It’s Time (Travel) For Tims

Tim Hortons is advertising retro donuts. That is, they're bringing back some of the old donut styles, for a limited time only.

On the one hand, that's nice. I miss dutchies too. On the other hand, this relates to a big part of why public opinion has turned against them in recent years: the selection is nowhere near what it used to be - it seems like every time you go in, there's one less thing on the menu. On the other hand, there will be some bizarre item that wasn’t there last time and won’t be there next time. These retro donuts are just the latest in the dizzying sequence of temporary specials.

I assume their strategy of recent years is to reduce the selection of available products to the bare minimum for efficiency's sake. They then compensate for the lack of variety by having the endless stream of temporary features. Hopefully you won't notice the jelly Timbits are gone if you're distracted by the new Chili Lasagne Bowls. But now the irony is that they're distracting us from the poor selection with the old selection.

I can understand why a company would want to restore some of what customers used to like about them. But being a temporary feature, it feels like a bit of a tease. “Hey remember how great it was when we had a wide variety of products? And you used to like us, not just tolerate us? That was pretty nice. Anyway, time's up! Next month’s feature is Chipotle Omelette Balls. Enjoy!”

I'm trying to imagine which other Canadian companies could restore what people used to like about them. Hudson Bay has already been having occasional pop-up Zellers stores, which is a similarly odd strategy of acknowledging what people used to like about the company, but without actually committing to it. I also remember Muchmusic had a daily retro video show a few years back, but even that’s gone now. Also, there’s quite a few companies like Sears where I’d say, it would be great if they’d go back to existing.

So enjoy the retro donuts while you can, and eat as many as your arteries will allow. If they sell well, maybe they’ll make a return, soon, and bring some of the extinct Timbit varieties with them. Until then, enjoy the Tuscan Sausage Dumplings.

How The Meaty Have Fallen

Years ago, I wrote a post about how many ads use “It’s Your Thing” by the Isley Brothers. The point was that it’s really over-used, and worse, lazily used — by advertisers looking for a cheap expression of … I don’t know, individuality, or something? I was pointing out that it just keeps getting warmed-over by the ad industry, despite it already being associated with the last second-rate brand that used it, and also, in complete obliviousness to how cliched it is. 

(After the recent passing of Rudolph Isley, I should point out that I have nothing against the song itself, but it’s become generic ad music, about as fresh as 70s Muzak.)

So I was absolutely shocked when I saw McDonald’s latest ad campaign built around that most over-used song. It might not be a surprise for younger people: Today, McDonald’s is just another established brand casting about for something that will appeal to Gen Z and Gen Alpha. (Seriously, that’s what they’re calling it.) 

But when I was younger, Mickey-D’s were legendary for their marketing prowess. Among anyone with the self-awareness to realize that marketing was happening, they were the epitome of corporate Svengalis making the public dance to their choice of tune. Children loved them. Teens loved them even though children loved them. Parents hated them but let their children drag them there anyway.

To be honest, I always thought the legend of their gastronomic propaganda was a little exaggerated. After all, if they could control the general public’s tastes, wouldn’t they choose something easier to make than burgers? I mean, they are a fairly complex food; they do have all the food groups one way or another. Wouldn’t it be more profitable to command everyone to desire raw soy beans or something?

But even if they were never a burger collective controlling the American palate, they were the pinnacle of twentieth-century marketing. Yes, they had missteps like the Arch Deluxe or their foray into Pizza. But on the other hand, they built an empire with a clown and a big purple lump, convinced kids to have their birthdays there, got us to drink some kind of orange syrup at public events, made the McRib into a major event, and made a legend out of a burger that’s half-bread and has an unclassifiable-sauce.

So it was a shock to see them build an ad campaign around this cliched song that a regional chain of muffler shops would be embarrassed to use. On the one hand, it’s kind of refreshing; instead of marketing going after the youths, here they’re going after, I don’t know, the Boomers, I guess? But it’s also a bit sad. It’s like a TV show that came back for one season too many, an aging rock star dabbling in smooth jazz, or an athlete that doesn’t know when to quit. Wow, I saw communism fall, and somehow the fall of McDonald’s marketing is more shocking.

The Basketball Diagrams

In a recent commercial, I noticed that the Raptors’ Fred VanVleet was wearing a T-shirt with an odd triangular logo that looked like one of those adaptors they used for record holes. But after a few times seeing the ad, I realized that the symbol looked like an “F” and a “V,” so I wondered if it was his personal logo.

