(The following outburst is reprinted from a post at Cre8asiteforums by permission of myself because every once in a while it feels really damned good to let it all out.)

In the beginning there was only a gray background. We borrowed (stole) everyone’s HTML so we could learn how to make our own web sites. We lied about our real identities. We were shy in those days. Even our spam was wimpy. Immature. Testing Internet waters.

Spammers started with simple spam emails that were so few and far between that you could hardly tell you were being spammed. In fact, historically speaking, the progression was foretold by none other than Monty Python in the famous “Spam” sketch from 1970.

* Egg and bacon
* Egg, sausage and bacon
* Egg and spam
* Egg, bacon and spam
* Egg, bacon, sausage and spam
* Spam, egg, sausage and spam
* Spam, egg, spam, spam, bacon and spam
* Spam, spam, spam, egg, and spam
* Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, baked beans, spam, spam, spam and spam
* Lobster thermidor aux crevettes with a Mornay sauce garnished with truffle paté, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam
* Spam, sausage, spam, spam, spam, bacon, spam, tomato and spam

But I Don’t Like Spam

It matters not, in today’s in-your-face marketing agenda society, that we like or dislike email spam. As marketers, the bottom line, golden rule is this:

Rush in. Do whatever is the shortest route possible to satisfaction. Never, ever, expect to be fulfilled.

There is nothing ethical about spam. Spammers are the lowest form of life on the planet. In fact, some would go so far as to say spam is not a living thing at all. However, we’ve all seen spam take on a life of its own via the endless incarnation practice of “copy/forward” to friends.

To end this cycle, we could simply ignore junk mail but alas, some email clients have to warn us first. We’re offered a choice. Keep or trash? I’m sick and tired of being asked and yet the moment I don’t, a good behaving email gets tossed in with the low-life scum.

What are the causes of spam? Are spammers’ angry people? Do their egos lead them to believe that we’re all interested in what they have to say? Could they not, before spamming these forums, ASK FIRST, to see if what to do or say is permitted? Do they not know how to read and therefore are too stupid to read our House Rules?

Do they think we get paid to be here, disabling them?

Many days I think to myself…“Kim, you could be doing something good for the planet.” What prevents me from doing so? Spam.

If I and the moderators didn’t come here every day, every hour, and every minute, no one would recognize these forums. Spammers with their naked celebrity pictures would have a field day here. People who still believe in “link farms” would pile in to beg for links. New web site owners would arrive, hour by hour, hawking their sites on everything from porn, to pills, to political statements.

What’s missing from the brain of a spammer?

Compassion for others. Concern for the well being of our society. Wisdom. Integrity. Responsibility. Spammers aren’t interested in dialog. Theirs is a one-side conversation.

Yes. In the global grand scheme of things, there are far, far more important and vital issues to be thinking about. People are in pain. Children are born into lives of slavery and starvation. Women are owned, raped and of less value than all other living things in some cultures. Not a day goes by when my soul doesn’t ache.

Not a day goes by when I must fight off those who use words and images to force me to look at their spam emails, spam blog comments or spam posts. And all I want to do is show every spammer where they could be putting their time, money and energy.

Dear spammer. It is not your desire that matters.

Discuss: Cre8asiteforums Staff Taking Time Off

There’s a scene in the movie version of “Oliver” where merchants walk along the street outside his bedroom window peddling their wares. They sing out “Who will buy?” this or that, holding up samples for passersby to see. Oliver has never witnessed such a thing before.

He sings,

Who will buy this wonderful morning?
Such a sky you never did see!
Who will tie it up with a ribbon,
And put it in a box for me?

I visited a web site today that sells dessert products. Its homepage had no content, so there was no one to “sing” to me about the products.

In the movie, the rose seller stresses her “sweet red roses”. Anyone walking by her on the street would be able to hold a rose up close to press a satiny red petal to their cheek. On the web, we have no such luxury.

We depend on page content to paint a picture of what a product looks and feels like. If a web site offers images that express feelings of joy, satisfaction, thrill, fun or hope, we’re given something to emotionally connect with. We can hope our experience will be the same as the people in the pictures.

