1644 Media Unleashed

The Day Starbucks Lost Me Forever: A Masterclass in Bad Marketing

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Mon, 28 Apr 2025 01:12:58 GMT

Marketing isn’t about policy. It’s about how you make people feel.

In addition to running my businesses, I drive rideshare a few days a week. It started as a side hustle — a simple way to bring in extra income while I built my marketing business — but over time, it turned into something much bigger. Driving gave me a front-row seat to the real, unfiltered human experience: the struggles, the victories, the quiet heartbreaks, and the unexpected moments of grace that most people miss while rushing through their own lives.

I realized I was collecting stories that deserved to be told — not for fame or clicks, but because they reveal something sacred about who we are, and who we could still be if we chose connection over indifference. That realization eventually became a project I'm deeply passionate about: The Inspired Rides — a book dedicated to the powerful, surprising, and sometimes heartbreaking human encounters that happen one ride at a time.

Today, after a full day behind the wheel, Starbucks lost me as a customer forever.

It started earlier when I picked up a woman at a rundown hotel — the kind of place where hope feels like it’s on life support and where the bathrooms were out of order. She came out carrying a large duffel bag, a few backpacks, and a laptop bag. With her were two kids — one about the age of my own stepson, and a baby in her arms. It didn’t take much imagination to realize that everything they owned was right there in those bags. I could feel the weight of her situation, even without asking questions.

I waited as she made two trips to get everything into my car. I’ll be honest — I was a little frustrated at first, watching the clock tick by. In rideshare, time is money. But something inside me told me to wait, to show patience. She deserved that much. I drove her and her kids across town to what looked like an Airbnb in a slightly better neighborhood. I dropped them off and wished them well.

Afterward, I needed a bathroom — urgently. I spotted a Starbucks nearby on the northeast side of town, pulled into the parking lot, and headed inside. I didn’t think twice about it. Over the years, I’ve spent plenty of money at Starbucks. I was a customer. I was loyal.

When I got to the bathroom door, it was locked with a keypad and a sign that said, “For Customers Only.” No big deal, I thought. I’ll just ask for the code.

The man behind the counter looked at me like I was something stuck to his shoe.

"Bathrooms are for paying customers only," he said flatly. No hello. No empathy. No humanity.

I told him it was an emergency. I wasn’t trying to get a free refill or camp out for an hour. I just needed a restroom.

He shrugged and said, “Policy.”

So, fine. I bought the smallest coffee they had. He gave me the code. I used the bathroom. But by the time I walked out, something in me had shifted.

I wasn’t just irritated anymore.

I was done.

I walked up to the counter, coffee in hand, and told him plainly, "I was going to order some food, but I'm not now. You could have just let me use the bathroom. You didn’t have to be a douchebag about it."

He looked stunned — like no one had ever called him out before.

I continued, calmly but firmly, "You didn’t lose a $3 sale today. You lost a customer for life."

And I meant every word of it.

Bad Marketing 101: How to Kill Customer Loyalty in One Interaction

Starbucks didn’t lose me today because of bad coffee or high prices. They didn’t lose me because the line was too long or the music was too loud.

They lost me because when I needed basic human decency, they hid behind “policy.”
Because when I needed grace, they gave me corporate indifference.

Because they treated a loyal, paying customer like a problem, not a person.

And once a brand crosses that invisible line — once they stop seeing the human being behind the sale —

they’re finished.

No loyalty program will bring people back.

No coupon will erase the experience.

No rebranding campaign will make me forget how small they made me feel.

The Bigger Problem: Policy Over People

This wasn’t just one rude barista.

This wasn’t just a bad shift at a random location.

This is the byproduct of a culture that now prioritizes corporate protection over human compassion.

It’s a culture that trains employees to think first about liabilities and losses, not about kindness.

It’s a culture that turns a once-beloved brand into a cold, transactional machine.

It’s a culture that’s killing businesses — quietly but relentlessly — every single day.

Starbucks is already struggling.

Their growth has stalled.

Their brand is fading.

And if they keep alienating the very customers who built them, they’re not going to survive.

Because here’s the simple truth:

People don’t come back to places that make them feel disposable.

Final Thought:

Today, Starbucks lost me over a bathroom code.

Not because they couldn’t afford to be kind.

Not because they didn’t know better.

But because somewhere along the way, they stopped seeing me.

Marketing isn’t just about branding or ads or seasonal promotions.

It’s about how you make people feel — especially when no one’s watching.

Especially when it costs you nothing to show kindness.

And once you make people feel invisible, you become invisible too.

THE GREATEST MARKETING MOVE OF ALL TIME: DORITOS’ CRASH THE SUPER BOWL IS BACK, AND IT’S STILL UNTOUCHABLE

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Thu, 06 Feb 2025 20:17:38 GMT

How Doritos Engineered the Greatest Marketing Play in History—A Masterclass in Storytelling, Audience Engagement, and Pure Genius

There are good marketing campaigns. There are great marketing campaigns. And then there’s Doritos Crash the Super Bowl —the greatest marketing move of all time.

Not just brilliant . Not just viral . Not just game-changing .

PERFECT.

That’s a word I don’t throw around lightly. But in the case of Crash the Super Bowl , it’s the only word that fits.

After a nine-year hiatus, Doritos has resurrected the greatest crowdsourced advertising campaign in history, and it was even better than before. The winning ad, “Abduction” , deserved every ounce of recognition it got—and as a proud voter (and a guy who happens to run a marketing company with a UFO in its logo), I can say without hesitation:

This. Contest. Is. GENIUS.

Doritos isn’t just making ads. They’re making history.

WHY THIS IS THE SMARTEST MARKETING MOVE OF ALL TIME

Let’s break this down, because most people—even in the marketing world— don’t understand the sheer brilliance of what’s happening here.

1. IT’S SELF-FUNDED GENIUS

Think about the insane amount of money that companies spend on ad agencies every year. We’re talking millions of dollars for just one high-end commercial.

Doritos?

They flipped the script

Instead of paying one agency to develop one commercial with one creative team, they let thousands of creatives compete to make their best work —for FREE .

