By Tracy Dingmann

Are you annoyed by the little couches dancing across the front of your Albuquerque Journal? Or by tiny skiers schussing through the “snow” on the bottom of the sports page?

From what I’ve observed, old school journalists and long-time readers alike really hate those front-page strip advertisements – they are annoying and distracting and seem a bit desperate.

Well, imagine how the readers of The Oregonian felt last week when their entire paper came wrapped in a giant ad. The double-sided ad – known in the business as a spadea – was purchased by Oregonians Against Job-Killing Taxes, at a cost of $25,000. The anti-tax group bought the ad right before a crucial election in which voters were asked to approve two measures that would increase tax rates on corporations and the wealthy.

The many Oregonian readers who protested were annoyed…and some were even confused. Was this message coming from the paper, as part of the editorial content? A couple of things led some readers to be unsure.

The paper’s editorial board had in fact come out with an editorial a few days before, urging readers to vote no. The advertisement that came wrapped around the paper read, “The Oregonian’s editorial board urges voters to VOTE NO on Measures 66 and 67.” The ad carried both the Oregonian’s nameplate… and a disclaimer saying “paid advertisement.”

Supporters of the tax measures cried foul, saying the advertisements were confusing. Readers started a Facebook page called “The Oregonian Stinks,” (currently at 42 members).

Journalism ethicists took note, including Tim Gleason, dean of the University of Oregon’s School of Journalism, who told the media criticism site Oregon Media Central that the ad is a “symbol of the degree to which financial pressures are influencing news decision-making,” and warns that “the credibility of any news organization is challenged when the line between advertising and editorial content is blurred.”

Later it emerged that Mario Van Dongen, The Oregonian’s director of sales and marketing, had a policy prohibiting political spadeas, because, as he told Oregon Media Central, “…a political ad might take advantage of the placement and make it look like it’s a newspaper statement.”

But the policy wasn’t written down and Van Dongen was away from his office when the ad deal was made (huh)?

In the end, it was not clear how much that wraparound ad even mattered – the election was held Tuesday night and the measures were easily approved.

All of this industry talk got me thinking about how all of this might go over if it happened in Albuquerque.

I mean, spadeas are a very old method of advertising, and other newspapers still do use them.

So I called the Journal’s advertising department and, after I listened to a whole The Carpenter’s song on hold, a nice lady came on and told me that the Journal doesn’t sell those kinds of ads.

The end.

So I guess we don’t have to worry about that happening at the Albuquerque Journal.

Thank goodness! Those tiny dancing couches are annoying enough.