The site I visited today had no pictures of people. Its products were beautifully gift wrapped so that I couldn’t see closeups. Other pictures showed food items that were lacking in detail. When the product description says 1 dozen cookies, are they big or little cookies? Are the raisins plump? How thick is the shortbread? Are we talking one cookie per person or does it take 3 cookies to equal one serving?

Oliver sings,

They’ll never be a day so sunny,
It could not happen twice.
Where is the man with all the money?
It’s cheap at half the price!

For this site, sale items were a click away from the homepage. To get to that page meant first finding it. The link label simply read “Sale”. Wow. That will drive in the hordes of budget crazed thrill seeking bargain hunters!

What do we get for our time on this site? What if we click, there’s only 3 choices and none of them are interesting? Does the page lead us anywhere else or just leave us dangling from the swinging chandelier?

Oliver has no money. He’s an orphan. He’s had a rough life. For him, anyone with something to sell him is incredible. The point is, someone WANTS him to buy something. If he can hear them hawking ripe strawberries, they must know he’s there somewhere inside a building, wanting to buy them.

Someone wants him to buy. He is special to the seller. They helped him feel that way. He sings,

Who will buy this wonderful feeling?
I’m so high I swear I could fly.
Me, oh my! I don’t want to lose it
So what am I to do
To keep a sky so blue?
There must be someone who will buy…

When was the last time you got this excited about buying online? When did you last feel madly driven to toss items into an online shopping cart? Which site makes you feel special when you’re there? How many web sites acknowledge your presence at all? Do online shops know you want to feel special?

Try adding little details to your online store. Help your customers feel wonderful, wanted and welcome.

There will be someone who will buy.

In the news:

Omaha based Netshops has hired an ex-Googler, Ash ElDifrawi, as the company’s first Chief Marketing Officer. He’ll be responsible for managing the company’s overall marketing strategy, including online marketing, brand marketing, SEO and strategic planning and corporate communications. At Google, ElDifrawi lead Brand Advertising for Google and YouTube, and was also the architect of the Google Brand Accelerator.

Look at Netshops. You’ll understand what Oliver was singing about.

In my dating days, I was a guy’s worst nightmare. When I went out with my friends, I may or may not have been looking for a cute hunk. Most likely, I was there to dance and flirt with a drummer. The worst thing a Coyote (man on the hunt) could do was to throw me a pick up line.

I would move away from the bar. I would roll my eyes. I would turn to a girlfriend and face my back to him. Sometimes I’d laugh at them because their pickup line was sooooo bad! I needed to get to know people in natural ways. Could they dance? Did any of them know how to have an intelligent conversation about say, books or string theory? These were the men who got past page one with me.

These were the guys who could get me to fill out their application form.

Hi, Have You Got a Boyfriend? If Not, Are You Taking Applications?

This was how fast some men started the dating sales process.

It’s also how quickly web sites approach first time visitors.

These are the sites that ask for your personal information before you place an item in a shopping cart. Or, the types of web sites that offer a teaser of content, and before you can learn more about their services or products, they ask you to fill out a long sales lead form first.

When web site visitors face enough of these annoying roadblocks, they leave the bar. They turn towards their friends. They roll their eyes or they turn their back to you to end the conversation. They leave your web site.

I don’t miss those dating days. I was a Show-Me-What-You-Got-First kinda girl.

For today’s usability mission, read Sign Up Forms Must Die, by Luke Wroblewski.

The other night, I got up on stage at the Spotlight Live during the 2008 SearchBash in New York City party while at SES NY. It was out of character for me, I suppose, to some of my friends and associates. For those who really, really know me, it was exactly and perfectly, Kim.

I had attended the SearchBash while at SES San Jose last August with my friend of 10 years, and forums co-Admin, Bill Slawski. We had V.I.P. status because it was Cre8asiteforums’ 5th birthday and we were celebrating with our friends and supporters. It was a wild party. I loved the music.

I loved the music even more at the Google Dance party held for SES San Jose attendees. All I wanted to do was dance with all the others who were dancing their hearts out, but I didn’t. As Greg Boser teased me correctly in the bar this week at SES NY, I am one of the “old ones” from the SEO/M industry. I guess there’s a time when you have to stop dancing because god forbid, your clients should see you having fun.

