|
 |
 MEMO From: Charles Tandy, Founder of Radio Shack To: All Radio Shack Employees and Franchisees Re: Company Image Good day, fellow Radio Shack entrepreneurs. It's been a while since I've officially addressed all of you, and for that I apologize. But with our new marketing campaign now two years old, I felt it was necessary to take stock of where we, as a company, stand. Frankly, I'm a little disappointed. I began this company in an actual shack back in 1953. I sold transistors and ham radios to truckers, do-it-yourselfers and Boy Scouts in search of electronic proficiency patches for their Webelo vests. Before long, I was able to move the operation into a legitimate hut, then a garage, and finally, in 1958, an honest-to-Jesus shop on an actual street. We launched the new campaign in 2001 (codename: "Howie Long Blitz"), because we were in need of a serious overhaul. I had my doubts at the time, wondering how a stone-dumb football player and his ditzy co-star were going to propel our company into the 21st Century. But I let marketing do their thing, and now I find myself in the position of having to forge a new face for our company on my own. I've decided I don't like the name Radio Shack any more, for starters. For example, nobody has bought a "radio" in any of our "shacks" since 1988. We don't even stock them any more. My nine-year-old grandson doesn't even know what a radio is. So neither should we. Secondly, the shack issue. It makes us sound like we're operating out of some rusted-out piece of crap. Let me tell you, I have visited many of our locations, and few would fit this description. We need something modern, that brings to mind our advanced technology. When people think of our store, I want them to think of futuristic robots and impossibly complex-looking control panels. Not Howie Long, dammit. Or Howie Long sitting in a shack, trying to tune a god damn radio, but he can't, because he's so stone-dumb. I spent weeks trying to come up with a name that would not only bring us into the 21st century, already two years old, but bring us to the verge of spilling over into the 22nd century! Finally, success. People, I give you Laser Silo. Lasers, once a staple of science-fiction writing, have become reality. Doctors use them to fix our vision, scientists use them to measure time and space, and criminals use them to melt locks in caper movies. We will use them to sell batteries, RC cars and walkie-talkies to Joe Transistor and Sally Circuit. And what word conjures up a massive stockpile of gleaming, sophisticated technology better than the word "silo"? Methinks none. A wrecking crew has already been dispatched to your location. From the steaming rubble of your antiquated "radio shack" will rise a majestic new "Laser Silo!" Your uniforms, hats and--get this--laser pointers! are coming in the mail. Get ready, people. This is going to be the year of the Laser. Silo, that is. Laser Silo. Your leader, Charles Tandy 
|
|
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
| lunchboxing.com 2003 | all content © | all rights reserved | suck it so hard | feel the rhythm of the night |
