[wordup] bob kolody vs. coca cola

[Adam Shand]

[oops, been in the queue for a long time, still kinda interesting though -
adam]

as always there's some fairly thoughtful comments at the K5 site (as well
as some drivel).  i haven't had a chance to read this properly yet so i
won't comment but i think it's interesting.

i've included the intro and part 1, you'll have to go to the web site for
the rest.

URL: http://www.guerrillanews.com/cocakarma/
Via: http://www.kuro5hin.org/?op=displaystory;sid=2001/6/18/215616/341

Coca-Karma: The Very Secret Battle of Bob Kolody vs. Coca-Cola (KO)

Prologue: April 18, 2001

When the shareholders of Coca-Cola file into the Playhouse Theatre in
Wilmington, Delaware this morning for their annual meeting you can bet
that the last name they'll have on their minds is that of Bob Kolody. What
with the recent resignation of President and COO Jack Stahl, Chairman Doug
Daft's failed attempt to buy Quaker Oats, and the recent court ruling that
awarded close to $200 million dollars in damages to Johnny Cochran's
racial discrimination suit, they've got enough names to worry about. Not
to mention the fact that their stock is selling for $45, thirty percent
off the 52 week high of $64. Right about where it was 5 years ago.

But if some of those shareholders knew the story that you are about to
read, they would have good reason to question Coca-Cola Chairman Doug Daft
about Bob Kolody. They would be fascinated to know that for the past four
years Coke has employed one of the country's top intellectual property
lawyers to defend a case that it has never identified in its annual SEC
filings. What's more, the $4 billion lawsuit has gone totally unreported
by a national media that has, of late, reveled in the prospect of major
U.S.  corporations involved in trials that could cost hundreds of millions
of dollars in damages.

Today GNN begins its first installment of an exclusive Special Report that
breaks wide open one of the most intriguing cases in corporate legal
history.

The story begins with a major advertising agency stealing an independent
consultant's story-boards and culminates with allegations that Coke filed
fraudulent copyright applications and enacted a high-level form of
espionage against their legal opponent. What's more, the federal judge in
the case has been accused of having links to organized crime. Tantalizing?
You bet. And we're only getting started...

Part One: Classic Coke, Classic Cars

The first time I hear about Bob Kolody I'm sitting in the kitchen of a
mansion owned by a renegade (Fortune 500) accountant down in Tennessee.
I'm on assignment, shooting interviews for an upcoming Guerrilla NewsVideo
and my subject has taken a break to fill his glass with more premium
Scotch.  Intermittently dragging on a Camel cigarette and taking bold
gulps from his crystal snifter, he is breaking down the complex structure
of Warren Buffett's stock operation. I sit at the table, mesmerized by the
sheer complexity of this realm of corporate intelligence. Suddenly, he
throws me a look that blurs the line between threat and curiosity.

"You want to know something that will really blow your mind?"

"Of course."

"You ever hear of Bob Kolody?"

"Who?"

"Bob Kolody vs. Coca-Cola. It's a case being tried on the 7th Circuit.
Check it out. It's probably the best kept secret in the United States
federal court system and, if exposed for what it is, could critically
damage Coca-Cola's entire corporate stability."

Now hit the skip button. It's one month later. I'm grabbing my bags from
the overhead compartment in a crowded American Trans Airways plane.
Passengers are shuffling past, getting ready to disembark for the 2 hour
layover between San Francisco and New York at Chicago's Midway Airport.
Suddenly the speaker next to my ear crackles and announces that I am to
report to the ATA desk at the arrival gate.

I've never heard my name announced on a plane before. It gives me the
uncomfortable feeling of simultaneous exultation and dread; ephemeral
omens that inaugurate my relationship with Bob Kolody.

Disembarking, I approach the gate and see a tall, gangly, white-haired man
standing next to the flight attendant. He spies my dreads and immediately
extends his hand to take my bag. If nothing else, Bob Kolody is polite to
a fault and a very quick study.

"Steve, thanks for coming."

This airport meeting is the culmination of a series of extended phone
calls initiated by my Tennessee source. Over the past month I have been
thrown into the information maelstrom that is Bob Kolody and his tireless
crusade to exact justice from the world's single most powerful brand
commodity.  Since my first discussion with Kolody from GNN's west coast
bunker, my life has become saturated with the legal minutiae that confirms
at every level the fact that this may just be the most potently disastrous
legal entanglement that Coca-Cola has ever attracted. And to think it is
all because of the slightly rumpled individual leading me through the
crowded terminal to Midway's confectionary...

To know the facts is almost to disbelieve them.

A Corporate Theft

Back in January 1989 an independent marketing consultant named Bob Kolody
pitched Simon Marketing - the national ad agency for Coca-Cola - with a
game concept that played off the company's new brand identity: Classic
Coke. His idea was to revitalize the 60's era Coca-Cola can designs and
create a nostalgic 'educational' gaming experience which he called Name
That Car. Images of old cars would adorn the cans and they would do a tie
in with Ford and McDonald's that linked the 35th anniversary of the Ford
Thunderbird and the 30th anniversary of the original Coke can. Consumers
could win prizes by correctly guessing the make, model and year of the car
featured on the can.

