Day 9: The Neon Man (Slash Coleman & PBS): Throwing out Ideas

Ok, so it seems like I keep getting a great idea, sleeping on it and then throwing it out. At first I wanted to send a button to each station - you know a shirt button. I was going to put it in an envelope and have the station send it back to me. I was going to say it was from my friend's shirt and could they please send it back. I liked the idea of them being responsible for being a part of the process even if they said "No." I figured it would make a profound impression. 

I don't even have to tell you why that idea is getting tossed, do I?


The cookie idea, while it seemed great at first just seems more and more not to work. Sure if I could send each station a dozen cookies that'd be the bomb, but sending one cookie with my logo on it. Well, a logo cookie isn't exactly appetizing is it? So, I'm back to the drawing board with the package idea.


This morning I woke up a little freaked out, which is unusual because typically these moments usually happen at night. But I remembered that God doesn't give us a problem without also giving us the answer and so, I just have to remember to hold God's hand a little tighter.


For more info about "The Neon Man and Me" and other storytelling projects by me - Slash Coleman - please visit www.slashcoleman.com

Day 7: The Neon Man (Slash Coleman & PBS): Gross Impressions

So, today my meetings continued. 

I spent most of my day thrift store shopping with my cousin, stylist, Josh Coleman, who gave me some advice about my wardrobe/storytelling costume. I confessed to him that although I'd chosen one outfit to wear when I performed from now on, during my last two unpublicized shows, I rebelled against myself and chose not to wear my outfit. It seemed like I was putting myself into a box  - like a 9 to 5 job. He said a lot of time that happens to him as well and situations, and emotions should dictate the wardrobe. He said if I settled on a tie, a vest and a shirt, then I could choose amongst many styles and colors of tie and vest and shirt to wear.


In the late afternoon, I met with Greg Kontos. This is a guy who writes about Lunar Radiation, Paranal Observatories in Chile, and Technovelgy on his blog www.aceize.com. Let's just say whenever we get together and talk our conversations are profound and world shaking. (Perhaps you felt the tremors move the sidewalks outside Ellwood Coffee Shop at 3:45 pm) We discussed my viral marketing campaign and more specifically the the idea of "gross impressions," and how to create them. 

Greg was trying to help me come up with ideas of what specifically I should send to each PBS station under certain conditions. Knowing that I needed to send things to 300 stations across the country and knowing that I didn't have much money - these things needed to be flat, cheap and small enough to put in an envelope. 

In the end, we decided on a couple things that I have yet to research:
1) I would spend the extra money on a priority mail envelope which would be more likely to get opened.


2) I would put a plastic, flat, neon colored, ginger-bread type man in the envelope with my contact info and "The Neon Man and Me," printed on it.


3) We tossed around the idea of including a saxophone reed since the show is about my late friend who played the saxophone, but we thought it might gross some people out with germs and stuff if they thought it was a used reed.

4) I would include a miniature version of my press kit  - maybe index card sized, so it wouldn't look like I was trying to pitch something traditional, but I would still be able to pass along important contact information to them.





5) I would write a very specific letter. I will reveal this on my  blog after the viral marketing campaign is complete so you can see how it worked. 

I'm shooting for my campaign to win over the support of at least 80% of the PBS stations nationwide.


For more info about "The Neon Man and Me" and other storytelling projects by me - Slash Coleman  - please visit slashcoleman.com

Myth #4: Artists Have Demons

when “the neon man and me” opened in richmond, there were only four people in the audience. one of those four would eventually lead me to pbs. sometimes, it’s not about the number of seats you fill, but the quality of the crowd that counts.

i’ve performed in front of sold out shows, where the audience was flat and made me question my decision to perform. i’ve performed in front of smaller crowds where the audience laughed at every thing i did and made me feel like a million bucks.  there is a certain energy that artists feel from others, a certain validation, a certain magic, which doesn’t necessarily come from the number of people in the crowd.