The Whirling Dervish

It was painful for me to hold back at SES San Jose. In my heart, I’m still running towards stages, holding up a lighter, and screaming my lungs out for “MORE!”

You see, I came of age during the 70’s. For me, every weekend was a concert to go to. Pink Floyd. David Bowie. Eric Clapton. YES. Peter Frampton. The Grateful Dead. Neil Young. ZZ Top (I snuck off and hitched a ride to see them.) Talking Heads. I lost track of all the concerts. Tickets were relatively cheap. Every concert was an adventure and a story that today, my kids aren’t sure whether or not to believe.

In the 80’s, I had a crew cut and was in love with punk rock. I went to a place in New Jersey called “City Gardens”, which was a gigantic building with bars, pool tables, dance floor and stages. I went there to dance all night. My favorite bands were the Dead Kennedys and Our Daughters Wedding. Years later, I would learn that Bill Slawski was there too, at the same time I was.

By the end of the 80’s, I had dated several guys from different local and NJ shore bands and had gone on the road with one band as an official “groupie”. I danced and danced. Slept in strange hotel rooms with piles of people. But all I cared about was the music and I longed for the next night when we’d be dancing again. I wore all black in those days. My hair was always long. I was slender. So, so slender! This was before kids. Before marriage. Before “settling down”.

The last time I danced was in 1988 when I married the father of my kids. I insisted on a wedding reception with a big dance floor and fussed over the music the way most brides would fuss over their flowers.

The Professional

Despite that persona of groupie dancing fanatic, I had another, quite serious side. By night, I was a dancing fool. By day, I was working for political lobbyists and county commissioners. I worked for my state’s Treasury department. I was responsible for entering all the House and Senate Bills into a database as a side job. I managed a company’s manufacturing inventory and computer system for 6 years. In other words, I had this professional life that was completely different and separate from the dancer.

When the kids came along, the dancing had long ended. Divorce, career changes, single motherhood, starting a business, founding a forums, remarriage, step-son, volunteering for all kinds of things, buying a house…

In my head I continue to dance.

You can’t lose weight by dancing in your head. And besides, the music is different nowadays. The dancing is different. I’m 49 years old. There’s this stigma of an “older” woman, full-figured and busty, wiggling around on stage like a teenager. I figured that my days of dancing the Charleston on a bar with a patron (Yes. I did that. Fell and broke my ankle.) were just memories that I would share from my porch rocking chair. Maybe my grandkids would like to know their Grandmother was a hoot in her day.

However, my friend and work associate, Li Evans, doesn’t accept any old lady thoughts rolling around in my head. Maybe it’s because she has taken the time to get to know me. She’s gotten past the barriers I sometimes throw up. Which brings me to the SearchBash this week.

And We Danced

The Spotlight Live is right smack in Times Square. A place that, had I been younger, I would have properly dressed for by wearing something outrageous and easy to dance in. But, being who I am now, I came with my husband, Eric, and some friends, in whatever we had on that day because we already checked out of our hotel. We could only stay at the Spotlight for 2 hours, and then needed to drive home that night.

Karaoke was the main party focus. I can sing, but have never sung into a microphone. I haven’t danced in years. Not real dancing, where my body would go fluid and my soul would soar. When my friend, Avi, wanted to sing Blister in the Sun, he wanted some company on stage. Li BEGGED me, for a good 20 minutes, to go up there and be a “backup dancer”.

For that mind blowing, scared to death, 20 minutes after I first said I would do it, I said no. I tried to hide from her, twice. I had butterflies. I was scared. Avi and Li kept insisting I go up there. My husband, Eric, who wouldn’t dream of stopping me, thought I should do it and of course, so did my friends like Matt McGee and his terrifically fun wife, whom I pleaded to go up with me. When Avi’s turn came up, I just took those steps towards the stage because in the end, I couldn’t let down my friends. Li yanked another friend named Jill at the last second and we all went up there.

The lights were very hot. The music started. I could hear people yelling and clapping. I looked up to the higher floors and did what came naturally. I rose up my fist in the concert stance and yelled “Whoo Hoo!” just like in my Grateful Dead days. I started to dance but I was distracted by a friend taking pictures to my left. Then, I saw Eric in the crowd below, rooting me on. For some reason, every ounce of fear I had disappeared the moment I saw him smiling back at me. I blew him a kiss. Seeing him there and having Mary Sue taking pictures with Li’s camera so close by, I felt that what I was doing, however impossibly silly I looked, was exactly what I wanted to be doing.