Pretty innocuous stuff. But Simon Marketing liked it so much they asked
Kolody to come back down to Los Angeles for further meetings with a full
presentation of his game concept. For this second round pitch, Kolody
created an extensive story-board elaboration of his idea which
incorporated a graphic collusion of Coca-Cola and automobile memorabilia.
Once again, the concept was met with enthusiastic response and Kolody was
booked for a final meeting at Simon's Chicago office. After this
presentation, Simon's executives asked if they could use his boards in
their presentation to their superiors. Kolody was excited. He agreed to
leave them with all of his original story-boards, returned home and waited
to be contacted.

After a few months and minimal response, Kolody called Simon Marketing in
an attempt to get his story-boards back. No one would return his messages.
He then instructed his lawyer, Bob Ward, to initiate correspondence with
Simon's attorneys. These efforts yielded minimal results. Simon claimed to
have lost the boards and were completely inattentive to the distress
Kolody felt about their abrupt about-face and lack of respect for his lost
property.

Fast forward to September, 1989. Kolody is in a 7-11 when he spots a
Cherry Coke can with a new design graphic: emblazoned on the can's cover
is a '59 Cadillac convertible, just as it had appeared on his
story-boards. Concerned that the design is an infringement of his game
concept, Kolody instructs Ward to investigate Simon's breach of the
confidentiality agreement. In a long trail of letters and phone calls,
Simon totally denies any connection between the Cherry Coke campaign and
Kolody's presentation. With little choice left but to press his case in
court, Kolody approaches Ward with a proposal to represent him on
contingency. Ward is sympathetic but his firm refuses to sanction the deal
on the basis that they deem the case too risky (and potentially costly) of
an undertaking.

Kolody is disappointed but not diverted. Never one to abandon a fight, he
begins a meticulous pattern of correspondence with various Simon Marketing
executives and associated lawyers. And though no one will help him
directly, several do confirm that there are certainly aspects of his claim
that deserve independent scrutiny. At the least, he maintains, he wants
his story-boards back. Finally, a year and a half after his Classic Coke,
Classic Cars pitch , Kolody receives some of his original story-boards
from Simon Marketing. The rest, Simon claims, are lost. Feeling cheated,
Kolody begins his own campaign to reach Coca-Cola directly but to no
avail. He has been shut out by the vast, inhuman corporate machine.

Now this is where it gets complicated... and nefarious. So stick with me:

Kolody's game concept was based on revitalizing the nostalgia for late
50's and early 60's soda pop and car culture. Coca-Cola's launch of New
Coke had totally failed and he saw an opportunity to use their hasty
re-introduction of Classic Coke as a vehicle for combining these aspects
into a national campaign of collectible memorabilia. This is the reason
that Simon Marketing was so attracted to the idea. By tapping into the
historical depth of Coke's one hundred year-old brand, they could create
an endless array of designs and products to capture the minds of children
and baby boomers alike. And few images have the power to conjure memories
like the original Coke can that Kolody had used so prominently in his
pitch. Here's why:

Back in 1960, when Coke first introduced the revolutionary notion of
canned soft drinks, they were faced with a serious problem. People had
always consumed soda out of glass bottles and were skeptical of the new
innovation and its unverifiable contents. Coca-Cola's marketing team, ever
faithful in the power of suggestion, reasoned that the image of the bottle
might be enough to re-assure them that the product was still the same,
just in a new package. So they placed a graphic image of the old-fashioned
`contour bottle' on the new can and rolled out the product with a big
campaign. It was a huge hit with consumers and cans became a regular form
of drink packaging. This implementation, referred to as the `contour
bottle on the can', lasted only a few years before being replaced by
Coke's trademark `contour ribbon' of the 1970's.

That is, until Bob Kolody resuscitated it for his Classic Coke, Classic
Cars pitch to Simon Marketing in 1989. His story-boards were covered with
various re-incorporations (derivatives) of the old Coke can designs and,
more importantly, the now forgotten image of the "contour bottle on the
Coca-Cola can." And Bob Kolody, who had now become resigned to the fact
that he had been the victim of an unrecoverable corporate theft, was about
to realize just how valuable his ideas had become.

In January, 1994 Kolody was walking through Chicago's Midway Airport on
his way to Boulder for a meeting with Schwinn Bicycle. As he was boarding
the plane he spotted a woman holding a Classic Coke can. Suddenly he
stopped and felt the blood rush from his face. Something about the label
had caught him off guard. As the woman tilted the can to her mouth he saw
what it was. There, on the side of the can, was a full-length detailed
image of the contour bottle.

Kolody boarded the plane in shock. Immediately upon landing in Denver, he
went to an airport bar and bought a can of Coke. The contour bottle image
was just as he had seen it at Midway.  Kolody contacted Ward and explained
what he had discovered. Though Ward was still unable to devote the kind of
time that a major suit against Coca-Cola would require, he agreed to
donate administrative assistance to Kolody's case that Simon and Coca-Cola
were potentially guilty of copyright infringement and the calculated
dissemination of his intellectual property. At that moment Kolody decided
to quit his private ad agency and devote the entirety of his efforts to
attaining justice from one of the most successful corporate litigants of
the 20th Century.