If you've got the time, I've got the cliche

When I was a kid, growing up outside Richmond, I looked forward to the rare occasions when we got to go downtown. Richmond is a historic place — and the Virginia capitol is a wonder to behold (particularly when you're a tween-ager fascinated by all things Civil War).

But my favorite attraction was a few blocks over. I'm talking, of course, about the Times-Dispatch news presses. Back then, the paper was printed downtown, and you could stand right there on the sidewalk and watch the presses roll.

All these years later, and I can't help it. I'm utterly fascinated with printing presses. When I was a magazine publisher, I volunteered for the inconvenient flight to Baraboo, Wisconsin, as often as my schedule permitted, just so I could hole up in my hotel room til 2 or 3 in the morning, waiting patiently for the call letting me know it was time to do the press check. Since my production manager back then was terrified of flying, it was a win-win for everyone. But mostly me, since I got to stand there ready to shout "STOP THE PRESSES" if necessary.

It never was. Sigh.

Here's something I bet you didn't know about the printing press: That invention is what made the protestant Reformation happen. (What, you don't think Martin Luther hand-printed hundreds — nay, thousands — of copies of his 91 theses? You don't think that one copy he nailed to the church door was enough to spark a global shift in religion?)

Here's another — the word stereotype has itself been stereotyped!

That's right. Stereotype gets a bad rap, when in fact the original stereotype was a mighty useful implement to old-world pressmen. (Don't even get me started on "typecast.")

Seriously, before the internet, before desktop publishing, before electricity, printing plates were set quite literally one letter at a time. These plates — called stereotypes — took a long time to produce. To save time, typesetters would keep templates of words and phrases they used on a regular basis. These templates of ready-to-use phrases were called — wait for it — cliches.

Nowadays, cliches are stereotyped (did I just say that?). Marketing experts warn you to avoid using them, um, at all costs.

Sure, I don't ever need to hear "I'm not a doctor but I play one on TV" again. "But wait — there's more" has lost any authenticity it may have once held.

But cliches are cliches for a reason — these are journeyman phrases, immediately recognized by almost everyone in almost every demographic. They've stood the test of time.

Today's cliche can accomplish for a marketer exactly what yesteryear's cliche accomplished for the pressman: enable important information to be conveyed in a recognizable, easily understandable manner.

Now, don't go jumping the shark! I'm not suggesting that you recycle old material in your advertising just because it might be recognizable.

Please don’t consider this a license to announce your one-stop shop for once in a lifetime opportunities. I don’t think I could handle taking those to the next level.

And no, I am definitely NOT suggesting that you start thinking outside the box.

But you can draw inspiration — not to mention audience — from a clever twist on a cliche.

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Don't let Jeffrey M. Peyton's accolades, business accomplishments or cool demeanor fool you. The Sun's regional director of marketing has wing-walked on an airplane at 700 feet, co-piloted the Goodyear Blimp, swam with sharks, and managed to obtain paperwork officially declaring him “legally sane.”