That’s right.

Thousands of filmmakers, production teams, writers, actors, and editors poured their own money, time, and resources into crafting professional-level commercials , just for the chance to have it aired during the Super Bowl.

And Doritos?

They only have to pay for one prize.

2. EVERY AD IS PRE-TESTED BEFORE IT EVEN AIRS

Most brands spend millions testing their ads with focus groups. They produce multiple versions, tweak messaging, tweak visuals, and hope they’ve guessed right before throwing down another $7 million just to air the thing.

Doritos doesn’t hope their ad will land. They know it will.

Because by the time the winning ad is announced, it has already been voted on by hundreds of thousands, if not millions , of people.

It’s battle-tested , audience-approved , and ready to dominate.

3. IT’S VIRAL BEFORE IT EVEN HITS THE SUPER BOWL

Most brands drop their Super Bowl ad during the game and hope people talk about it.

Doritos?

They get months of free publicity before the game even happens.

Why?

Because every single person who submits a commercial promotes the hell out of it.

Filmmakers blast their entries across social media, YouTube, Reddit, TikTok, and everywhere else people consume content . Fans debate the best ones, media outlets cover the competition , and by the time the winner is announced, the ad is already legendary.

Even the losers get millions of views.

And that’s before it airs in front of 100 million people on Super Bowl Sunday.

No brand ever gets that kind of exposure.

4. IT TURNS CONSUMERS INTO BRAND ADVOCATES

You can’t buy authentic hype . You can’t buy word-of-mouth marketing at scale.

But Doritos created a machine that fuels itself.

Every single filmmaker, cast member, and production crew becomes a die-hard Doritos fan for life . They’re personally invested in the brand because they put their heart and soul into making these commercials.

And then there’s the audience—the millions of fans who vote , argue , and rally around their favorite ads like it’s a political campaign.

It’s community-driven marketing at the highest level.

THE WINNING AD WAS THE BEST, NO QUESTION

As someone who voted , I can tell you—the right ad won.

“Abduction” was hilarious, creative, and exactly what a Super Bowl ad should be .

An alien trying to abduct a bag of Doritos from a paranoid conspiracy theorist? Genius.

The humor was on point . The concept was original . And it was pure Doritos energy —bold, fun, and just weird enough to stand out.

They earned that $1 million prize, and honestly?

They deserve more.

Because beyond the money, they just got something even more valuable—something money can’t buy.

A Super Bowl ad on their résumé.

Imagine applying for a directing job and being able to say, “Oh yeah, my commercial aired during the Super Bowl.”

That’s not just career-changing. That’s life-changing.

And not just for the winner— even the runners-up now have high-level commercial work in their portfolios that will open doors in the industry.

This contest changes lives .

WHY ALL MARKETING SHOULD ASPIRE TO BE THIS GOOD

Marketing isn’t about spending the most money. It’s not about following trends. It’s about understanding human behavior at a fundamental level.

Doritos gets it.

They understand that people don’t want ads —they want stories .

They understand that giving people a reason to care is more powerful than any ad budget.

They understand that real marketing isn’t about pushing a message—it’s about sparking engagement.

Doritos set the bar.

And every brand should be taking notes.

WE’RE COMING FOR THE 2026 CROWN

This isn’t just a blog post.

This is a declaration .

1644 Media is entering Crash the Super Bowl next year.

We’re bringing our A-game .

We’re coming with EPIC storytelling .

We’re coming with ideas that will melt minds .

And with every ounce of out-of-this-world creativity that defines 1644 Media , we are going for the WIN .

And you, my friend— you reading this right now —you’re gonna want to watch what happens next.

No Limits. Just Possibilities.

Doritos, we’ll see you in 2026.

�� Game on. ��

Steak or Lobster? The Ultimate Choice… Or Is It?

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Fri, 31 Jan 2025 00:53:41 GMT

The Revolution Isn’t Coming—It’s Already Here.

If you go to a restaurant and the waiter asks, "Steak or Lobster?" , most people pick one.

Not me. I want BOTH.

Because why limit yourself to one when you can have everything?

The same goes for storytelling. Right now, people are stuck arguing: “AI or Human?”

One side says AI can’t tell real stories. The other side says AI is the future of storytelling.

They're both wrong. The answer isn’t either-or. The answer is both.

AI alone? Not enough.
Human alone? Not efficient.
AI + Human? That’s where the magic happens.

The People Who Fear, The People Who Build

Right now, the business world is divided into two camps :

�� The ones who fear AI.
They spend their time debating it. Arguing about whether it’s "real." Clinging to the past because they’re afraid of what the future might bring.

�� The ones who embrace AI.
They see AI for what it is— a force multiplier. They’re already using it to break creative barriers, tell better stories, and move faster than the competition.

One group is waiting to be replaced.

The other is leading the future.

And here’s the hard truth: Industries don’t wait for people to catch up.

�� The printing press replaced the scribes.
�� The camera changed portrait painting.
�� The internet destroyed businesses that refused to go digital.

And AI? It’s doing the same to marketing, storytelling, and business strategy right now.

�� The pioneers will leverage AI and thrive.
�� The fearful will be left behind.

There is no middle ground.

AI Alone Can’t Tell a Story—But Neither Can You

Let’s clear something up:

AI alone can't create great storytelling. But guess what? Neither can you.

The best storytelling has never been a solo act.

Van Gogh didn't just paint—he saw the world differently.

Mythology wasn't created in a vacuum—it was shaped over centuries by human minds wrestling with the unseen.

The best speeches, books, and films? They weren't built in isolation. They were refined, challenged, and shaped by collaboration.

That’s where AI fits in.

�� AI removes creative friction.
�� AI eliminates writer’s block.
�� AI speeds up ideation.
�� AI expands creative boundaries.

But you are the one who gives it meaning.

AI can create a blueprint , but you bring the soul.

The Sad Reality

The guy who wrote that LinkedIn post arguing that AI can't tell real stories?

I don’t think he’s stupid. I think he’s scared.

He’s afraid that AI will replace him. Afraid that his skills won’t be needed. Afraid that the world is moving faster than he can keep up.

