Around the Craciun holiday, I strapped on a pair of boots and headed outdoors for an excursion into the wild streets of cartierul Titan, as follow up the previous tour in Decebal, by crossing south over Mihai Bravu into another world just to see how the titans were getting their Xmas on.

Little more than one city block later, I could tell by the graffiti alone that the kids here were attuned to a more domestic style of mischief.

While I lament Romania does have a urban mural scene and seems instead awash in tweenage taggers, I was happy to see the folks living on Baba Novac (not Bob Novak) had more of a local flavor as opposed to the MTV-monkeys up in Decebal.

Yes, a little home-cooked boroboaţa is a preferred sight.

Who could possibly know what amazing feats of wonder might have driven the great artists of his generation to so adoringly pay tribute to his accomplishments with a salutation for the ages gracefully painted upon a rusted-out hollow utility box stuffed with precious gifts for the altar which now serves as monumental centerpiece for younger generation of visitors to Complex Rucar and promulgates Madalin to instant fame in the blogosphere.

Millennia from now, alien archeologists from uncharted space will marvel over the presumed religious significance of such a masterpiece of cultural… oh, I suppose I’ve gone too far, now.

Shall we move on to other examples of local craftsmanship?

An explanatory placard would go a long way toward increasing the odds of a body understanding just what in the world this might be. A piece of concrete communism, to be sure. But is this water fountain supposed to be an astrological clock opening a portal to the 4th dimension? A handheld gram scale amok? Aborted zodiac sign?

I suppose it will be interesting to see how it looks in the summer. Assuming the city turns the water on.

I still love the Trabant. It just seems the perfect toy.

Rather than dusted with snowflakes in Bucureşti, I can imagine this Trabant with some better air pressure loaded up with a couple surfboards and a full propane tank cruising I-5 just outside of Encinitas. All it needs is a custom paint job.

The only thing more natural would be a dolled up Barkas bus on the same stretch of highway.

I don’t know about you, friend, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and venture a guess that concrete was probably not the artist’s preferred medium. I mean, how’d we get this piece of work?

Make a mold of the face and basic head. Attach that little mold to a larger tombstone-style cardboard box. Turn the whole thing upside down, pour in some fine-grain quickset concrete and let it set a while. When you guesstimate the head might be relatively stable, then pour the junk mix over the top into the larger chamber.

When the base starts to firm up, flip the whole thing right side up and remove the mold. Inspect the face to make sure it’s workable. Then take some excess junk concrete ooze and begin fashioning a beard and hair.

Voila! Another advancement of the arts thanks to influential communist stylings. Cold and lifeless — both literally and figuratively –  the anachronistic overseer of the tovaraşi parked in stoic repose at the entrance of the public park off Baba Novac in Titan.

The smiley face graffiti cracks me up, because Cuza never struck me as a happy friendly guy.

On the other hand, Moş Korochun has always seemed the jolly type. So it was quite curious to stumble upon this electric light representation of present-dispensing practioner. I wonder why did he look like muppet eskimo characture, perhaps explained by having had his bulbs glued together in China, and, more importantly, just why is it he was giving all the children of Titan a crude gesture with his middle finger?

Contrarily, Frosty the Snowman looks as thrilled as a pig in slop. Atta boy, Frost!

I wouldn’t want you to think that cartoon icon of Americana was the only cold and happy thing in Parcul I.O.R. Nossir. There were, afterall, humans lurking about. Adeverat.

What a glorious sight, exiting strada Baba Novac!

Entering the park to find it teeming with life, aflutter with holiday buzz.  Giggling teenagers charged with hormones, young families opening the imaginative minds of small children to the electric glow of Christmas joy, and elderly couples drinking it all in as they quietly stroll along with a twinkle in their eye.

Whomever was in charge of decorating the park gazebo was probably not the same person in charge of decorating the park overall. Their execution was probably the best part of the park, given the small space, and I would humbly suggest this same person should probably be assigned the design of the entire park next year.

Here we find an awkward corporate sponsor. Whatever they paid for the promotional space was not enough money. The city will need to charge more to anyone wanting to promote their corporate logos at public events as well as laydown some ground rules as to thematic considerations.

