Standing Ovations and the Decline of Civilization

Recently, I attended a Nashville Symphony performance of Mahler’s 2^nd Symphony, and for once, I actually wanted to stand and clap. And yet – for reasons explained below – I was reluctant to do so. So I hauled this one out of the Marketini Central Vault …

Let me put it right out there – I have absolutely had it with standing ovations and I simply refuse to do it again – at least not in Nashville – irrespective of the quality of what I’ve just seen on stage. It just makes me crazy! Give an outstanding performance and you get a standing ovation. Good performance? Standing ovation. So-so performance? Standing ovation. Lousy performance? Standing ovation. Stagger out there dead drunk, sing off-key with your shirttail sticking out though your open fly … and you’ll get a standing ovation. Have I made my point? People here in the medium-sized city we call home will stand up and clap for absolutely anything. I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more.

A real-life example of this foolishness … Recently, my sister Wesley Paine and I went to Nashville Ballet’s production of Carmina Burana. Let me tell you, it was spectacular! Paul Vasterling’s choreography was an amazing feat of kinetic and visual design. The dancers went all-out as usual. The symphony and symphony chorus and three terrific soloists were also in on the act. The whole thing made for a pretty jaw-dropping experience. So, here’s the dumb part. For the last 15 minutes or so, I’m sitting there fuming about the pre-destined standing ovation, knowing this was a performance I wouldn’t mind standing up for, but also knowing that since these ovations are given with complete abandon, even to the most dreary affairs, this one would be meaningless. Before the curtain had reached the floor, people were jumping up like they had been sitting in ejector seats, and Wesley and I sat there – clapping vigorously, I promise – in a dark hole made by standing bodies. Eventually we gave in and reluctantly stood so we could see the stage.

Don’t get me wrong here. I love Nashville Ballet! I think Paul Vasterling is a genius – not to  mention being a really nice guy. I know some of the dancers personally, and they are dedicated professionals. That said, the coerced standing ovation was against my principles and I was honked off when I did it.

This has to do with reason and balance and a little bit of discernment. If every performance gets a standing ovation, then what do you do when a performance – Camina Burana for example – really deserves one? Run up on stage and kiss everybody? Throw money? Throw your underwear (as a couple of girls I knew back in the 70s did at James Taylor)? When everything is special, nothing is special.

Which gets us to marketing.

The principle is the same as with ovations. If everything is absolutely outstanding all the time, it becomes the norm, and there’s no way for anything to stand out. You know how car dealers advertise. Many of them are always having a big, big sale. A total blow-out! Push, pull or drag it in folks! No reasonable offer refused! Nothing held back! We’re selling under invoice!!!! What does this mean to you? What it means to me is there’s no particularly advantageous day or weekend to rush right out and buy a new Chevy, even if I wanted one. Every day is just the same. It’s either always on sale or never on sale, but it’s always the same. Why rush? Why care which dealer you go to?

It’s the same thing in graphic design. Would you put every word of copy in boldface caps? And it’s the same with everything else – web site, brochure copy, PR, whatever. Give us a little balance, a little proportion and appropriate emphasis, please. It will actually get people to take notice and it will sell you and your story believably.

Cocktail Time!

Though you’ve probably never heard of it, this is one you’ll want to stand up and cheer for. And not only on the second or third round when spontaneous cheering for all sorts of things can break out. You’ll want to cheer on the very first icy sip. I always do.

The drink is called a Shinzer. I found it in a cocktail book my baby sister gave me for Christmas last year because it had a couple of recipes calling for limocello, and limoncello – a sweet lemon liqueur – isn’t the easiest thing to use effectively.

This one’s a hot weather winner because it combines gin and citrus, a flavor combo that has to have come directly from on high, and because it’s served in a tall glass full of ice. Which makes it more of a highball than a cocktail, but – really – who cares?

What you will care about is that first breathtaking – and I mean this almost literally – sip. The icy vapors rise up behind your palate and feel like they might shoot out your nose. That’s one big belt of refreshment!

Shinzer

They’re easy to make. Just remember 3-2-1.

• 3 parts ruby red grapefruit juice. Ideally you should squeeze it yourself, but I’ll forgive you (like I always forgive myself) for using the packaged kind, if – and only if – you use the fresh, not from concentrate, unsweetened kind that comes in a cardboard carton. All the other stuff is too sweet.
• 2 parts gin. Brand of your choice. Sometimes, depending on how hot it is, I bump up the gin just a bit. Makes it taste cooler.
• 1 part limoncello. There are a number of brands, all pretty similar, sitting there right now on your nearby liquor merchant’s shelf. Go relieve him of one. Or a couple.

Combine all these in a beaker, or a glass, or anything that holds liquid, along with ice and stir to get it cold. Then pour the mixture into a tall glass full – and I mean full – of ice.

Sip and shout!