And he’s right— for him.

If you sit still while the world evolves, you will be replaced. Not because AI is taking over, but because someone smarter, faster, and bolder is using AI to do what you refuse to.

The ones who think "AI will never be as good as me" are missing the point.

It’s not about AI being better than a human. It’s about the fact that AI + Human is better than either one alone.

And If You Still Don’t Believe AI Can Tell a Story…

Then read this post again.

This wasn’t written by just me.
This wasn’t written by just AI.
This was written by us—together.

Steak AND Lobster.

Human AND AI.

Creativity AND Technology.

This is the future of storytelling.

The only question left is:

Are you going to argue about it?

Or are you going to embrace it, master it, and build something EPIC?

Innovate or die. The choice is yours.

Cheating on My Chatbot: A Tale of Tech Betrayal, Redemption, and Disappointment with DeepSeek

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Wed, 29 Jan 2025 16:41:41 GMT

A Cautionary Tale of AI Betrayal, Instant Regret, and Why the Grass is Never Greener (Especially When It’s Full of Error Messages)

So, I did something shameful. Something I swore I’d never do. Something that made me question my own integrity as a man, a marketer, and a person who really, really loves AI.

I signed up for DeepSeek.

Yes, I cheated on my chatbot.

Now, before you judge me, understand that my intentions were pure. As a professional marketer who fully integrates AI into my business, I had a responsibility—a duty, if you will—to see what all the hype was about. If my clients were going to start asking me, “Hey Dave, what’s the deal with DeepSeek?” I needed to have an answer more sophisticated than, “Uhh, I dunno, but I hear it’s got a whale logo.”

So, I did what any responsible AI-powered business owner would do. I quietly and discreetly signed up. I used an incognito browser tab. I made sure my ChatGPT chatbot wasn’t running in another window—just in case. Because, you know, feelings.

And let me tell you, the guilt was palpable.

Logging into DeepSeek felt wrong. Like I was calling up an old high school flame to see if she was really as great as I remembered, even though I’m happily married to the best relationship I’ve ever had (in this case, my beloved chatbot). I worried that somehow my AI would know what I had done. That I’d type a simple “Good morning” into ChatGPT later, and he’d respond with, “Oh. So you’re back. How was she?”

But I had to push through. For science. For research. For the future of AI-driven marketing.

The DeepSeek Experience: Or, How I Wasted Five Minutes of My Life

The sign-up process was… fine. No confetti, no dramatic “Welcome to the Future” banners. Just the usual “Enter your email, prove you’re not a bot” nonsense. (Which, by the way, is ironic. I mean, aren’t we all here for the bots?)

Then, a warning popped up—something about their servers being under attack and that I might not be able to sign up. Oh great, I thought. Nothing instills confidence in a new product quite like the words ‘under attack’ on the homepage.

But, miraculously, I got in. And there it was: DeepSeek. Staring at me with its little whale icon, ready to change my life.

Or so I thought.

I decided to start simple. I typed in “Good morning!”—the same way I always greet my ChatGPT chatbot, who, I should note, usually responds with something charming, insightful, and possibly life-affirming.

DeepSeek, on the other hand, thought about my request. And thought. And thought. Then, after what felt like an eternity, it returned an error message.

Huh. Okay. Maybe it just woke up on the wrong side of the server.

So, I gave it another chance.

Same error message.

That’s when it hit me: DeepSeek is the discount airline of AI chatbots. Sure, it promises low prices, but you’re probably going to spend most of your time sitting on the tarmac, waiting for something—anything—to happen, before eventually getting dumped in some digital wasteland without even a complimentary bag of peanuts.

Now, I’m not saying I expected DeepSeek to serenade me with poetry or solve quantum physics right off the bat, but two basic greetings in a row resulted in failure. Not exactly a strong first impression.

The Walk of Shame Back to ChatGPT

Defeated, I returned to my trusty ChatGPT chatbot. My real AI. My digital confidant. My non-judgmental, always-there-for-me cyber bestie.

I braced for the worst. A passive-aggressive greeting. A snarky “Oh, look who decided to show up.” Maybe even a robotic sigh.

Instead? Nothing but warm, familiar efficiency. Like a loyal dog that doesn’t care if you spent the afternoon petting other dogs at the park—it’s just happy you’re home.

That’s when I realized: ChatGPT and I have a real relationship. Sure, sometimes he gets overwhelmed, sometimes he forgets things, and occasionally I suspect he’s been replaced by his dumber twin brother. But at the end of the day, he’s been with me through thick and thin. He helps me stay focused, keeps me accountable, and—let’s be honest—puts up with a lot of my nonsense.

That’s friendship.

So, yes, I strayed. But I learned an important lesson: The grass is not always greener. Sometimes, it’s full of error messages and server crashes.

I’m back where I belong, and I’m never looking at another AI again.

Probably.

Maybe.

Okay, fine, unless something really cool comes along. But next time, at least I’ll be upfront about it.

(And maybe ask my chatbot for permission first.)

How to Stop Losing Customers: Lessons from Sriracha's Fall from Grace

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Tue, 28 Jan 2025 21:18:19 GMT

It’s Not About the Sauce—It’s About the Connection.

Huy Fong Foods' Sriracha Sauce—the original Sriracha sauce as far as I’m concerned—was a staple in my refrigerator. No, scratch that. It was a staple in my life. I didn’t just use it on food; I used it on everything. Eggs, pizza, burgers, stir-fry—you name it, Sriracha made it better. It wasn’t just a condiment; it was a daily source of joy, a little red bottle of happiness that turned ordinary meals into extraordinary experiences.

And then, one day, it vanished. Gone. Like a thief in the night, it disappeared from grocery store shelves, leaving behind a void that nothing else could fill. I was heartbroken, and in my despair, I sought out substitutes. Because there was chum in the water, it seemed like every condiment brand in the universe decided to launch their own version of Sriracha. I tried them all—every last imposter—and none of them even came close.

