Passing thought:
Every morning millions of men get into a scrape with a phenomenon known as hysteresis. If you shave with a multi-bladed razor you benefit from hysteresis. As so ably demonstrated in Gillette’s Trac II commercials in the early 70's: as the first blade cuts the whisker it also pulls it out for the second blade to slice it off and leave nothing but smooth skin. So effective was this animated demonstration, research showed that shavers actually visualized the process as they were shaving. Trac II and hysteresis were so successful, Gillette, ever alert to product improvements and company profits, soon followed up with Mach 3 (three blades) and now Fusion with four blades. But since hysteresis proved that two blades provided the world’s best shave, why the extra blades which are nothing more than sluggards? .Because men are willing to pay more for the perception of an even closer shave. As if that wasn’t enough, now Gillette sticks a AA battery in the handle of the razor and gets even more money for the tingle provided with Mach 3 Power and Fusion Power razors and blades. You get a hand vibrator and a pleasant buzz but probably no better shave than you get with the original TracII.. It seems that men are not averse to paying more money for an ever closer shave, perceived or imagined, in a process Gillette has termed, "face validity."
When the Friendly Lion , a.k.a. Bert Lahr passed away Y&rR and Frito Lay faced a serious dilemma. Lay’s Potato Chip commercials, starring Bert Lahr were working so well, i.e. selling so many potato chips, the challenge was to keep the momentum while finding a replacement for Lahr. I never thought the Lahr spots were that good but the likeability of Bert Lahr prevailed and the advertising became among the most popular of the time.
Buddy Hackett as a replacement for the inimitable Lahr was near or at the top of every decision maker on the Frito Lay account, including myself who had Hackett as first choice. With my experience writing cast commercials for many of TV’s leading shows, I became the designated front man for the Buddy Hackett project. My first assignment was to get Frito Lay to sign on for Hackett at the then generous fee of three thousand dollars for one year’s use of Buddy Hackett for advertising in any or all media. It was not the easiest sale I ever had to make. The decision makers in Dallas knew Hackett from his many appearances on Ed Sullivan and Johnny Carson. His Chinese waiter bit remains a classic comedic gem. He had also starred in Disney’s Love Bug. He was not unknown to the client, yet they had qualms about Hackett’s reputed intractability and his history of blue material in his Vegas act. I negotiated the contract for Buddy with his manager and lawyer, Paul Sherman who was to become a good friend. He was not the typical Hollywood barracuda. While extracting every advantage for his client, he was also fair and square with me. Paul Sherman, Wally Sheft, Buddy's accountant, and Joe Kelman, a close friend from Chicago were known as the Hack pack. As Buddy Hackett’s representative for advertising, I automatically qualified for membership in the Hack Pack. It was like getting a private pass to the exciting world of show business topped by the unique privilege of hanging out with Hackett in Las Vegas every time he appeared in Sin City, which was quite often.
With his rolypolly girth and a mouth that worked only out of one corner, Buddy Hackett had a head start on funny. Once, when he was playing the lounge at the Sahara hotel, Don Rickles saw Buddy in the audience, "Hey there's Buddy Hackett. Buddy why don't you paint stripes on your ass and go as a beach ball." When you hung out with Buddy, as I eventually did, you had to marvel at his improvised brilliance. Not a joke teller per se, but a story teller who drew inspiration from every day events and ordinary people and came up with unimaginalble twists that were hilarious. Buddy played Vegas a half dozen times a year and sold out every performance. I would watch as he convulsed audiences. Many times women would reluctantly leave the room to relieve themselves. He delighted in breaking me up which was constantly.
No sooner did we go into production of Lay's Potato Chip commercials, starring Buddy Hackett, than I became a mediator as well as creative director. The client had settled on the words they deemed inviolate in every spot, "so light, so thin, so crisp, you can eat a million of 'em but nobody can eat just one." Buddy thought by the time you say all that crap, the commercial is over. Where's the room for comedy he would ask. Therein lay the dichotomy. The client insisted on the sell. Buddy was playing for laughs, at the expense of the sell, if he had his way. And in the middle was Al Hampel. Every script I brought to Buddy created a tug, sell words or comedy. If I had not endeared myself to Buddy Hackett early in our relationship he would have thrown me out on my ass. Deep down he knew I was right. The obvious solution was compromise. With a soft spoken argument for an approach that featured both humor and sell, I eventually convinced the giant among comedians of the day to do it my way, shortchanging neither Lay's nor Buddy. Often I couldn't believe I was telling Buddy Hackett how to be funny in the context of delivering the selling idea. He bought my act and we went on to produce dozens of commercials and have a lot of fun in the process. After a while Buddy caught the hang of the compromise and he began to improvise funny spots that did not sacrifice those precious words, "So light, so thin, so crisp, you can eat a million of 'em but nobody can eat just one.." He even went as far as delivering a half dozen improvised commercials when only one was scheduled for production. We had a happy client in Dallas.
Best of all, the commercials were so successful (sales were at an all time high) that Frito Lay renewed Buddy's contract for another year at an increased fee. At one of Buddy's shows at the Sahara Hotel in Vegas, there was a bag of Lay's imprinted with "No Buddy Can East Just One" at every table and in the middle of his act, Buddy introduced me to the audience as the creator of the campaign. I stood to a rousing ovation in a packed showroom in Vegas. Can any other advertising copywriter make that claim?
In the meantime, back at Y&R, I had been promoted to senior vice president and copy chief, the head of a department of hugely talented copywriters, most of whom were older than I was. I was in my mid 30's and the youngest ever to have held the job of copy chief of Y&R. My dream of making it to Mad Ave was realized in a fashion I could never have envisioned, a job with a title which in those days represented one of the most highly respected positions in the world's most creative industry.
But alas, the Buddy Hackett saga came to an ignominious end. I had arranged to have Buddy perform at a Pepsi bottler's annual meeting in Texas. He put on a hell of a show. Delivering some of his raunchiest material, the bottlers laughed hysterically and gave Buddy a long standing ovation. Afterwards I had Buddy meet Don Kendall, Pepsi Cola's CEO (Pepsi owned Frito Lay). The two exchanged pleasantries but then Kendall said something to the effect that he enjoyed Buddy's work in the Lay's commercials, adding a but, " In some of those spots I couldn't make out what you were saying" There was a long pause while I went numb and Buddy got a faraway look in his eye. I knew what was coming. Hackett replied," Hey mister I don't know what the fuck you're talking about now."
Some weeks later Buddy was on Johnny Carson when he revealed he was no longer working for Lay's Potato Chips. " Those chips didn't taste good. I didn't like them." Carson said, " But Buddy you been telling me for years how great those chips were and nobody can eat just one. How come you've been hawking them for so long?
"Hey John, for what they were paying me I would eat dog shit." Buddy retained his record as the most bleeped guest ever on the Johnny Carson show.