Just look a this monstrosity. The bloated windbag stood out like a sore thumb, as the company made zero effort whatsoever to try and fit the holiday theme. That speaks volumes about the depth of thinking behind this radio station. A station so out of touch it uses an inflatable cassette player boombox with analog dials. Something kids have never seen.

During Christmas.

Hey, Itsy Bitsy, get off your duff and pretend to care about the kids and families, will ya? Strap on your thinking caps; enhance the mood and feel of the Craciun experience. Don’t detract from the fun with your lenes eyesore.

And while I’m spanking you, here’s a few other rants I’d like to shove down your throat. I suppose some PHB thinks the high-pitch voiceovers are adorable when they’re definitely not, but anyone can agree your radio broadcasts have entirely too much pointless chatter that the kids do not care about.

As if that were not bad enough, you play as many minutes of commercials as you do play songs. Possibly more. Are y’all completely insane? Have you any idea what a terrible experience that is?  Do you understand this devalues the ad slots you sell? Does someone have to explain everything to you? Raise the price, rotate fewer advertisements, and increase the quality of your broadcast mix.

Most of the songs in Romaneşte I’ve heard on your station suck: badly, really really badly. I cannot emphasize that enough. Really. You need some serious help in understanding what an audience is entertained by. Start by hiring a competent program director and get them involved in brand experience research.

Unless, of course, your executive staff is dumb enough to think they’ll survive for long now that kids are all getting online and have many more choices. Let me break it down for you: right now, at least one astute reader of this blog has picked up on the business opportunity and begun imagining how they develop a competing experience for the children of Romania. They can probably offer a better service for less money, leaving Itsy Bitsy a shriveled relic of a bygone era.

What dimwit thinks it’s a good idea to play so much music from America? First of all, rocket scientists, the kids do not understand English language. That should be enough right there to convince you to stop playing MP3s of songs extracted from American TV shows the kids haver never seen. It’s pretty lame when you stuff the broadcast with filler like worn-out 1960s American rock music with words the kids cannot sing along to.

And since you play Disney songs (for which I tend to doubt you have the license to play, as Disney is very protective of its music) which generally pretty good music quality compared to much the other local schlock your station pukes out on public airwave, one might argue the point that your actions may implant in impressionable minds the message that Romanian music is of lower quality, boring, uncool, and otherwise not worth listening to.

Here’s a clue: Take all that money you’re making from the 4 ads-per-song sales success you’re focused on and channel some of those funds back into the Romanian art community by funding the creation of new children’s musicians right here at home. Just think of all the money you’ll make from owning the rights to the characters and personalities you create: not only advertising revenue via radio and internet, but selling actual CDs in stores, repositioning your assets into TV, cable, DVD, and internet video mediums.

You make more profit when you provide a better quality experience for the kids. However, it will require the people at your helm let go of the greed lever. Set you sights higher and accomplish more.

In any event, stop repeating “asculta Itsy Bitsy” nine hundred times an hour. I feel bad for the kids.

Here’s how your station sounds: Asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 3 minutes, advertisement, commercial, advert, asculta message, Disney song in English, sleepy song in Romaneşte, asculta message, boring song in Romanian, asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 2.5 minutes, asculta message, American TV song, advertisement, ad, asculta message, commercial, advert, reclama, asculta message, fairly weak Romanian song, 1960s American song, asculta message, 2 minute voiceover about ustoroi, asculta message, promotion about attending church, asculta message, finally a pretty entertaining Romanian song, asculta message, American TV song, asculta message, annoying voiceover chatter for 4 minutes, advertisement, crap Romaneşte song…

Ad infinitum.

I don’t think I have the energy left to point out the myriad of disappointments with your website. My readers are probably sick to death of reviewing your many flaws, so we won’t get into the lackluster online experience focused on creating insecurity within parents your advertisers exploit.

Itsy Bitsy could be so much more than a logo filled with empty calories whose sole purpose is to turn a buck without regard to the experience kids have with the brand. I predict a more savvy competitor will obviate your existence in the near future.

In the meantime, let’s hope next Christmas you opt for something more creative than an inflatable object most kids have never seen.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 18th, 2009 at 12:07 am and is filed under Living, Society. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.