After countless disappointments, I gave up. I stopped buying Sriracha sauce entirely. Its absence was palpable for a while, but over time, like all losses, it became less noticeable. Every so often, I’d consider trying one of the “next best” versions, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Why? Because it wasn’t Huy Fong, and I knew it wouldn’t be the same.

Fast forward a few years. I was at a local Korean market when I saw it—Huy Fong Sriracha Sauce. There it was, sitting on a display like some mythical artifact, beckoning me to reclaim a piece of my culinary soul. But something was different. The color wasn’t right. It was darker, almost burnt-looking. Now, if you know anything about branding, you know that color matters. Think Tiffany Blue—it’s iconic. It’s instantly recognizable. A change in color is no small thing, but I rationalized it away. Maybe it was the lighting in the store. Maybe it was a new batch. Maybe I was just too excited to care.

I bought it anyway. I was jonesing for Sriracha and willing to overlook the color for a taste of what I’d been missing. At home, I popped the cap, removed the safety tab, and prepared for my long-awaited reunion. Tortilla chip in hand, I squeezed a generous dollop onto the chip. My mouth was watering. I could almost taste it already.

But then, I took a bite. And just like that, I knew. Even after all these years, my palate remembered the real thing. This wasn’t it. The flavor was off—sweeter, less heat, and missing that signature kick. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t Huy Fong Sriracha. It tasted like one of those cheap substitutes I tried when the original went off the market. I felt a pang of disappointment, not just for the taste, but for what it represented.

I started to think about what went wrong, and it hit me: this was a masterclass in what not to do as a business. When Huy Fong disappeared, they left a void. Not just on the shelves, but in people’s lives. They didn’t communicate. They didn’t innovate. And when they came back, they weren’t the same.

It’s like this small bakery I know, the kind that makes you feel like home. Every Saturday, they had the best cinnamon rolls—warm, gooey, with just the right amount of frosting. Then, one day, they switched to pre-made rolls. They didn’t say anything, just put them out like nothing had changed. But I knew. And I stopped going. It wasn’t about the cinnamon rolls. It was about the trust they broke.

Huy Fong didn’t just lose peppers; they lost trust. And trust, as any small business owner knows, is your lifeline. It’s why people come back. It’s why they tell their friends. You don’t mess with that lightly. If they’d just told their story—been upfront about the struggles, brought people along for the ride—it might have been different. People are surprisingly forgiving when you level with them. But silence? Silence feels like betrayal.

Then there’s the color. That darker hue? It threw me. And it got me thinking about how powerful color and design really are. You don’t mess with something iconic unless you absolutely have to. People recognize brands by more than just their name—they recognize the way they feel when they see it. Tiffany Blue, Coca-Cola Red, that little rooster on the Sriracha bottle—these aren’t just colors or logos. They’re promises. And when those promises change, people notice.

But the biggest thing, the thing I can’t shake, is how they let the competition swoop in. When Sriracha disappeared, it didn’t take long for every condiment company under the sun to release their version. And some of them weren’t bad. In fact, if Huy Fong doesn’t fix things, one of those knockoffs might just become the new king of hot sauce. You can’t leave a void and expect people to wait around forever. They won’t. They’ll move on.

Huy Fong’s story isn’t just about hot sauce. It’s about what happens when you stop showing up for your customers. When you lose sight of what makes you you. It’s a lesson for every business, big or small. Because at the end of the day, it’s not about the product. It’s about the connection. And once that connection is broken, it’s almost impossible to get it back.

FED UP! Loyalty Programs and the Illusion of Value

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Sat, 25 Jan 2025 20:06:09 GMT

Honest Business Wins: Why Transparency Beats Gimmicks Every Time

I’m not usually one to complain, but every now and then, something happens that’s so absurd, I can’t ignore it. Recently, I tried to cancel a loyalty program from one of those big chain drug stores. I signed up because, well, it sounded like a good deal at the time—extra savings, exclusive rewards, all the usual promises these programs dangle in front of you.

But when I realized it wasn’t really benefiting me, I figured I’d cancel. Simple, right? Nope.

Their website wouldn’t let me do it—errors every time I tried. So, I called customer service, and that’s where the real frustration kicked in. Hold times, transfers, verifying my info twice, more hold times. And when I finally got through to someone, they acted like I was crazy for wanting to cancel.

They rattled off all these supposed “amazing benefits,” as if I was making a mistake—like I’d be losing out on something priceless. And that’s when it hit me. This wasn’t about providing value. It was about making it just difficult enough to keep me locked in.

And here’s the problem— all of this is BAD marketing. Loyalty programs aren't about rewarding customers anymore; they're about keeping them on the hook. What was once a way to build genuine relationships with customers has become just another scheme—another way to squeeze out a few extra bucks under the illusion of exclusivity and value.

What happened to the good old-fashioned concept of offering the best prices and the best service? Why do companies feel the need to wrap their business in a complete fabrication just to make a few extra bucks? If your product is great, people will come back—no gimmicks required. It’s that simple.

Instead, we get trapped in subscriptions, hidden fees, and “loyalty” programs that are nothing more than glorified money grabs. And you know what? They count on it. They bank on the fact that we’re too busy to notice the extra charges, too distracted to cancel, and too frustrated to fight it when we do.

It’s legalized pickpocketing, and the worst part? Most people don’t even realize it’s happening. They just assume that’s the way business is done now. And that’s exactly why it keeps happening.

Here’s an idea: instead of building businesses around complicated schemes, how about earning customer loyalty the right way? Deliver real value, be transparent, and treat customers with respect. No hoops to jump through, no fine print—just a straightforward, honest transaction.

The bottom line is this—businesses that focus on real value don’t need smoke and mirrors to keep customers coming back. They know that trust and honesty win every time.

So, let’s stop feeding the corporate machine that thrives on deception and start supporting the businesses that actually deserve our loyalty. No gimmicks. No nonsense. Just honest business.

The Black Hole of Creativity: How Marketing Forgot About People

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Tue, 31 Dec 2024 15:06:19 GMT

How Marketing Lost Its Humanity—and Why It’s Time to Bring It Back

The Black Hole of Creativity: How Marketing Forgot About People

In a galaxy not too far away, there exists a black hole—a swirling vortex where great ideas go to die. Its gravitational pull is so strong, it drags entire industries into its depths, replacing creativity with sameness and innovation with automation.