Years ago, I made a post about athletes with their own logos, so this shouldn’t surprise me. But still — much as I identify with VanVleet as a fellow vertically-challenged person, and admire his fighting back from many challenges to become an important member of a top team — he is the second-string point guard. In contrast, the athletes I found with symbols were among the best ever at their respective sports. But I did a little digging, and was surprised to find that most of the Raptors line-up have their own logos:

It turns out that although those earlier logos were created by equipment manufacturers to associate products with the athlete, today’s players are often taking it upon themselves to create a symbol for themselves. Indeed, Fred VanVleet will sell you one of his logo shirts, so he’s essentially doing for himself what Nike et al will do for the biggest stars in the game. Also, Kyle Lowry invited logo designs, but he’s still going with clothing that just has “7” on it at least for now.

In case you’re wondering where the rest of team is on this, Danny Green doesn’t have one, but his podcast does. And coach Nick Nurse has a hat with his initials on it, though that was supposedly a gift. I’m left wondering how Marc Gasol got left out of the fun. He’s a newcomer to the team, but he was a star for Memphis for many years, so I’m left wondering if this is unique to the Raptors.

I’m sure a star studded team like the Warriors all have their own logos. Well, the famous ones, anyway; their bench probably just has “Hello my name is” stickers. So I’ll look at Eastern Conference rivals the Milwaukee Bucks. Not surprisingly, their star Giannis Antetokounmpo has one, though it’s not real creative. And better still, I found a mnemonic for spelling his name. But what about his less-famous teammates? I went looking, and I couldn’t find one for Eric Bledsoe or Brook Lopez, though Khris Middleton has one that I don’t entirely understand.

So this is a weird Raptors tradition, like Jurassic Park or Drake. Hopefully they can spin this into a new way of winning over free agents: sign with the Raptors and no matter your role with the team, you get your own logo, and as many endorsements as you have time for.

A Bad Title

There’s a new movie opening next week called The House with a Clock in its Walls. I don’t know about the movie: it looks like a cheap excuse for special effects and Jack Black. And it’s a bad sign that it’s been relegated to a post-Labour-Day opening, meaning that the studio doesn’t have high hopes. But there’s one thing we do know for sure: that is the worst title in the history of movies.

Just to make sure, I looked up some lists of the worst movie titles of all time. There are some bad ones, but I think we may have a new loser here. Actually, I was a little disappointed by much of the bad title lists. I was expecting some of the all-time awkward names (I Love Trouble, Cutthroat Island,  Moon Over Parador) but for the most part, they were just strange and/or bad movies with appropriate titles (Santa with Muscles.) I mean, I have no doubt that Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot was a terrible movie, and it’s a terrible premise. But once you’ve made that movie, what else could you really call it?

Lately, the bigger problem with movie titles is that they’re vague. Edge of Tomorrow was a title that didn’t tell you anything about its intriguing and exciting concept. And one of the all-time great movie titles, Snakes on a Plane, was nearly called “Pacific Air Flight 121” and only changed back at star Samuel L. Jackson’s insistence. And they made a movie about tiny people fighting for control of a forest, and what did they call it? Epic. I had trouble finding it in IMDB, because if you just search for “epic,” it returns all the movies that are classed as epics instead. What could be vaguer than naming something with a genre?

But The House etc... could be worst. There have been other movies with overly-long titles (The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill But Came Down a Mountain) and overly literal titles (Life as a House) and titles that make an interesting concept sound boring (John Carter,) but it’s amazing that they put them all in one movie.

Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #40 & 41

#40:

Superhero movies are more popular than ever. That's right, Batman made people forget about Superman IV, and it's been all success from there. Except Batman and Robin, you'll want to skip that one.

Anyway, the point is that now it's not just the biggest names that are getting their own movie franchises, even the more niche characters get big budgets.

#41:

You know Bob Ross, the super laid-back artist with a show on PBS? Sadly, he dies in 1995. But he is still well remembered, and is as much a pop-cultural icon as ever.

