Five Dollar Media Journal

Covert research is already underway to analyze consumer responses to advertising on a deeply psychological level. Conventional approaches such as focus groups, and less conventional ones such as dream therapy, do not always reflect the true opinions of test subjects. Researchers are now using MRI to better gauge how consumers receive certain products or commercials. BrightHouse Institute terms the process neuromarketing, reflecting the advanced approach to the classic business tool.

My nephew, though he loves to watch Food Network, is terrified by Iron Chef. I haven't figured it out—I thought it was the fact that the American version is a dub, therefore the voices don't correspond to the speaking faces. However, this is very common in commercials, especially in the one I previously mentioned. It might instead be the occasionally rough voices that spring up: "Fukui-san...," "15 minutes left," and etc.

All the onscreen action is familiar culinary fare: chopping, slicing, steaming pots, savoring. Perhaps it is the hectic pace induced by competition. But his father is an avid football fan, and would be watching images of men rushing into each other constantly. Then again, football has its lulls and pauses, officials advancing the chains, mulling over penalties, commentators addressing the audience.

I suppose I'm at a loss right now. The insights gained might be worthwhile to child psychologists, behavioral researchers, and children's content producers alike.

Figure I might as well keep up the criticisms.

The recent commercial for Embrel features R. A. Lindbergh, grandson of the famous Pan-Atlantic traveller. Fitting, since this year is the centennial of the virgin flight from Kitty Hawk. It features some majestic flight scenery, beautiful music, and a horrible account of the side-effects and reactions that could result from Embrel use.

I always found this peculiar of contemporary drug commercials. Other commercials make no mention of adverse effects or other negativity regarding their products, save for political advertisements. Any negativity that does find its way through is always directed to the competition. Since drug companies were ordered to address critical health issues in their advertisements, we have been bombarded with ever more elaborate texts that are highly collisive. The positive imagery and sounds only serve to heighten the collision.

A more interesting mobile musical performance is found in the DCI. The Championships for the world of competitive marching typically airs sometime during the holiday season on PBS. Over the summer, dozens of drum and bugle corps perform 15-minute routines. In this span of time, musicians and colorguard march in precise, intricate, ever-flowing formations, all while beating drums, blowing horns, or dancing and spinning flags, rifles or sabres. The musical repertoire often consists of classical symphonic works, jazz arrangements, or post-modern pieces, some so perplexing that only a drum corps enthusiast could fully appreciate it.

What an audience can easily gather is that these children (regulations limit members to those under 21 years of age) are giving difficult yet dazzling performances with seemingly unnatural ease. Corps members are often passionate about their craft—it takes passionate people to devote themselves to months of rigorous, exacting performance, many touring around the country, bearing triple-digit summers in the American South, the freezing nights on Northern gym floors, and hundreds of hours spent in buses travelling long roads.

What continues to surprise me is that commercial television has not sought production rights to this intense activity. ESPN will show everything from log-rolling to cheerleading to casino games, yet will not touch drum corps. It could be that DCI does not want to attract questionable attention from sponsors who have no link to the craft, or the even likelier possibility of said sponsors investing in a sport they can't otherwise profit from.

Judging from recent years, the drum corps world is willing to utilize commercial conventions to hype the competition—biographical spots air in between performances, intensifying the motivation and drama. Post-performance color commentary resembles that of instant replays on sports telecasts. What sort of devices would commercial television incorporate into an already polished product? Perhaps it is this sort of thinking that keeps DCI away from commercial networks...

Next Sunday, I'm marching in the San Jose Holiday Parade with the Spartan Band. This may be the last parade I ever march. It should be televised on KNTV-11, either live or delayed an hour.

I am reminded of the intrusiveness of the cameras. The production crews love to get in close with wide-angle shots, giving the viewer a sense of being on the street in the middle of the parade. And more often than not, that is where the cameramen are. It is very distracting to have someone so close while you're performing. Every year, someone has a run-in with the street camera. I feel it's a terrible risk for the cameramen, placing expensive equipment within striking distance of a flag, mace, or mallet.

I have not had many opportunities to watch from the other side of the camera, being the night owl I am. The magic of passing bands and floats is also somewhat lost on me. In fact, I find it all rather boring to watch. The only emotion that readily appears is a sense of sympathy for all the performers.

What is often lost on the audience is all the preparation that goes into a parade. Grade school bands spend the entire semester preparing for these, going over basics, rehearsing music, refining technique, and building endurance for what may be a five-mile trek in a stuffy uniform, bearing heavy equipment, breathing in unnatural ways. To my memory, only the Rose Parade has spots that highlight the preparations, whether it be decorating the floats with thousands of blossoms, preparing gigantic balloons and their handlers, or early morning band practices. Otherwise, the ephemeral nature of a parade broadcast does not capture this aspect of marching at all.

Saturday was spent watching TV with the folks. Food Network aired a few special episodes of Planet Food. Here, Merilees Parker travels the world, giving us a tour of different cultures and their respective culinary offerings.

It has a different feeling from previous shows I have watched with a similar goal in mind. Parker is effervescent, flowing with words and open with her experiences. From her reactions to the foods she samples, it seems as if nothing could put her off. Each taste and nibble is ecstatic, a reward to her.

I don't recall Julia Childs ever being so passionate about her cooking. I imagine that Parker's sentiments are geared mostly to encourage travel to these exotic locations, but it's hard to think about while you watch her in action. As she is basically a tourist, her wardrobe is quite daring compared to the smocks and aprons of traditional cooking show hosts. She carries herself much like a model would, save for her adventurous appetite. It's as if the producers had Wild On in mind, and have chosen to leverage Parker's charms in favor of her culinary expertise.

In one of the episodes, she joined Carnaval dancers in the Caribbean. Bare flesh and cooked meats shared screen time with each other. Hollers and yells were mixed in with "Mmm's" and "ooh's". To cap it off, Parker visits a few bars and drink vendors, making her closing statements while drunk and clinging to her perch atop a stone fence, party dress blowing in the wind.

The sensuality of the show is hard to argue with, considering that the prime function is being served. Parker is a food professional who happens to be beautiful and personable. The traditionally staid genres of do-it-yourself and craft shows benefit greatly from such recent experiments in presentation. It is still distant from those curious foreign shows where nude women advertise housewares and present the news, but sex continues to gain a foothold in American broadcasting.