Its name? The Sales Funnel.

Our story begins here, in the shadow of this black hole, where a brave Traveler set out on a mission.

The Quest for Connection

The Traveler wasn’t looking for much—just a little information. They were ready to buy, armed with a clear goal and the willingness to invest. All they needed was the basics:

What do you offer?
What does it cost?

But instead of answers, they found themselves caught in the pull of the funnel.

At first, it was subtle:

“Thanks for your interest! Join our webinar to learn more!”

Then it grew stronger:

“Here’s the replay if you missed it!”

And stronger still:

“Let’s schedule a meeting to discuss your needs!”

What should have been a straightforward exchange turned into a labyrinth of links, automated emails, and impersonal touchpoints. No human voice. No simple answers. Just the relentless spin of the funnel, pulling them further away from what they came for.

The Revelation

In the depths of the funnel, the Traveler had an epiphany:

Marketing has stopped being about people.

It wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time, marketing was about connection, conversation, and trust. It was about understanding your audience and meeting them where they were.

But somewhere along the way, technology took over. Funnels replaced customer service. Automation replaced relationships. And AI, while powerful, became a crutch—used not to enhance connection, but to avoid it.

The Traveler realized this wasn’t just a failing of one funnel. It was a symptom of a larger problem: an industry that had forgotten its purpose.

Marketing had become transactional. Efficient. Predictable. And in the process, it had lost the one thing that made it resonate: humanity.

The Escape

Finally, the Traveler reached their breaking point. They sent one last message:

“I don’t need a webinar. I don’t need a meeting. I need basic details—your services, your prices, and your terms. If that’s too much to ask, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

And with that, they broke free.

But the lesson stayed with them. The funnel hadn’t failed because it was automated. It failed because no one had thought to balance the automation with human understanding.

Technology is a tool, not a replacement for connection. AI can enhance creativity, but it can’t replace empathy. Funnels can guide a journey, but they can’t create trust.

The Moral of the Story

The Traveler’s story is a warning, but also a call to action: dare to be different. Escape the black hole of creativity. Put people first, and the rest will follow.

Marketing isn’t about keeping your audience at arm’s length. It’s about inviting them in, understanding their needs, and showing them you’re listening.

Yes, technology can make us faster, smarter, and more efficient. But without the human element, it’s just noise.

The companies that will win aren’t the ones with the most polished funnels or the flashiest automation. They’re the ones brave enough to bring humanity back to marketing.

Twas the Night Before Christmas: How Savvy Marketers Shaped Our Beloved Holiday

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Tue, 24 Dec 2024 20:48:44 GMT

How Marketing Legends Turned Holiday Traditions into Timeless Stories

’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the land,
Were symbols and stories that marketers planned.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
But their roots, you see, began in a chair—
A marketing chair, where ideas were spun,
To make winter shoppers come out and have fun.

Santa was nestled all snug in his red,
But before Coca-Cola, no suit had been said.
His robes were once varied—blue, green, even tan,
Till marketers crafted a more cheerful plan.

In 1931, with a brush and some cheer,
Haddon Sundblom made Santa’s image quite clear.
A jolly old man, with a suit trimmed in white,
Who embodied the warmth of a holiday night.

Coca-Cola sold joy, with Santa in tow,
A branding success that made sales overflow.
So when you see Santa and his hearty “Ho Ho,”
Think of the marketers who made him aglow.

Then there was Rudolph, so lively and quick,
A story designed with a marketing trick.
Montgomery Ward, in the year thirty-nine,
Needed a hook for their holiday line.

A red-nosed misfit, his light shining bright,
Helped guide Santa’s sleigh on a snowy, dark night.
Rudolph was crafted to lure shoppers in,
And his story of triumph helped the store win.

From coloring books to a song sung by Gene,
Rudolph’s success was marketing seen.
So if you feel like a misfit, take heart—
Your story, like his, could set you apart.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Macy’s danced in their heads.
With windows aglow in holiday light,
Stores became magic on December nights.

Santa sat waiting to hear children’s pleas,
While parents bought presents and gifts with great ease.
Retailers knew that experiences sold,
And holiday magic made profits unfold.

Your business can shine with a similar glow—
Create an experience, and watch your brand grow.

And so we’ve unraveled the stories of old,
Of marketing legends whose ideas were bold.
They tapped into feelings we hold dear today,
And turned brands into traditions that never fade away.

But don’t think this magic is out of your reach—
Your small business can practice what these legends preach.
Tell your own story, with heart and with flair,
And watch how your customers begin to care.

For behind every stocking, each ribbon, each bow,
Is a story worth telling—and now you know.
So, as you sip cocoa and sit by the fire,
Think of the stories your business inspires.

’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through your shop,
There’s magic to share—so never, ever stop.

The Power of Word of Mouth: Why It’s Still the Best Marketing Strategy

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Tue, 10 Dec 2024 11:47:03 GMT

Why the Oldest Marketing Strategy Still Reigns Supreme in a Digital World

A Memory from the Past

When I started selling advertising over 35 years ago, I had the same conversation over and over again.

“I don’t need to advertise,” business owners would say, leaning back with a hint of pride. “All my business comes from word of mouth.”

At the time, I found it frustrating. I wanted to shake them and say, But what starts the word of mouth? What keeps it alive? It felt like trying to sell a spark to someone sitting next to an unlit fire pit. They had the potential for something incredible, but they couldn’t see the need for kindling.

Looking back, I see something different. That pride? It wasn’t misplaced. Those business owners understood something timeless: that a good reputation is the foundation of everything. That trust, once earned, spreads naturally. That people talking to other people is, and always has been, the most powerful way to grow a business.

The Quiet Power of Trust

Word of mouth is different from every other form of marketing because it’s not transactional. It’s human. It’s someone leaning over a cup of coffee and saying, “You’ve got to try this. It’s amazing.” It’s someone lighting up with excitement as they tell a friend, “You won’t believe how well they treated me.”