Anyway, put those two facts together, and, by 2018, this happens and it doesn't even seem weird:

This Post Is Keyboard Approved

There's a car dealership in the area, Barry Cullen Chevrolet in Guelph, that used to advertise heavily on local TV. All their ads were built around the idea that he was "The Regional Dealer." That might take the form of a simple slogan ("Come down to Barry Cullen Chevrolet, The Regional Dealer!") or claims of superior service ("When you're The Regional Dealer, you can offer the biggest rebates.") I found all this curious because he never actually explained what the hell a regional dealer was or what was so great about it.

I was thinking about this because Nissan has been running ads bragging about things being "factory approved." Their rebates, technology, option packages: they gleefully exclaim that it's all factory approved.

I have no idea why this is such a selling point. You sometimes hear the term "factory approved" when referring to replacement parts, just to assure you that they aren't some warranty-voiding knockoff. When you think about it, it's an anachronistic term; really, you need approval from the designers and engineers, and presumably their lawyers. The factory in a struggling right-to-work state where robots weld together parts freshly trucked-in from Mexico probably doesn't have the clout to approve anything in the company.

But is there really a problem with non-factory-approved sales prices? Have you ever received a thousand-off a car price, only to later find out that the factory didn't approve it? Even if the factory didn't approve, would you really have a problem with it? If anything, I think I'd be a little more inclined to buy a car if they could assure me that my deal is just between the dealer and me, because the factory would be real pissed-off if they found out.

But I'm being naive, what surely happened is that a focus group stumbled across the fact that "factory approved" really resonated with the demographics that buy cars, and they overreacted, and tried to call everything "factory approved.” Really, we should just be glad they weren’t claiming everything is “chocolate covered.”

Someone Needs Changing

I wonder if Hollywood has run out of ideas yet...

Getting close, but no.

I'm sure the marketing for this one will be pretty annoying, and there's still six weeks to go.  So at least consider this possibility: Sometime in the last few months, some studio exec had to stop and consider whether it was worth re-rendering the entire movie with a Trump-style toupée on the baby.

Low Marks From The Canadian Judge

One of the awkward aspects of the Olympics is that there is little correlation between athlete's efforts and rewards. To get good enough to win an Olympic medal, you have to work incredibly hard starting from a young age, passing on a lot of the rites of passage growing up. Your reward is huge but very brief fame. Yes, you definitely have to work hard to be successful at professional team sports as well, but it's easier to envision those athletes having happier lives. They get rewarded with lots of money, and it's easier to believe that they get enjoyment out of their sport. For an olympian in one of the simpler racing or strength sports, a competitor spends their young life repeating this same mind-numbing event, gets a huge but brief fame after winning a medal, and then suddenly has to decide what to do with the rest of their life.

That's why I was a little alarmed to see the recent P&G ad featuring a Chinese diver getting chewed-out by his coach. His mother tells him somewhat dispationately that he still has what it takes, and then he goes on to win. It's supposed to be heartwarming, but it gets much too close to my worry that Olympic athletes' dedication goes beyond sanity. It's bad enough with our own athletes, but I've always felt uncomfortable when it comes to athletes from totalitarian governments that see athletic prowess as a national priority. The thought that these competitors are getting pushed by perfectionist coaches is not plesant, even if they do ocassionally get parental pep-talks from a distance.

Of course, you wouldn't have seen this sort of thing during the Cold War. I mean, they might have done a commercial making us feel good about enemies comming together to compete in peace, but you wouldn't have seen any validation of the opponent's methods. Can you imagine an ad with an East German mother holding her teenage son's hand to reassure him while getting his first steroid injection?

I fear that this is a result of our modern business world. If you're a global brand associating itself with a global event, you need ads that play in all places. Or, rather, play in all markets. And sometimes that means glorifying China's relentless drive for perfection. Lest you think I'm being West-centric here, let me point out that I encourage the mixing of the world's cultures, but we really should export only the positive aspects of our cultures. For instance, it's wrong to hate on Americans, but it's hard to disagree with people who resent them dumping violent movies or vapid fast food on the rest of the world.

A Big Ball Of Wibbly-Wobbly, Timey-Wimey, Chickeny-Wickeny Stuff

If, like me, you enjoy trivia, you've probably seen a quiz or Internet listicle about which brand personnas were real people (Chef Boyardee, Duncan Hines) and which ones are made up (Betty Crocker, Mrs. Butterworth.) One that might surprise people is Colonel Sanders, of KFC fame, who was a real person. People older than me will remember seeing him in commercials, but people my age and under will only have seen him as a cartoon caricature, and probably assume he was made up just like Ronald McDonald.

