David Hunter: Words from sponsors can stick with viewers

Memorable commercials and memorable characters take root in our minds and remain for years and years.

It was 1984 in a Wendy’s commercial when actress Clara Peller, then 81, first uttered the phrase, “Where’s the beef?” From 1964 to 1985, in a commercial for toilet paper, a fictional grocer named Mr. Whipple, played by actor Dick Wilson, admonished customers with a phrase that caught and kept the imagination of America for years: “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin!”

Many, if not most, of these commercials began as a concept in the mind of a specialist, once commonly called an “Ad Man,” either employed by an advertising agency or working as a freelancer. The term originated in a time before politically correct speech was in vogue, and there are many successful women involved in advertising today.

The television series called “Mad Men,” set in New York City during the 1960s, is a take-off on the term Ad Men. Members of almost every profession today can point to a television series about the work they do — everything from alligator hunters to truck drivers. “Mad Men” has a loyal following among those who write things that may eventually affect millions of people.

It just so happens that I know a couple of guys who have been in the business for a long time and occasionally swap stories with them over coffee. Wayne Bowman and Dick Harris, who now reside here in Knoxville, have been coming up with concepts and slogans for many years, often as free-lancers. Bowman has pursued his career pretty much since his graduation from Western Carolina University.

Harris, who started in the Big Apple — long before he was old enough to vote — recently published a book called “Two Fast Fingers & 26 Keys,” about his long career in the advertising business. He subtitled the book as “How a wannabe writer with minor talent, major guile and monumental luck weasels his way into a career at the keyboard.” He is being overly modest. In a profession that can introduce new catchphrases to the language overnight, he has done well.

For the first eight years of my life, I listened to radio jingles such as “You’ll wonder where the yellow went when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent” and “Tide’s in, dirt’s out.”

After the radio ceased to be the center of the entertainment universe, I switched to television and such commercials as “Winston tastes good, like a cigarette should,” and watched the Cheerio Kid as he was “Feeling his Cheerios.” Who knows how many times I saw Charlie the Tuna turned down by Starkist because he didn’t make the grade? We early baby boomers even knew that more doctors smoked Camel cigarettes “than any other brand,” and we certainly knew to “Say Pepsi please.” As the first generation of children to grow up with television, we were bombarded with ads meant to sell us something.

We survived, though, despite the fears of our parents that television was “ruining us,” just as our children survived video games and our grandchildren will survive whatever comes along. We are an adaptable species, which is why we are still around, and advertising keeps the wheels of commerce turning.