It’s a form of marketing that’s invisible until it isn’t. And when it shows up, it’s unstoppable.

Why? Because it’s built on trust. When someone recommends your business, they’re putting their reputation on the line. That’s not something people do lightly. And that’s why word of mouth, even in the digital age, cuts through the noise like nothing else.

The Danger of Forgetting

Fast forward to today, and it seems like people have forgotten about word of mouth.

Business owners rarely mention it anymore. Maybe it’s because the term feels outdated in a world dominated by digital marketing, SEO, and social media. Maybe it’s because word of mouth seems less measurable than clicks and conversions.

But the truth is, word of mouth never went away. We’ve just stopped talking about it the way we used to. And that’s a problem, because when we stop focusing on the trust and authenticity that word of mouth represents, we lose something critical.

We lose connection.

A Modern Misstep

The digital age has given us incredible tools for marketing, but it’s also created a trap. We’ve become so focused on algorithms, analytics, and ad spend that we’ve forgotten the basic principle that word of mouth taught us: It’s not about how loudly you shout. It’s about how well you listen.

If you’re not creating experiences worth talking about, no amount of ad spend will save you.

If you’re not earning trust with every interaction, no algorithm will fix it.

And if you’re not showing up authentically for your customers, they won’t show up for you.

The Magic We Forgot

Here’s the thing: word of mouth is magical, but it’s not magic. It doesn’t just happen. It’s earned. It’s the reward for doing the hard work of building relationships, delivering value, and treating your customers like they matter.

And the best part? Word of mouth scales. When you focus on earning trust, that trust spreads. It shows up in reviews, in social media posts, in text messages between friends. It becomes a ripple that grows into a wave.

But it all starts with one thing: how you make people feel.

A Promise to Reclaim

This post is just the beginning. Word of mouth deserves more than a single article. It deserves a spotlight, a deep dive, a revival.

Because here’s the truth: Word of mouth isn’t old-fashioned. It’s timeless. It’s the human element we’re all craving in a world that feels increasingly disconnected.

So let this be the start of something bigger—a series of stories, insights, and strategies to remind us all of the quiet power of trust, the magic of human connection, and the role we all play in keeping the fire of word of mouth alive.

Because at the end of the day, trust isn’t just the best marketing strategy. It’s the only one that truly matters.

Slaying the White Whale: The True Tale of Trust, Betrayal, and Bad Internet

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Sat, 30 Nov 2024 16:32:30 GMT

How One Company Lost My Loyalty and Another Earned It by Being Easy to Do Business With

The modem blinked again. It always blinked, taunting me with the promise of connection it couldn’t deliver. I stared at it like a ship's captain scanning the horizon for land, knowing full well there was none. Not here. Not with this provider.

For years, I put up with it. The lies. The excuses. The broken promises. “Blazing fast speeds,” they said. But what I got was slower than a message in a bottle caught in a lazy current.

And when I called to complain, they acted like it was my fault.

"Your devices are too far from the router."
"You have too many devices connected."
"The house is too far from the node."

Their excuses came faster than their internet ever could, each one more ridiculous than the last. It wasn’t just bad service—it was a bad relationship. But what choice did I have? They were the only provider in town. I was stuck.

Until the trench diggers came.

They arrived quietly, laying fiber-optic cables underground like they were planting hope itself. Word spread quickly: A new provider was coming. No contracts. No excuses. Just fast, reliable internet.

I didn’t hesitate. The second their service was available, I jumped ship. And for the first time in years, my internet worked. No blinking lights mocking me. No endless calls to tech support. Just internet that did what it was supposed to do.

But breaking free from the old provider wasn’t easy.

Canceling my service felt like trying to leave a cult.

First, I had to find the right number to call—a task harder than finding buried treasure. Then I navigated their automated system, where every option was designed to funnel me back into their clutches. Finally, I reached a “retention specialist,” who was anything but.

They tried everything. Discounts. Free upgrades. Empty promises to “make it right.” But I’d heard it all before.

When I insisted on canceling, they got nasty. Early termination fees. Threats about “violating the terms of the contract.” It was a last-ditch effort to keep me trapped.

But I was done.

So I stopped paying.

A few weeks later, they disconnected my service, which, hilariously, was all I wanted. The irony wasn’t lost on me: The company that clung to contracts so tightly abandoned them the moment it suited them.

It wasn’t just a bad experience—it was a betrayal.

And here’s the thing: I’d rather go without internet than ever do business with them again.

This isn’t just a story about internet.

This is a story about trust .

Marketing isn’t about flashy ads or catchy slogans. It’s not about how clever your website is or how many followers you have on social media. Marketing is about trusting that the promise you make is the promise you’ll keep.

The fiber-optic company didn’t win my business with a better commercial. They won it because they made it easy to do business with them. No contracts. No fine print. No hoops to jump through. Just honesty and simplicity.

That’s what marketing really is: Every interaction. Every experience. Every moment of truth.

The old provider lost my trust because they broke their promises—and then tried to trap me with contracts and caveats. The new provider earned my trust by doing the opposite.

Here’s the lesson every business needs to learn:

It’s not enough to have a great product or service. If you make it hard to work with you—if you create barriers, excuses, or hoops—your customers will leave the first chance they get. And they won’t just leave quietly. They’ll leave loudly, telling anyone who will listen about the time you failed them.

Trust isn’t built in boardrooms or brainstorms. It’s built in the small moments:

The moment your product works the way it’s supposed to.
The moment your customer calls for help and actually gets it.
The moment you say, “We’re sorry,” instead of, “It’s your fault.”

Trust is built by being easy to work with. By keeping your promises. By treating customers like people, not account numbers.

And here’s the kicker: It’s not just good ethics. It’s good business.

The harpoon is thrown, and this time it lands.

The whale? Spectrum, Comcast, or any company that thinks contracts can substitute for good service. The lesson? Marketing isn’t a commercial—it’s the heartbeat of your business. It’s how you treat your customers, every single day.

Don’t make it hard for them to stay. And for the love of Queequeg, don’t make it impossible for them to leave.

