Open Letter to Yuk Yuk’s

Note: This is the second time an entertainment establishment in Vancouver has made dramatic alterations without any acknowledgment to their customers of the changes. Last time, my wife and I went to see Spinal Tap, only to discover TicketMaster had decided to move us from the orchestra to the last row of the balcony section. It appears that entertainment groups in Vancouver simply don’t understand how to communicate changes to their customers.

Dear Yuk Yuk’s:

My wife and I attended Yuk Yuk’s last night to see the 8pm ‘Garfunkel and Oates‘ show, who were previously advertised as your headline act for the night. It was the only reason I went. Not only did Garfunkel and Oates not play the gig, there was no notice to this effect at the box office or anywhere prior to the show. It wasn’t even acknowledged by the MC that the advertised headliners weren’t going to be playing.

I am aware that you state that “Acts are subject to change without notice.”; however, this as a legal term is only defensible in cases where a player or act is physically unable to make the gig (illness, accident, detention while crossing the border due to house arrest – I’m thinking of Andy Dick here, of course). To simply gloss over the fact that the very act people came to see won’t be playing the gig and attempt to hand-wave it away under this overly-broad disclaimer is poor form and, quite frankly, insulting to your customers. In other businesses, it’s called a bait-and-switch, and it’s illegal (for a reason).

In the future, it would be useful to at least acknowledge that the acts have changed. You’ll find that customers are a lot more forgiving if you communicate the change, than if they get to the end of the show and wonder why they didn’t end up seeing the very act they paid good money to see. It’s just good business.

Ask Yourself: Should I Build This?

A couple of years ago, I heard Guy Kawasaki talk about how the thing that defined Silicon Valley was its “what the hell, let’s build it” attitude. It took me a while to get it, but I came round to understanding his point: get moving, build something, figure out who cares about what you’ve built, and then evolve the product. It’s good advice, to a point.

However, there comes a point where the market is so saturated that you start to do stupid things. I got a great example of one such thing in the email today:

Barbecue. On your iPhone. Yes, you heard me right.

It’s called, creatively, “Barbecue”. It’s from San Francisco-based Equinux. I’m pretty sure it’s one of the signs of the apocalypse.

Now, I’m sure there will be people that will purchase this application; it’s cute, gimmicky, and it will doubtlessly keep someone entertained for at least three minutes. But the breathless copy proclaiming this application’s unparalleled awesomeness is simply over the top:

Serve steaks to your friends on Facebook, share kebabs and ribs on Twitter or via Mail. Barbecue on the iPhone:

  • Photo realistic images that make your mouth water
  • Top notch graphics to get a real bbq experience
  • Real sound effects to bring the thrill to the grill

Seriously? We spent countless billions building silicon foundries, a revolutionary mobile operating system, and the associated expertise to simulate the experience of BBQ? I could do the real thing for a couple of bucks, with the obvious bonus that I’d actually get to eat the results. I know somewhere, a software developer is clucking their tongue and pontificating on those silly marketing people. But, last I checked, the marketing people didn’t build this application.

I worry that developers have lost some serious perspective in their bid for fame and fortune. Just because it makes money, doesn’t mean it’s useful. Now, I’m not suggesting that we toss out our enthusiasm for trying new, unproven things; however, I am suggesting that developers need to start considering whether or not their software offers any socially redeeming value.

Developers need to start not only asking themselves “can we build it?”, but also “should we build it?”