Like Rod Serling in the Twilight Zone, the Zima man is one of those curious spokespersons who is condemned to only interact with himself, and us, the hapless viewer. While he can show up before the rooftop barbeque, he swiftly vanishes after the first bottle of Zima is opened, leaving only an over-sweetened mist where he once stood.
That’s good, because I would probably have to call him out on that z’s for s’s affectation.
Like you, Dear Reader, I can barely watch this commercial. The blue shirt that’s buttoned up to the neck, the blandly wretched “pile it on pile it on” dialogue, the vest worn in lieu of a shirt, and the idea that a group of six would all drink Zima – - to believe this, even in an advertisement, is like being asked to hike up a mountainside in three minutes wearing crocs 1 and carrying an anvil.
Even Zima drinkers, whose sanity is already in question, were not fans of the campaign. The distressingly convincing petition to bring Zima back states in paragraph 2:
We proud and intrepid Zima drinkers have managed to look past Zima’s ill-advised, credibility-killing “Zomething Different” advertising campaign of the early ’90s; have resisted switching from Zima to more popular “malternative” beverages like Smirnoff Ice and Mike’s Hard Lemonade; have continued to bravely drink Zima in public despite catcalls of “it zucks!” and “tastes like zhit!” from smart-alecky fellow bar patrons; and have even realized that Zima is an excellent (and much more potent) substitute for tonic water in various cocktail recipes. For our devotion to this oft-unfairly-maligned alcopop beverage, we deserve to be able to continue enjoying its fresh citrus essence and bubbly effervescence.
While it is weird that the petition specifically mentions being mocked in public, you cannot doubt Patrick Young from Ohio’s rallying cry:
I Am The Most Drinking Zima Man In The World!! BRING BACK THE ORIGINAL PLEASE!!!
My only experience with Zima was during my after high-school writers’ group (fifteen years ago) in which, during what could be considered a poem, an aspiring Jim Carroll shouted, “We drank Sprite and Zima together” about a doomed love interest, and emphatically pounded the table of the library in which our group met. It was then that I vowed to leave the state of Virginia, hoping to never be recognized again.
Zima was discontinued in the United States in 2008, presumably due to a very rational fear of the Obama administration.2 But if you’re feeling zentimental, there is a sign for auction.
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1. OK, I had no idea that this had already sort of happened, with predictably unfortunate results. The fact that they suggested other hikers wear them is beyond bizarre.
2. Wikipedia notes that it’s STILL MADE IN JAPAN, which seems like an unfair burden for the Japanese. It also denotes the many attempts of the Simpsons and Family Guy to frame Zima as a gay beverage.
Just throwing this out there: I have never heard a single gay person in my lifetime say, “I’ll have a Zima.” Also, if it were true, it seems like Zima, having absolutely no marketable angles to speak of, would have hopped on that bus.
July 1, 2010 at 6:44 pm |
Alas! The saga of the Zima man is perhaps a marketing tale so deliciously tragic one wonders how or why it was ever brought to America in the first place. Here, then, was a classic Howard the Duck saga gone disaastrously wrong.
As for your dear Dragonmaster, director-cameraman Stephen Steinberg and I are halfway through the production of my long-awaited documentary film, “Quite an Imagination: The Story of New York’s Unofficial Wizard.” However, I have recently learned that Eileen Merle-Rao has been let go from her duties as Entertainment Coordinator for our annual Medieval Festival at Fort Tryon Park; worse still, mine humble hovel, a/k/a my apartment, is being renovated. The emotional turmoil resulting from the latter events may likely delay further filming on the documentary, in which case, dear Evan, I can only say stay ye tun’d!
As ever,
Master Blackwolf