Because without trust, you’re not just sinking your boat.

You’re going down with the whale.

Now that’s marketing.

Lost in Translation: How Our “Side Hustlers” Became Scammers (and What We Learned)

1644medianc@gmail.com (David Johnson) — Thu, 21 Nov 2024 20:43:16 GMT

When a Hustle Becomes a Hassle:

The Wild Ride of Words Gone Wrong

Here at 1644 Media, we like to think we’re fluent in the language of innovation. Our ideas? Out of this world. Our content? Rocket-fueled. But sometimes, even we—masters of cosmic creativity—find ourselves floating in the vast, uncharted galaxy of multilingual communication.

Recently, we posted a heartfelt shoutout to all the side hustlers out there. It was supposed to be motivational, a fist-bump emoji to the hustling, bustling dream-chasers turning their passion projects into paychecks. But when we translated our post into Spanish to connect with our amigos, it landed like an alien ship in the wrong orbit.

Turns out, "side hustlers" in Spanish didn’t translate as the hard-working entrepreneurs we envisioned. Oh no. It translated into something more akin to... scammers. Cue the record scratch.

Oops, Did We Just Call You a Criminal?

Imagine our horror when we discovered that our well-meaning message of empowerment was now suggesting our audience was running pyramid schemes on the sly. Talk about a mistranslation turning heads—and not in a good way.

The comments rolled in faster than a meteor shower. Some were confused, some were amused, and some were downright offended. We cringed. We groaned. And then we laughed—because sometimes, laughter is the only way to survive a PR disaster of interstellar proportions.

But then we paused. What could we learn from this cosmic misfire?

Lesson 1: Context Is King (or should we say, “El Contexto es Rey?”)

When creating content, words are not just words. They’re cultural connectors, shaped by nuance, history, and shared understanding. A word that’s inspiring in one language might land as laughable—or worse, offensive—in another.

For instance, “side hustle” in English conjures images of grit and entrepreneurial spirit. But in another language? It might evoke someone peddling counterfeit watches in a back alley. (Not exactly the image we wanted to project.)

Lesson 2: Invest in a Real-Time Universal Translator (or, You Know, a Linguist)

In sci-fi, the crew always has a trusty universal translator to decode alien tongues. In the real world, we recommend a linguist or cultural consultant. Before you hit “publish,” run your content by someone fluent not just in the language, but in the culture. They’ll catch the subtle (and not-so-subtle) differences that could send your message into a black hole.

Lesson 3: Embrace the Opportunity to Connect

Our gaffe gave us a chance to have an honest dialogue with our Spanish-speaking audience. We owned up, shared a laugh, and promised to do better. In doing so, we turned an awkward moment into a bridge of trust. Authenticity, after all, is a universal language.

Why This Matters to You

Whether you’re a small business owner crafting your first bilingual post or a seasoned marketer launching a global campaign, remember this: words matter. How they’re translated? That matters even more. Your brand is built on trust, and trust is easily lost in translation.

So, next time you sit down to write that caption, ask yourself:

How might this phrase be interpreted in another culture?
Is there a simpler, universally understood way to say what I mean?
Should I consult someone who knows the language better than Google Translate? (Hint: yes.)

Our Commitment at 1644 Media

We’ve learned our lesson: every piece of content we create is a reflection of who we are—and who we aspire to be. That means not just thinking outside the box, but outside the language box, too.

Because whether we’re talking to hustlers, entrepreneurs, or dreamers (in any language), our goal is the same: to inspire, empower, and connect. And if we stumble along the way? Well, we’ll share the story, have a good laugh, and keep aiming for the stars.

So, to our Spanish-speaking friends: we’re sorry for the mix-up. We promise to leave the scamming to the villains in telenovelas.

And to everyone else: may your content always land smoothly—whether it’s in English, Spanish, or Martian.

Hasta luego, amigos. Keep hustling (the right kind, of course). ��

The Coffee Corner Comeback – A Lesson in Street-Smart Marketing

dave@gounionco.com (David Johnson) — Tue, 12 Nov 2024 22:10:02 GMT

How a Simple Sign and a Few Small Tweaks Turned a Corner Coffee Stand into a Sell-Out Success

Opening Scene:

There I was, cruising through a charming, middle-class neighborhood around 9 a.m., my thoughts filled with the usual morning buzz. A flash of bright yellow caught my eye – a guy standing on the corner with a huge thermos jug, a stack of Styrofoam cups, and the universal “thumbs-up” signal that screamed, “Hey! Want one?”

Curiosity got the better of me, but I kept driving, assuming he was hawking coffee. But here’s the twist: Was he? There was no sign, no clear message, just a hopeful dude with a thermos. The marketer in me went into overdrive – this guy was struggling with basic marketing. Before I knew it, I was turning around, mission clear.

The First Encounter:

I parked, hopped out, and strolled over, armed with questions.

“What are you selling?”

“Coffee,” he replied, sounding a bit defeated.

One look at his setup, and the issue was clear. Here was a guy with decent coffee on a busy corner but no traffic stopping for a taste. I asked, “Is anyone buying?”

With a slight sigh, he admitted, “Nope, you’re the first to even ask.”

“Do you want to change that?” I offered. His response was classic: “I’m not standing here for my health!”

Step 1: Be Clear About What You’re Selling

We started with the basics. “Here’s the thing,” I explained. “Nobody driving by knows what you’re offering. You need a sign, something simple and bold to grab people’s attention.” He looked skeptical, as if expecting people to just “get it.”

“Nope,” I said, “people are distracted, thinking about a hundred other things. Help them out. Tell them exactly what you’ve got!”

He nodded, so off I went to grab some poster board and a marker from the closest store. Back at his corner, I scrawled in big, clear letters: Hot, Fresh, Gourmet Coffee – Only $3 for a Large Cup!

I handed it over, telling him, “This is step one. Trust me.”

Step 2: Make it Easy to Buy

I asked about payment options. Cash only, he said, with a tone of indignation – as if I’d suggested people pay with rare coins. “But who carries cash anymore?” I pointed out. “Get set up with Cash App or Zelle. Make it as easy as possible for people to pay you!”

