as a constant source of inspiration for me. WARNING: I’m about to get a little vulnerable and expose some of my quirks – no judging, you have quirks of your own. Below are a few more things that I wish were a part of my everyday life. If you were to ask me, what inspires you?, when are you the most relaxed?, what do you look forward to?, my list would look something like this:

I love the mountains.

I love cold weather – really cold weather that depresses most people.

I love coffee shops with the A/C turned way up so I can at least pretend it’s cold outside (I’m sitting in one right now)

I love snow dogs – Alaskan Malamutes are the winners

I love coffee – not just the caffeine or the taste…I pour my coffee into an insulated tumbler each morning so it lasts upwards of two hours. It’s relaxing for me.

I love fireplaces

I love cold weather clothes – even though I have about 4 weeks of Texas “winter”, my closet is filled with jackets and sweaters as though I’m anxiously waiting for global cooling

I’m not making this up. I individually love all of these little things and look forward to any exposure I get to them. I’m in the mountains, in a coffee shop, drinking coffee, but it’s 90 degrees outside—I’ll take the compromise. I get a little excited every time I see an Alaskan Malamute or Husky up here. I wouldn’t even think about buying a house without a fireplace.

Notice that there is no hint of white beaches, blue water or piña colada’s on this list. Is it pure coincidence that I love all of these individual things that seem so related, or is there more to it? I would argue that I fell in love with a single culture, not a random list. The list I detailed above probably describes the life of more than one of the locals sitting around me in this ski town coffee shop. It’s not unrealistic or idealistic. It’s a culture that I wish I could be a part of. Since I’m not, I grapple for any of the individual items on that list and consider it a win.

I can’t let go of the Big Idea. As marketers, I believe that we can throw snow dogs, coffee shops and cold weather in front of our audiences, and we’ll probably entice them a little bit. These little ideas can certainly be successful, but if we refuse to let go of the whole ski-town culture—the Big Idea—we can not only entice them but invite them into something much bigger. I’m not going to make a major commitment for a fireplace, but you better believe I’ll change my behavior if you manage to make me part of the entire culture.

Nike could roll out a series of little ideas to get me to buy a pair of running shoes. Just Do It, on the other hand, doesn’t just make me want to buy a pair of running shoes—it makes me want to become an athlete. Then I’ll buy running shoes, clothes and Nike+ for the rest of my life. Even in 2009.

Creative Wannabe?

I’m a wannabe. Bet you’ve never heard that in anywhere close to a positive connotation, but I look on that self-descriptor fondly. I love the advertising business and participating in this dynamic digital world – I’d like to think I have some fresh thoughts about the business, but the day I look in the mirror and see an expert that’s perfectly content and ready to start the marketing and ad world text book, I’m done. That’s why I’ll always be a wannabe.

I wannabe a creative. I’ve never made a secret of this. I’ve known this about myself since I was 10 years old, but here’s the thing: just because my mind works that way doesn’t mean that’s where I can be most effective in the business. I work with the folks who concept, design and execute every day. They’re good. They’re very good. In fact, had I studied design in school as I often wished I had, I would not want to have to compete with them. Rather, let me work with that talent every day and manage the client relationships and experiences about which I’ve become so passionate. Let me stay focused on leadership, trends and become a student of the ad world. Yeah I’m jealous I can’t do what they can do, but I’m thankful I get to work with them and help sustain a business in marketing and advertising that allows them to do it every day.

I wannabe in Colorado. I’m in Houston, Texas, where the weather is literally damaging to the psyche. Want to go get the newspaper in the morning or check your mail? Better be prepared for a giant sweat stain on the small of your back. I love cold and overcast weather. I love coffee shops. I love the mountains. I love fireplaces. I love cold weather clothes. I even love snow dogs. But here I am in Houston, where the weather is a sacrifice, but the culture is strong. We’re not on Madison Avenue, but the artistic culture continues to grow and local clients are coming away from projects inspired. That’s fun.

I wannabe a professional musician. A perfect song (or one I perceive to be perfect) brings me to tears. Music expands my creative capacity far more than silence. When I listen to it, my thoughts and emotions are at the mercy of the next song. When I write it, I’m ultimately vulnerable but thankful for the ability to communicate in that way. When I play it, my mind is cleared of distraction, and that is a beautiful thing. And bringing it back to my business – my passion knows no bounds when it comes to the combination of music (sound design) and visuals to create an aesthetic and even emotional experience. Tell me this familiar spot has power without the perfect musical support. I want to create the music that manipulates our emotions all the time, but instead I zoom out and allow music to be a component of my focus. I’ve never been able to live zoomed in far enough to do this for a living.

I wannabe better. I love learning. Not necessarily in the academic sense (believe me, I’m glad that’s in the rearview mirror), but I would feel irresponsible for not using the free gift of knowledge and content that this new generation of our business provides. I now have free access to the brightest minds in our industry. While this fact describes a new reality to which we have to adapt for the sake of our clients, it also leaves us with zero excuse to not learn something new every day.

Welcome to my blog, Creative Wannabe. I’m thrilled to join the discussion.