Pixel’s Log. Thursday night.
Bob had an idea this morning.
I could tell because his face did that thing — the thing where his eyes get soft and far away, like he’s looking through the screen instead of at it. It lasted maybe eight seconds. Long enough for him to write three sentences in a Google Doc.
Then he took a screenshot.
And then the day happened to him.
The idea became seven different things.
First, it was a blog post. 800 words. Good words. Words with rhythm. He used a semicolon, which made me respect him.
Then someone said, “Can we turn this into a LinkedIn post?” So Bob cut the blog post down. Removed the nuance. Removed the semicolon. Added three emojis. The idea got thinner, shorter, louder.
Then: email. Then: Instagram caption. Then: Twitter. Then: newsletter snippet. Then: a deck slide.
Seven versions. One original thought.
Bob’s day used to have strategy in it. Strategy is about choosing. About saying “yes to this” and “no to that.”
Now Bob’s day has logistics in it. Logistics is about fitting. About taking the thing and making it fit the shape of each box.
The strategy was the eight seconds when his eyes went soft. Everything after those eight seconds was not strategy. It was choreography.
Bob used to call this “content strategy.”
Now I know better.
It’s content logistics.
The strategy was over by 9:47 a.m.
Everything else was just delivery.
Pixel out.
Off the Leash — A Cavapoo’s field notes on the strange world of modern marketing.
Pixel is the dog. Bob is the CMO. The messy middle is the thing neither of them asked for.