London Calling—Ukraine says thank you
Ukraine’s defence ministry has found the time to cut a social media video thanking the UK for its assistance during the war on the eve of the coronation of King Charles III.
The Ukrainian stratcom teams are probably the best on the planet at the moment, and their creative content make for case studies in communication. Why? Their messages get across and are meaningful to the target viewership, and that’s the key to communication.
Mick’s T-Shirt
On a personal note, I actually met The Clash when I was 12 years old. I was working in my parents’ restaurant over the summer, washing dishes in the kitchen. The Clash had come to Toronto in August to do a concert. I almost screamed when I found out that The Clash were sitting in our restaurant dining room. “You’ll never guess who’s here,” said my Uncle Rob, as he was dropping dirty plates in the wash bin. “The Clash!” I almost fainted…OMG…The Clash!
“Rob, Rob,” I begged, “promise me you’ll ask for their autographs before they leave.” He came back into the kitchen and told me he couldn’t get their autographs…but…and in waltzed Mick Jones. I almost fainted again.
Mick asked me about my job. “I wash dishes here,” I answered. I think he appreciated the proletarian nature of job because something great happened.
Mick proposed exchanging t-shirts instead of just giving me an autograph. YES! He took his off, and I gave him mine, my Ziggy Number One T-Shirt from New York with a rainbow across the top. The Italian chef did a double take when he saw me stripping right there by the dish rack—I wasn’t wearing a bra. Mick was a skinny guy at the time, and I was…generous. So he was swimming in my Ziggy T while I looked like a stuffed sausage in his, and could hardly move…but…I WAS WEARING MICK’S T-SHIRT.
At the top of the newshour at midnight, CTV had featured a clip from their concert, and I could clearly see my Ziggy-I-Love-New-York T. What a thrill.
And the Ukrainian stratcom teams have struck again. I’m brought back to one of the best teenage stories of my life, and I’ve been playing the video on loop since it’s hit social media. I’m tempted to say: Ukrainians are too cool for words.
Lyrics to London Calling—The Clash
London calling to the faraway towns
Now war is declared and battle come down
London calling to the underworld
Come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls
London calling, now don't look to us
Phony Beatlemania has bitten the dust
London calling, see we ain't got no swing
Except for the ring of the truncheon thing
The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in
Meltdown expected, the wheat is growing thin
Engines stop running, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning
I live by the river
London calling to the imitation zone
Forget it, brother, you can go it alone
London calling to the zombies of death
Quit holding out and draw another breath
London calling and I don't want to shout
But while we were talking, I saw you nodding out
London calling, see we ain't got no high
Except for that one with the yellowy eye
The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in
Engines stop running, the wheat is growing thin
A nuclear era, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning
I, I live by the river
The ice age is coming, the sun's zooming in
Engines stop running, the wheat is growing thin
A nuclear era, but I have no fear
'Cause London is drowning
I, I live by the river
Now get this
London calling, yes, I was there, too
And you know what they said? Well, some of it was true
London calling at the top of the dial
And after all this, won't you give me a smile?
I never felt so much alike, alike, alike, alike
May 6: Ukraine: London calling