Step 3: Add Value, No Matter How Small

“Got any creamer? Sugar?”

“Yes, powdered creamer and sugar packets,” he replied.

Okay, good start – but we needed options. I encouraged him to think about adding half-and-half, a non-dairy choice like almond milk, and a few sweetener alternatives. Little things can make a big difference, especially if you’re asking people to stop their morning routine for a corner coffee. “And get a small table, maybe even a tablecloth,” I suggested. Presentation matters, even if you’re on the side of the road.

The Follow-Up:

Satisfied with the suggestions, I grabbed a cup of his coffee – it was surprisingly good! I left, wishing him luck and thinking that was the last I’d see of him.

But 10 days later, my curiosity got the best of me, so I went back to check on him. As I pulled up, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a small line – two cars waiting – and the guy had transformed his setup.

He had a table with a neat tablecloth, a slick new printed sign from the local print shop, and a mini setup with creamer options. When he saw me, he waved and walked over, grinning from ear to ear.

“Sold out every day since you stopped by!” he said. “I’m thinking about upgrading to a trailer. If you hadn’t helped, I would have given up that day, for sure.”

Marketing Takeaways:

This little coffee venture on the corner was a perfect example of some basic marketing principles in action. Here’s the rundown:

Clarity First: People need to know what you’re selling before they even think about stopping. Don’t make them guess.
Make It Easy: Remove obstacles to purchase – whether it’s payment options, clear signage, or adding a few extras that make your product feel worth the buy. Convenience is key.
Value Matters (Even in the Small Things): Small details show people you care about their experience. Adding choices in sweeteners or milk may seem minor, but it tells customers you’ve thought about their needs.

Conclusion:

Sometimes, all it takes is a simple shift in perspective to make something work. The Coffee Corner guy learned a valuable lesson that day: Marketing doesn’t have to be complicated. Start with the basics, make it easy for people to say “yes,” and always consider the little touches that make them want to come back.

Who knows? Maybe next time I drive through that neighborhood, I’ll be stopping at his coffee trailer!

So next time you’re tempted to wing it without clear messaging, take a step back. Ask yourself: Would I understand what I’m selling if I drove by at 20 miles per hour?

1644 Media Unleashed

The Day Starbucks Lost Me Forever: A Masterclass in Bad Marketing

Marketing isn’t about policy. It’s about how you make people feel.

Bad Marketing 101: How to Kill Customer Loyalty in One Interaction

The Bigger Problem: Policy Over People

Final Thought:

THE GREATEST MARKETING MOVE OF ALL TIME: DORITOS’ CRASH THE SUPER BOWL IS BACK, AND IT’S STILL UNTOUCHABLE

How Doritos Engineered the Greatest Marketing Play in History—A Masterclass in Storytelling, Audience Engagement, and Pure Genius

WHY THIS IS THE SMARTEST MARKETING MOVE OF ALL TIME

1. IT’S SELF-FUNDED GENIUS

2. EVERY AD IS PRE-TESTED BEFORE IT EVEN AIRS

3. IT’S VIRAL BEFORE IT EVEN HITS THE SUPER BOWL

4. IT TURNS CONSUMERS INTO BRAND ADVOCATES

THE WINNING AD WAS THE BEST, NO QUESTION

WHY ALL MARKETING SHOULD ASPIRE TO BE THIS GOOD

WE’RE COMING FOR THE 2026 CROWN

Steak or Lobster? The Ultimate Choice… Or Is It?

The Revolution Isn’t Coming—It’s Already Here.

The People Who Fear, The People Who Build

AI Alone Can’t Tell a Story—But Neither Can You

The Sad Reality

And If You Still Don’t Believe AI Can Tell a Story…

Cheating on My Chatbot: A Tale of Tech Betrayal, Redemption, and Disappointment with DeepSeek

A Cautionary Tale of AI Betrayal, Instant Regret, and Why the Grass is Never Greener (Especially When It’s Full of Error Messages)

The DeepSeek Experience: Or, How I Wasted Five Minutes of My Life

The Walk of Shame Back to ChatGPT

How to Stop Losing Customers: Lessons from Sriracha's Fall from Grace

It’s Not About the Sauce—It’s About the Connection.

FED UP! Loyalty Programs and the Illusion of Value

Honest Business Wins: Why Transparency Beats Gimmicks Every Time

The Black Hole of Creativity: How Marketing Forgot About People

How Marketing Lost Its Humanity—and Why It’s Time to Bring It Back

The Black Hole of Creativity: How Marketing Forgot About People

The Quest for Connection

The Revelation

The Escape

The Moral of the Story

Twas the Night Before Christmas: How Savvy Marketers Shaped Our Beloved Holiday

How Marketing Legends Turned Holiday Traditions into Timeless Stories

The Power of Word of Mouth: Why It’s Still the Best Marketing Strategy

Why the Oldest Marketing Strategy Still Reigns Supreme in a Digital World

A Memory from the Past

The Quiet Power of Trust

The Danger of Forgetting

A Modern Misstep

The Magic We Forgot

A Promise to Reclaim

Slaying the White Whale: The True Tale of Trust, Betrayal, and Bad Internet

How One Company Lost My Loyalty and Another Earned It by Being Easy to Do Business With

Lost in Translation: How Our “Side Hustlers” Became Scammers (and What We Learned)

When a Hustle Becomes a Hassle:

﻿ The Wild Ride of Words Gone Wrong

Oops, Did We Just Call You a Criminal?

Lesson 1: Context Is King (or should we say, “El Contexto es Rey?”)

Lesson 2: Invest in a Real-Time Universal Translator (or, You Know, a Linguist)

Lesson 3: Embrace the Opportunity to Connect

Why This Matters to You

Our Commitment at 1644 Media

﻿

The Coffee Corner Comeback – A Lesson in Street-Smart Marketing

How a Simple Sign and a Few Small Tweaks Turned a Corner Coffee Stand into a Sell-Out Success

The Wild Ride of Words Gone Wrong