What Came First? The Demo or the Sale?
Production companies have varying philosophies when it
comes to promotion. But Ric and I agreed, in the first
month of our new venture, that we were going to have to
have something to show potential customers.
We had produced a successful show at Marquette, as detailed
previously, but it was a show for insiders, and would be
meaningless to potential business customers.
So Ric decided to lean on his father, industrialist William
J. Sorgel, who had run the Sorgel Transformer Company
founded by his own father, for leads and contacts. "Million
Dollar" Bill, as I liked to call him, was a charmer, had a
lot of friends, and was willing to spread our name among
his other millionaire industrialist friends. (He spread his
own name with an enormous company logo on the roof of his
Walker's Point plant that was seen by anyone entering or
leaving Milwaukee on I-94).
Our real goal was not the sale itself, or the profit that
would come with it. What we really wanted was an industrial
strength demo. The result, finally, was Kiefer
Corporation.... Our first "real" show.
Ric,
left, and Brien, right, compete for the "Elvis Isn't Dead
Yet" sideburn competition prior to going out on a sales
call (location: 826 North Cass Street, Milwaukee).
Mike Koeper was a friend of Ric's; his father, Fred, was a
friend of Bill's. They had purchased half of Kiefer
Corporation-- an industrial stainless steel fabrication
company-- from Ed Stamm, the President of the company, and
brother of Milwaukee's fire-chief
The Koeper's had retained an ad agency-- Andrews
Advertising, located in the Bockl Building at 20th and
Wisconsin. The Account Team on the Kiefer Account was Lyle
Thompson, a well-known ad veteran, and Mark McGlinchey, an
up and coming Account Exec. I can imagine they thought the
Koeper's were nuts for bringing in this wild looking duo
with the slide projectors.
Ric and I dressed up as best we could (I wore my tan
corduroy jacket from my honeymoon) and dragged our gear
over to 20th and Clybourn, the HQ for Kiefer Corp. There we
met the Koepers, Ed Stamm, and the ad boys. Lyle Thompson
was quick to point out their recent marketing advance for
Kiefer-- a new outdoor electrical building sign.
We began our pitch-- if memory serves, a bunch of
mumbo-jumbo about slide projectors, twin-dissolves, and
soundtracks. Finally, we showed the show-- our Marquette
University triumph.
Our first rough crowd... Ed Stamm excused himself to take a
nap (seriously).
But after it was over, Thompson asked, "how much?" He knew
this was coming out of his budget. We fumbled around for an
answer. Before we could say anything that made sense, he
interjected; "we really don't have the money for it".
McGlinchey added, "Might be good for their trade show,
though".
Finally, Mike Koeper said, "can you do it for $125
dollars?"
I waited for Ric's answer. He was more familiar with money
than me.
"Sure.... Including equipment?"
Gulp.
We had our first job.
It was early March and our first job was due to be shown in
Kiefer's booth at the Wisconsin Restaurateur's Association
Expo at the Red Carpet Inn near the Airport.
On $125 bucks, we had to buy film, audio tape, and drive
around Wisconsin photographing Kiefer Corp's best stainless
steel kitchen installations-- in hospitals, cafeteria's,
and more hospitals, and also document their whole
fabrication story.
We did the shooting first. Ric and I headed out to each of
the installations, treating each shooting trip as script
research as well. I took notes, recorded ambient sound, and
Ric shot a fair amount of footage (using the one rule we
had learned in college-- bracket like hell.)
Once we had all the shots, I wrote a script. This would not
be easy.
I never found scriptwriting easy. It's a low overhead
activity, doesn't require film or processing or much
equipment; but it does require a great deal of time and
intensity. And if you're writing for a-v, it requires an
understanding of all the a-v elements.
This first script was REAL low overhead. I wrote it in the
apartment my wife and I had on Cass Street, on my high
school / college ROYAL typewriter... a real piece of crap.
Actually, as I type this now, I faintly remember
handwriting out much of the first script. That helped me
keep it short. But not short enough. Mark McGlinchey
offered me a pamphlet on the "FOGG INDEX"-- a technique to
keep writing simple. Years later, I found this letter I
wrote Mark in an unmailed manila envelope along with the
booklet I promised to return. Obviously, I still have both.
But thanks, Mark.
What really helped in writing the script, though, was the
fact that I was going to READ it. We didn't know any pro's,
there was no real A-V industry at the time (it was really
as film industry, if anything, and I was too chicken (and
we couldn't afford) to hire an announcer.
So, knowing I was going to read what I wrote, I wrote out
loud. And I decided that what would make this script
readable was if it would work for Ed McMahon.
Ed, at the time, was not just Johnny's sidekick. He was
also the king of the voiceovers, doing spots for Bud, Alpo,
and who knows what else. I was always more attached to the
audio than anything else, and I had done voice impressions
in high school. I was going to sound like Ed McMahon.
"In stainless steel fabrication.... And installation....
All you'll ever need.
This... is Kiefer Corporation".
MUSIC UP AND UNDER
Note the dot-dot-dots. Those solve many problems for
scriptwriters. They indicate pacing, and excuse the lack of
verbs. It helps the announcer read what was in your head.
I read the script in a closet on Cass Street. We had a two
room plus kitchenette apartment, with one closet, that
seemed large enough to have been an elevator shaft at one
time. All of our meager possessions were in that closet.
And, since it was still winter in Milwaukee, we had plenty
of heavy coats and sweaters. Instant audio booth.
I knew that to sound professional, I'd need help. I was no
announcer. So I "sweetened" the entire track with music...
music selected from soundtrack albums of movies I had liked
in college. Midnight Cowboy. On her Majesty's Secret
Service. Skidoo. I liked John Barry.
There was no section in the show without music, and every
time the subject changed the music changed. It enhanced my
read, and begat a rule I still obey to this day.
With plenty of Olsen Electronics leader on the tape, I
created the multitrack on Ric's large Sony Selectrosound
overdubbing recorder, mixing down to my own Sony two-track.
I brought the tape and the recorder to Ric's apartment,
where he was using a fluorescent light fixture as a light
table, and a pair of his Dad's slide projectors (yes, he
had two) and our rented Kodak dissolve box.
We carefully laid out the slides according to the track. In
paces where there was a bit more music, we added slides to
fill (creating sequences that we claimed were pre-planned).
By the time the Kiefer booth opened at the Expo Center, we
had a show.
They loved it.
Our biggest memory of that show was the fact that the air
dripped of deep-fry machines. We didn't have money but it
didn't matter. We had plenty of free samples. We brought
our significant others to see the show and eat.
With a demo that seemed fairly professional now available
to us, we took what little money was left over and worked
out a time-purchase of the two slide projectors from
million dollar Bill, and bought a used dissolve control
outright. Soon we had a number of sales calls, and as
predicted, those that liked what they saw bought our
services--- to produce pretty much exactly the same thing.
Soon, we had landed two projector "industrial" slide shows
for Gilman in Grafton, Milwaukee Valve in South Milwaukee,
and RipSteel in Milwaukee.
It was beginning to look like we'd have a full plate for
the rest of the summer, so we decided to get an office. For
$125 a month, we took over space from the company that
developed our slides. Heck, we were on our way to a $5000
year!
The demo got us business. The office made us real.