I'm not old enough to remember him in ads, but his death in 1980 is one of the earliest news stories I can remember. That may not have been the biggest story back then, but for many kids, it was like being told that Santa was dead, so teachers had to patiently explain it to us. So that's why I cringe a little when I see the latest way that KFC has employed his image. Not that I have any connection to him - I can't even remember the last time I ate at KFC - but I do realize that it's an actual person that they're dealing with.

We've seen a few other people start the transition from human company founders and pitchmen to cartoon symbol: Orville Redenbacher and Wendy's Dave Thomas come to mind. I assume they wouldn't mind too much, since they were symbols of their brands in life, and creating a character to be a corporate figurehead. But even business leaders that seem more serious might be in a commercial down the road. A few years ago, Gottlieb Daimler showed up in a Mercedes ad, as a stilted way of introducing the new corporate slogan.

That ad had me imagining a future depiction of Bill Gates shown slaving over the original Edlin code, and saying the new slogan that will carry Microsoft into the 22nd century. Of course, that's ridiculous. Microsoft won't be in business that long. Though arguably Steve Jobs' public perception is about as exaggerated as any of these corpse corporate mascots, so maybe he's on his way to that fate.

But even if today's business superstars live on as corporate mascots, they'll still be playing catch-up to Colonel Sanders, who is now in his own comic book. Upon hearing about this, I assumed that it would be some cheesy corporate promotion that they would perhaps give out with whatever KFC calls it's Happy Meals. But no, it's an actual comic from DC, built around parallel Colonels from parallel universes. It's hard to tell what's going on from a quick glance, but they apparently have Russian Colonel, Stone Colonel, Sexy Colonel and Actual-Chicken Colonel.

I think it's safe to say this is a completely new level in the shift from person to symbol. On the one hand, it's nice to see a major brand having some fun with their mascot instead of taking themselves too seriously. But it's also weird to think that this cultural force was launched because some guy had a really good chicken recipe.

My Baby Drove Up In A Brand New Cadillac

I recently saw an item on Motoring TV with Cadillac introducing their latest model, the CT6. While promoting it, exec Uwe Ellinghaus was asked that old question about how they are going to attract younger buyers when they have a reputation as the old person's car. He has an interesting answer: he pointed out that the newest buyers are the children of the yuppies that fell in love with BMWs back in the 80's. So for them, German luxury cars are the old person's car, while they don't have much reason to be prejudiced against Cadillac.

That's an interesting lesson on how different generations can have different perspectives on the same items. But I'm not sure it's going to work out the way Cadillac is hoping. I mean, for the last twenty years, I've been waiting for Harley-Davidson's reputation to fall apart: for years now, their stereotypical badass rebel customers have been outnumbered by baby boomers desperate to rediscover their youth. And yet, a generation of middle-aged suburban customers hasn't diluted the brand's image. It seems that old people buying products isn't making them as uncool as they used to.

See, you would think that brand effects would go both ways. To use another automotive example, Porsche has a sporty image because of the sports cars it sells, allowing them to sell lots of SUVs to people who want to feel sporty. But you'd think that actual sporty people wouldn't want to buy Porsche sports cars anymore, since they sell SUVs to suburbanite posers. Yet that doesn't seem to happen; Porsche maintains its reputation however many overpowered family transporters it sells.

So why is this? It could be that marketeers are skilled enough to maintain a brand's identity through advertising. After all, Nike is still seen as the brand of Michael Jordan, even though on the strength of sheer numbers, they should be the brand of white teenagers with poor spending priorities.

Or maybe the association with different populations isn't as toxic as it once was. Much as the media continues to portray millennials as some alien race, the fact is that social media encourages us to seek out people with similar interests and perspectives, even if they have very different backgrounds. It could be that a young motorbike enthusiast feels more of a kinship with an elderly biker who at least shares some values, than with a young person who's okay with getting everywhere by public transit. Ironically the social media that young people embrace actually makes them more like everyone else in society.

Chief Administrative Officer Of Simpleton

I notice there's a local business called XTC. See, it sounds like "ecstasy" geddit? You occasionally see those letters used together, since:

• It sounds clever
• The word implies positive, joyful feeling
• For the last twenty years or so, it also implies a dangerous, rebellious side, thanks to the drug Ecstasy
• No one can remember how to spell extacy

Probably the most famous use of the alphabetic pun was the eighties new wave band XTC, though people unfamiliar with its previous use have been rediscovering and reusing the name ever since.  For instance there used to be a record store in Kitchener called "X-Disc-C." (I assume it would be unrelated to the business I saw today.

