Media: A moment with Marquis

Bit of skiing last week. Restoring the old work/life balance. Nothing like getting away from the media world for a few days: fresh air, a couple of cleansing ales with lunch, fabulous mountain scenery, snow-clad slopes glistening under the noonday sun and ... ads.

Yes, there really is no escape. Anywhere, any time. Even on the pylons holding up the chair-lifts, there are goddamn ads. I noticed one breathtakingly dull thing for investment funds (well, this was Switzerland!) and what was clearly the full campaign treatment for a well-known very small car, as each pylon sported a different creative (sic) execution.

By the time I reached the top of the slope, I had been zapped by 11 OTS of the very small car and so, of course, was clamouring for a handy dealer to convert my whipped-up interest and desire into a purchase. Yeah, right.

I'm sorry to be all bitter and twisted about this, but is nowhere sacrosanct?

Are people fair game for advertising all the time? As I took in the Alpine vista, to be brutally honest, I wasn't in the frame of mind to think about very small cars or Swiss investment funds. Ah, you say, but you noticed the ads, didn't you?

They made an impact.

Yes, I did. They did. The ads intruded annoyingly into my non-advertising space, created a jarring note about the very small car (which I quite like, normally), and made me fume that my beloved industry knows no bounds.

The fact that people can be advertised at doesn't mean that they should be advertised at. The planning authorities who allow ads on mountain pylons, the greedy ski-lift operators who make a bit extra, the agencies who book this stuff and, most of all, the clients for letting themselves be talked into doing it, are all responsible for - well, bringing marketing into disrepute. Let alone, in this instance, desecrating a magnificent view.

It all seems a bit desperate, doesn't it? Like a pesky child begging for attention. Whoo-hoo! Look at me, here I am again, on your holiday, halfway up a mountain!

Well push off, I say. Come and talk to me when I want you to, not when you want to. Have the grace to leave some places and times ad-free. You'll find I am far more amenable to your message when you stop thrusting it under my nose.

Thank you. I hope that's clear now and, if you'll forgive me, I'm just off to plan a mould-breaking telemarketing campaign that calls people at home in the middle of the night. Fantastic OTH, apparently ...