Speckled Toad Beer

I hate to admit it, but I never knew that the inspiration for the character of Uncle Sam in the WWI recruitment poster was the artist himself. Apparently he'd dilly-dallied on doing the painting until it was almost too late, so he did the initial drawing based on his own reflection in the mirror. He liked what he saw and from that first draft he completed the work, adding the bushy eyebrows, craggy features and the pointed, somewhat threatening finger, that to this day is still an iconic American symbol.

            My wife and I had been watching a special on our local PBS station when the story behind the poster was explained. It gave me an idea. Why not do the same thing using myself as a model for the Speckle Toad Beer ad campaign I was working on?

            I floated the idea past Michelle. It didn't take her long to express her opinion. "Your nuts, Troy," she said, and popped a kernel of popcorn into her mouth from the bowl we'd been sharing to emphasize her point. "Completely out of your mind," she added, grabbing a big handful to further solidify her opinion.

            "Why? What's wrong? I think it's a great idea."

            She let out a soft belch and looked me right in the eye. Michelle has taught third grade at the Long Lake elementary school for fifteen years. She's good at it; dare I say, even great. She has a firm but loving hand with the kids, which makes her popular with both the students and their parents. She also tells it like it is and doesn't pussy foot around with the truth. "Who would really care to see an image of you on an advertisement for beer? Seriously. My guess is no one."

            She chuckled to herself and went back to the popcorn, figuring she'd made her point. In her mind she probably did. But me? I'm a little slow on the uptake. I should have listened to her.

            I'm in my mid-forties and have worked for nineteen years in the art department for Lavender Hill Design, a well known upper Midwest firm specializing in advertizing work for small businesses. We've recently hit it big with the local craft beer industry, and I've been one of the most successful designers. Maybe longevity and success had gone to me head, but I ignored my wife's advice and proceeded with my plan of using my own image in the ad campaign. In World War I it was Uncle Sam saying 'I Want You.' Now, for my ad, I was hoping to come up with something like 'Speckled Toad Beer Is the beer for you,' with my face serving as the spokesperson.

            I took some selfies and then used them to make some preliminary sketches. Then I used my oil paints to create the perfect image. After a couple of weeks of work I had my character, "The Face of Speckled Toad Beer," as I secretly called it, and was ready to present it to my design team at the end of the week.

            My presentation was on that Friday. When I was finished, I can honestly say that I had never heard people laugh so hard.

            That night I dragged myself home and plunked down on the couch, the same couch a month earlier we'd watched that ill-fated PBS special.

            "Bad day at the office, Dear?" Michelle asked, sitting next to me and handing me a gin and tonic.

            "You might say," I said, gratefully sipping my drink.

            She grinned, "I told you so. Want to tell me what happened?"

            I did. I told her I had taken my enhanced face and dressed myself in a coonskin cap and buckskins like that Davy Crockett character my dad used to watch back in the fifties. Bad move. Hysteria was the order of the day from my team. I had completely blown it.

            "When my supervisor caught her breath and quit laughing, she told me that an amphibian dressed up in buckskins wasn't going to cut it. It went downhill from there. The rugged character I'd hoped to portray ended up looking like a deranged mountain man. I don't know which was worse, the fact that I'd blown the presentation, or that everyone thought my face looked like a toad." I sighed and leaned back on the couch, "The general consensus was that instead of selling beer, it would more likely scare people away from buying it. Back, as they say, to the drawing board."

            Michelle snuggled next to me, "See, you should have listened to me. I really do know what I'm talking about, you know."

            She was right. I don't know what I'd been thinking. "Yeah, I hear you. I guess I let my ego get in the way," I sighed and sipped my drink, starting to come to grips with the fact that I wasn't nearly as smart as I thought I was.

            "You want to watch some television?" She started scanning the shows. Then she stopped and looked at me, joking, "Can we risk it? You're not going to let some show give you any more crazy ideas?

            I laughed, "Funny. No, I think I've learned my lesson. From now on I'll just stick with what I know, art and advertizing. "

            "Good idea." It took her less than a second to agree.

            She found a program she liked and we watched it. It was filmed in England and had something to do with a baking contest. Interestingly, the contestants were vying to win, but they were also quite pleasant to each other. It was nice to see. Maybe they were on to something, and it gave me an idea. I wondered if maybe the ad could say something like, "Speckled Toad Beer, a beer that treats you kindly." It sounded good and had a nice ring to it. I'd run with it.

            But this time I'd keep my face to myself.