But what's worth mentioning here is that on closer inspection of the sign, I saw that this was "XTC Logistics." So I'm left wondering what led them to think that "ecstasy" was the thing needed to sell business logistics. Even before you get to the drug connection, that seems weird. And Ecstasy isn't exactly the drug you would want associated with business logistics; it doesn't sound too efficient. Surely you'd prefer to hire Crack Logistics.

So I can only assume that this business was founded by someone who was a big fan of the group.  Their best known song was "Making Plans for Nigel."  That's sort of like logistics.  But I'd still want to get a competing bid from Flock Of Seagulls before hiring them.

Short Films

Occasionally you see guerrilla marketing, where the intent is to get people talking about the ad itself, thereby creating a groundswell of word-of-mouth.  I try not to get involved in this, since I'd rather not be a part of someone's cut-rate marketing campaign.

But yesterday, I saw an element of guerrilla marketing, and thought it was both unusual and clever, but didn't mention it online to avoid being a pawn of advertisers.  But then I found myself wondering if I'd actually seen it, or just dreamt it up.  So I had to go online to reassure myself of my own sanity. 

If you are in the same boat, let me reassure you.  Yes, that was a tiny little billboard advertising the new Ant-Man movie.  It seems the campaign started a while back, but they must have ramped it up with the release in just over a week.  So no, I hadn't somehow forgotten that I'd taken a large dose of psychoactive drugs. 

So, an ant-sized billboard for a movie about a tiny superhero.  That is pretty funny, I have to admit.  It makes me sorry that this is probably the movie that will prove that Marvel can't be successful with all their characters.  But please do me a favour, and don't talk about this with anyone so I won't feel like a marketing tool.

It's Gotta Be Da Symbol

I remember when the Toronto Raptors and Vancouver Grizzlies entered the NBA and choose their names, they were congratulated by marketing experts. The reasoning was that by choosing animal names, they could easily create a nice recognizable logo that could be put on all kinds of products. Remember, this was the mid-nineties, when Michael Jordan was at the height of his fame, and every teenage boy on earth had at least one item of clothing with the Chicago Bulls logo on it. These marketing experts believed that the Bulls' marketability was due to their colourful, recognizable, easily reproducible logo.

That was the point I realized that most of the self-appointed experts commenting on things in the media are idiots. Really, they expected us to believe that the ubiquity of that symbol was due to the bull himself, with no credit apparently going to that Jordan guy, or the Nike marketing machine.

...and upside-down, it looks like an angry robot reading a book

But there is something to be said for a symbol's ability to, you know, symbolize. I mean, I'm sure the 90's Bulls could have used the poop emoji as a logo and still would have sold a billion shirts and hats, but that's assuming it's a recognizable poop emoji. If a team has a plain, forgettable logo, its hard to convey their fame and adoration into merchandise sales. As an example, the New York football Giants and San Francisco baseball Giants have both won multiple championships in recent years, but their lack of real logos have prevented them from becoming popular on clothing.

This all came to mind recently because the Raptors - in their latest attempt to turn the page on their sorry franchise history - have adopted a new logo, and it's a basketball with the seams shredded, presumably by a Raptor's claws. So rather than show the raptor, it shows indirect evidence of the raptor's presence. It's clever. Not quite Hartford-Whalers-negative-space-H clever, but pretty clever. But the point is, the logo doesn't have a raptor, the distinctive aspect of the team. Those marketing experts from twenty-years ago would be horrified.

I'm not really sold on it either. It's nice and simple and reasonably attractive, but not real distinctive. As many fans have been pointing out, it looks quite reminiscent the symbol of the Brooklyn Nets, who are not only a hated rival, but also one of the ultimate how-the-hell-do-we-get-a-logo-out-of-this nicknames.

I've found a number of fan-made logo proposals on the net from the last few years. Some are amateur, some urge new nicknames altogether (especially reviving the "Huskies" name.) But some are actually pretty good. Good enough that I'd choose them over the new logo.

