Let me first say that my odds of getting a phone call from advertising’s The One Club are slightly more remote than a hi-def video of me windsurfing on the moon. Not so industry guru Jerry Della Femina, who was inducted into their Creative Hall of Fame last month as announced in this spread that ran in Ad Age. Read on.
His shop, Della Femina Rothschild Jeary, has churned out big ad hits for, well, decades. Including the notoriously hilarious Isuzu “lie” campaign that broke new ground back when broadcast was king. So far be it from me to rap a real creative heavyweights’ work that’s featured in perhaps the top forum of advertising greatness – except for that one ad shown that few will recognize for what it represents – pimping a disaster of a client that was a forerunner of many more to follow in this industry.
As the nineties were closing out, clone builders were cropping up in the weirdest places. Like Melbourne, Florida. Anyone around then remembers the conga line of investors sinking mostly legit cash into marginally vetted shops that promised the moon but were usually last seen slinking out of town after the sun went down. American Quantum was one of those shops.
Incorporated in 1997. Rolled up by 2001. This ad was the only work produced by Della Femina on an account valued at $6-mil plus when announced following lunch in New York’s Rainbow Room. Brilliant strategy – roll the dice on a Wall Street Journal one-time full page buy. Huh? That and other silly marketing blunders drew big yawns from the audience – if anyone even noticed.
That’s not all. The headline positioned the product to the just then awakening boomer market as something that would have them casting their Viagra down the sink. Who knew. A decade later the tables turn and it’s Viagra touting bikes in their ads as a perfect outcome to what you’ll expect when the wood returns. This was a campaign that got phoned in on the backs of the investors.
There’s more. Racing legend AJ Foyt was on the board of directors. The final outcome wasn’t too heavily followed by the industry but one version had the ceo hiding out in his NJ home while deputies tried to paper him for investment fraud. Not to mention Jim Feuling’s four-valve head. Had they sold enough bikes it’s probable the valvetrain would have become an issue.
It was a pattern that’s been repeated over and over as so-called ceos who are good enough at shaking the money tree think that’s all the marketing cred necessary to hit a triple when they can’t even see well enough to bunt.