Eric told me later that he heard somebody yell, “That’s Kim Krause up there!”

Yes. It was.

When I turn 50 in May, I want to dance again.

(Left to Right - Avi, Li, Jill and Kim)

Photo courtesy of Li Evans.

View the entire WebmasterRadio.fm SearchBash @ NYC 2008 Set by Li Evans.

My raised fist, “Whoo hoo!” moment.

View entire SES New York 2008 Set by Li Evans

When I was a young girl growing up, a particular TV commercial aggravated me. It was about a liquid vitamin supplement called Geritol used for “iron poor blood” that contained alcohol and was said to give women lots of energy and ambition. The TV husband would rave about the miraculous feats his wife could perform while taking Geritol. The commercial ended with, “My wife. I’ll think I’ll keep her.”

The message I got from it was that if I wasn’t perfect in every way, there were products out there I could use to help me be perfect. Not only this, if I didn’t buy and take them, I’d never be worthy of a man or worth keeping.

To me, this kind of marketing was severely wrong because it’s degrading to women. Even as a teenager I felt the insult. The commercial was the brunt of jokes. In fact, in a classic I Love Lucy show episode featuring the famous “Vitameatavegamin” skit, Lucy gets drunk after sampling the product.

How could advertising firms have gotten it so wrong? Sure, women want energy. But to tie their lack of it to the security of their marriage was cruel and showed a lack of understanding about where women were going. The 70’s, when that commercial came out, was also the time when the feminist movement began to rise up again. The second publication of Betty Friedan’s, “The Feminine Mystique” came out in 1974, and this time, eleven years after its debut, brought US women face to face with themselves. They were more than “Wifey”.

Do agencies still make mistakes advertising to women? You bet! Are web site designers making the same mistakes? Yes, they are.

In a newly published book, “The Soccer Mom Myth”, written by Michele Miller and Holly Buchanan, the focus is on female consumers, who she is and why she makes purchases. The book describes the differences between how men and women think and why this matters with web site design, especially e-commerce.

Over half of the USA population is women. By this year, females may account for 52.6 percent of US Internet users - in other words, outnumbering males. Consider that men still dominate web site programming, advertising, search engine marketing, web design and performance testing positions; you can immediately see the potential for missing the mark. We all know men don’t know what women want.

In their book, Miller and Buchanan discuss the female brain and how MRI’s have proven they’re wired differently than male brains. Until recently, no one really considered a possible physical difference. According to the book, women have four times as many neurons connecting the left and right side of the brain. They process information differently. Men process content from a logical, linear perspective while women add nonlanguage-based processing that includes emotion, imagination and experience. The extra connections between a female’s right and left side make her able to “transfer data from one side to the other at a high rate of speed”. So much for needing Geritol.

Watching out for trends in women’s lives is important. They spend a lot of time on the Internet. Understanding how they process the information they see there is necessary to being able to promote your products. Females remember and reward good experiences and excellent customer service.

They need to feel a connection. I love how automobile sites drape slinky gorgeous women in evening gowns over the hood of their cars. This is great for the male brain, which has two and a half more brain space devoted to sexual drive, aggression and action. But women buy cars too.

My copy of The Soccer Mom Myth has yellow highlighter and sticky tabs all over the book. The authors write in short chapters, which for a multi-tasking woman like me, made it much easier to take in because I was always interrupted. Their dialog isn’t overly technical. They banter. Show examples. Tease. They make point after point. They shatter stereotypes. They show how to create personas and illustrate how stupid mistakes can kill a sale.

In one chapter, Holly asks, “Can you lose a sale in just two words?” Yes. “By starting out with ‘Dear Sir’”.

The book delves into how to perform research and ask the right questions. It helps you plan personas and scenarios that help you create pathways on your web site for their different buying processes. The book bounces with stories that stick in your mind, like the Volvo automobile executive that said, “We learned that if you meet women’s needs and expectations, you also exceed those for men.”

This new book will show you how to do that.

……………

Order The Soccer Mom Myth at Amazon.