Pub Reporter

I'm always surprised at how people see pubs. I have a British background, so they're part of my cultural heritage. But I thought that even the most myopically North American had the basic idea: it's like a bar, but built around taking, eating and drinking, rather than dancing, dating and drinking. It's more classic than modern, they have food you've never heard of, and fries are called chips.

And yet, people throw the name around to mean pretty much anything. In university, I wrote an article for the math students' newsletter lampooning the university's food services for listing gyros under the heading "pub grub". That lead to someone writing a snarky letter pointing out that the university's pub served gyros. That didn't seem like much of a justification, since that establishment didn't seem very pub-like either.  Yes, I know I'm sort-of committing the True Scotsman Fallacy, but I don't think that a place University students go to get drunk is an exemplar of pub culture.

And now Chunky soup has a line of "pub inspired" soups. I'm sure they have soup at pubs, but it's not the first thing you associate with them. A quick search for "pub food" seems to confirm that in most pubs, the favourite soup is not Chunky, but Guinness.

And the flavours don't even pretend to fit pub culture. Alehouse Shepherd’s Pie is fine, but Blazin' Roadhouse Chili-Style? Chipotle Sirloin Burger? Meatball Bustin’ Sausage Rigatoni? And stranger, they're marketing these soups as an antidote for emasculation. Apparently, there's a big market for products that help men convince themselves they are men, but Chunky is really stretching it. Also, pubs don't seem like centres of masculinity, at least on this side of the Atlantic. And soups aren't real masculine as foods go. It seems like marketers drew topics out of a hat and thought they could associate them together through sheer repetition.

Have A Coke And A Name

Coca-Cola has a promotion on now, where it is putting names on their cans and bottles. I've seen some displays of bottles where the names are people's names, though the cans sold by the case just have generic titles like "friend" or one of many family relations. And I notice a gender bias there; I just went through a case of twelve that contained three "Mom"s but no "Dad"s. Where are you on that one, Men's Rights Activists?

I noticed that the bin of Coke bottles at the grocery store had names, but a quick glance showed that they were very modern names. Easy to find a "Dylan" bottle, but "John" is out of luck.

That's quite a shift. When I was a kid, I couldn't always count on finding a "Jason" item on pre-made name things. And that was in spite of Jason being the top male name in my cohort. The named-item industry was that slow to react to the changing popularity of names.

But not today, not with Coca-Cola. They've done their homework. And that in itself is somewhat depressing. You know that someone, somewhere in the marketing department studied the popularity of names, and put together some formula that would give the optimum quantity of each name, given its popularity in a given age range, and the company's need to promote its products with that age group. I bet they even did a calculation to figure out how many extra "Dylan" bottles they'd have to print to satisfy the baby boomer music fans who would buy it for the novelty.

And Now I Complain About A Car I Could Never Afford

You might be surprised that a car guy could run a blog for more than a year without dissing the Porsche Cayenne, their popular but controversial SUV.  Well, here it goes.

A lot of people defend it, by pointing out that it allows Porsche to keep up their financially-iffy business of building sports cars.  Though fans may not realize just how much the Cayenne props up the company: almost half of all Porsches sold worldwide are Cayennes.  As some have sarcastically pointed out, Porsche has become an SUV company that also makes sports cars.

It's sort of like a concept in the auto business known as the "halo car."  That's a car model that doesn't necessarily make the company much (or any) money, but is worth producing because it changes people's perception of the brand, because it’s sporty, luxurious, or technologically advanced.  The Corvette is probably the best-known example.  But Porsche has turned this concept on its head.  Instead of using a cool car to make a stable of boring cars more palatable, they make a bunch of cool cars plus a practical car to make money.

What I find odd about the Cayenne is how far it stretches the brand concept.  We're all used to the idea of using coolness to sell ordinary products to people who don't need the product’s capabilities.  I'm thinking of say, a person who wants to seem athletic, so they buy Nike shoes, which they just use to walk around Wal-Mart.  That's silly, but at least there's some sense to it.  Those shoes could conceivably be used for sports, and the customer is buying a sporty shoe to associate themselves with sports.

The same concept works in the car biz.  There are plenty of sports cars that have never seen a track, and SUVs that never leave asphalt.  But with the Cayenne, you're trying to feel sporty by buying a vehicle made to go off road, but was designed by a sports car company.  That would be like the aforementioned shoe buyer trying to feel athletic by buying Nike Crocs.