What the Fiti?
Posted July 14, 2006 at 11:52 am by Mike SeelyI wandered into the venerable, all-hours Hurricane Cafe at about 9 this morning to attempt to do what only a heaping plate of Hurricane hashbrowns can do: squelch a murderous goddamnhangover. For those of you who've ascertained from this blog that I have something of an affinity for hooch (last night's poison: Tuaca, Kentucky Bourbon, Tequila, Rainier, and Busch), a gold star. Moreover, I generally loathe technological advances that impede chance human interaction and real-time, face-to-face dialogue. So just where do Hurricane hashbrowns, my affinity for hooch, and new technology come to a crossroads?
Wiffiti, ma'am.
The Hurricane, you see, is the guinea pig for what could well become the next megafad in the handheld communication realm. In short, it's like text messaging meets karaoke meets Jean-Michel Basquiat. Behind the breakfast bar at the Hurricane, in front of an old man with a straw cowboy hat nursing a good-morning Budweiser and hot dog, was a mysterious plasma screen with multiple, frequently updated messages in variously-sized fonts like "my ostrich had a current affair with Ali," "the bonesmith haunts my dreams and Chula Vista," "Nose-pierced fox in booth four: Tu eres en fuego" and "Tito loves Cory, but only if she drops 24 lbs." Stuff like that—mostly gobbledygook. The messages are specific to Hurricane patrons and those who've got the screen's access code plugged into their cellies and handhelds. Theoretically, if one thought the guy with the frosted tips and Abercrombie abs two booths down was shagworthy, one could say so on the Wiffiti screen (tastefully, mind you—the messages are moderated/edited for naughty lingo).
LocaModa CEO Stephen Randall, who runs the Boston-based company responsible for Wiffiti, thinks he's got his fingers on the next big thing. He also rejects my notion that shit like this impairs the social development of humans.
"What's happening now is we kind of need technology as a prop," says Randall. "You go into a Starbucks and you see people on laptops working and they don't look up. The Wiffiti screen gets people to look up and socialize. A screen in a location gives people a way to say, 'This is my voice, and maybe you want to talk to me.' Also, I think it's easier to take rejection than walking up to someone and offering to buy them a drink. So I think the technology is actually helping interaction, not hindering it. We've had loads of marriage proposals."
The Hurricane's cost-free Wiffiti screen is sponsored by Network Truth—the people behind those antitobacco ads—which is sort of ironic, considering the Hurricane's coffee and cigarettes ethos. That's effectively LocaModa's money-making model.
"[Truth] is managed by Arnold Worldwide in Boston," says Randall. "They came to us with a similar problem as a lot of [ad] agencies—that kids aren't watching TV. What we evangelize is we believe the web isn't going to stop at the desk or the couch. Screens and phones are ubiquitous, and we're connecting the two."
Randall says he approached the Hurricane, currently the city's only Wiffiti purveyor, after a tip from "a guy who was working on the [Howard] Dean campaign." Initially, Hurricane owner Neil Scott says he thought Wiffiti sounded "corny," but after giving the screen a test drive before a pack of his late night devotees, he came around.
"What they're going for definitely fits a lot of our clientele," says Scott. "It's definitely more popular with the late-night crowd. They'll write stuff like 'cute girl sitting in the blue shirt,' but most of it is just random thoughts. They're trying to promote a freedom of speech type of thing."
Guess that depends on what your definition of speech is.
Topics: Business, Media, TV, and Web/Blogging
