Sunday, March 15, 1998

Welcome to Pepsi Cola High School

By Dale McFeatters

The early warning signs are everywhere.

The Colorado Springs school district signs a 10-year, $8 million deal with Coke in return for giving the soft drink company a shot at selling the little scholars 70,000 cases of Coke products annually.

In Texas, schools on the flight path of the Dallas-Ft. Worth airport have sold Dr. Pepper and Seven Up the right to paint their logos on the roof. The school system's phone number answers with a recorded plug for a local fitness center.

In another Colorado school district, phone company U S West is kicking in $1.25 million toward a new high school football stadium in return for the district including its sales pitches in mailings to parents.

Will it stop there? Of course not. This is America.

The public schools desperately need cash. Businesses have cash but need to advertise to reach customers. The public schools, in so far as the local truancy laws are enforced, can provide a captive audience of nature's most voracious consumers, teenagers.

Sports is the logical place to start. The rampant commercialism of the pros has already infected the colleges and will soon trickle down to the senior high, junior high and even grade schools.

First, there will be a few billboards, a few swooshes on the uniforms and then will come the big time. The pros play in the Qualcomm Stadium and the MCI Arena. Why shouldn't cash-strapped Ulysses S. Grant High School sign a deal with VIN&SPRIT AB so its Fighting Generals teams can play in the Absolut Vodka Field House?

An exclusive shoe retailing contract with a grade school could be a lot better deal for Nike than a college because: (a) little kids go through shoes so much faster and (b) their parents have more money than college students.

From sports, the commercialism will move to the school buildings themselves. Logos on the roof are fine for reaching airline passengers, but to make intimate direct contact with the neighbors, a company would probably pay a lot to put a billboard on the roof or a neon sign.

Many schools are named after payrollers and bureaucrats or non-existent geographic locations, Oak Knolls Manor Farm Elementary School. A wealthy corporate CEO seeking an image upgrade would fork over a lot for the honor of the Chainsaw Al Dunlap Junior High. Instead of flunking out, a pupil would be downsized.

A company with really big bucks might find a really desperate school, and we would have the 1-800-CALL-ATT COLLECT High School.

The cost of school supplies could be covered by letting Toys-R-Us and Tower Records print little ads on the test papers. Schools send tons of stuff home for parents to sign, so teachers could augment their salaries by slipping in credit card and time share applications.

PTAs are always selling gift wrap, citrus fruit, raffle tickets and candy. Why not, for a decent commission, mutual funds, annuities and life insurance?

Let us not forget to and from school. School buses are huge, blank yellow canvases just waiting for ads like those on city buses and taxis. School bus advertising would be more valuable because every time the school bus stops, all traffic must stop too, giving the commuter more leisure to peruse the bus.

A well known meat packer, which advertises heavily to youngsters, would probably be delighted to pay some school transportation department to ferry the little scholars to and fro in huge Oscar Mayer Wienermobiles.

The students are already walking billboards for Fila, Tommy Hilfiger, sports teams and various resorts, so it's only fair the schools should get a cut. Why not go the final step and sell advertising rights on the kids? We could call it school uniforms.

Scripps Howard News Service