‘TAKE OFF, EH!’ (CAN WE SAY THAT?)
SECRETS FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE CANADIAN TRADEMARKS DATABASE
At any moment, the average Canadian is basting in a vast landscape of trademarks: symbols, words or even basic sounds whose ownership has been fiercely staked out and defended. And they can all be found on the Canadian Trademarks Database.
The National Post sifted through hundreds of trademark filings and found the following unexpected examples from the unbelievably complex world of Canadian trademark law.
The NHL, naturally, owns everything it possibly can — depict the Stanley Cup on a T-shirt without permission, and you can expect an immediate call from NHL lawyers. The National Hockey League owns the design of the iconic trophy — as well as the right to depict it on everything from “hosiery” to “lampshades.”
The NHL also owns the names and logos of a catalogue of defunct hockey teams: the Seattle Metropolitans, the Atlanta Thrashers, the Montreal Maroons and the Quebec Nordiques, among others.
This is to protect the teams from unauthorized merchandising and also ensures that the NHL can collect a heftier payday if these teams are ever resurrected. When the Winnipeg Jets were brought back in 2011, among the dumptrucks of money owners had to pay the NHL was the right to use the Jets name and logo.
A GRAVEYARD OF TERRIBLE SLOGANS
Long after they have disappeared from public consciousness, bad corporate slogans continue to survive in dusty intellectual property registries. These include Canadian Tire’s Orwellian “The Right Choice Has Never Been So Clear.” Or Tim Hortons’ bland “Great Coffee Everytime.” But the worst slogans easily belong to government agencies and non-profits. “Try! To Conquer Cancer” is owned by the Princess Margaret Cancer Foundation. And Manitoba has exclusivity on Be UnDrunk, the province’s clarion call against binge drinking.
DING DANG DONG GOES THE SKYTRAIN
Public transportation systems across Canada have trademarked their names, logos and slogans. But Vancouver’s TransLink appears to be the only one that has trademarked the soundscape. The SkyTrain’s soothing door-closing chime is officially called “ding dang dong,” according to its trademark filing.
G’DAY, YOU HOSEHEAD
To own “eh” is to own the most iconic interjection in Canada, and the two-letter word has spawned attempts from lowly souvenir sellers to marketing titans. In the 1990s, the NBA tried to trademark “NBA … EH!” — and found themselves locked in a legal challenge from New Balance athletic shoes.
But easily the most famous claim laid to “eh” came in the 1980s, when lawyers representing the characters Bob and Doug McKenzie trademarked “hoser,” “g’day eh” and “take off eh.”
AN ICE-RESURFACING MACHINE
The California-based Frank J. Zamboni & Co. Inc. has owned several trademarks in Canada, including rights to the recognizable Zamboni design and even any sports bar that might put the word “Zamboni” in the title.
The company is fiercely defensive of its name becoming a synonym for ice-resurfacer, and for good reason. If too many generic usages slip through, the z-word could quickly go the way of BandAid, heroin or trampoline; former brand names that became public domain due to overuse. When Zamboni’s lawyers have nightmares, it’s of a dystopian future where any Johnny Arena who can strap a steam cleaner to a riding mower and legally call it a “Zamboni.”
GREEN INSOLE? NOT IN CANADA
According to the trademark filing for Superfeet Worldwide, it is the only company in Canada that is able to sell green-coloured insoles. And it’s just one of many Canadian trademarks laying claim to a specific colour of product.
Someone in Alberta has exclusivity for pink wire rope clips. A Delaware company once tried to trademark the right to white flexible pipes. And an Australian company is trying to secure the exclusive right to sell orangecoloured “tracks” — plastic devices used to provide traction to vehicles stuck in rough terrain.
THE LULULEMON ‘MANIFESTO’
Lululemon occupies a special place in Canadian trademark lore. For the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, the company deftly avoided Olympic licensing fees by marketing a line of clothing under the brand name “Cool Sporting Event That Takes Place in British Columbia Between 2009 & 2011 Edition.”
It also owns rights to the word “mindfulosophy” and it has trademarked what it calls the “manifesto” — a series of inspirational slogans (“children are the orgasm of life”) emblazoned on its shopping bags.
FLAG, COAT OF ARMS AND CURRENCY
From the stylized red maple leaf to the back of a $20 bill, the Canadian government retains the trademarks on almost everything that has emerged from its design studios. The Department of Canadian Heritage will even go to bat if anybody starts using Queen Elizabeth II’s various heraldry without permission.
But the government usually gives a wide berth to appropriation of our national symbols, asking that they be used only for “tasteful” business enterprises. This means that McDonald’s and Domino’s Pizza are all free to tack little maple leaves onto the logos of their Canadian divisions, but Ottawa might take issue if the Queen’s coat of arms starts showing up on boxes of vibrators.
TRADEMARK THE TRUMP DIET? HA.
In 2003, someone in Vancouver applied for a trademark to the words “Trump Diet.” A diet is indeed one of the few things to which Donald Trump has failed to append his name — and for good reason, considering his notable distaste of healthy eating. Of course, any attempted marketing of the Trump Diet would have immediately triggered an awesome wave of Trump Organization litigation. Which is probably why, a mere 16 months after it was filed, the Vancouver claim to the Trump Diet was officially abandoned.
RED SERGE AND BUFF STETSON
The RCMP is famously protective of its distinctive redserged, Stetson-hatted image. In the 1990s, the Mounties even briefly dispatched the Walt Disney Company to track down anybody selling a Sgt. Preston keychain without permission. But trademarking one’s brand is standard procedure for Canadian law-enforcement agencies. The only difference is cultural cachet. Unlike the RCMP, the Durham Regional Police generally doesn’t have to worry that porn stars or professional wrestlers might start using its image without permission.
EATON’S COULD RISE AGAIN
Once the No. 1 retail brand in the country, Eaton’s went down in flames just as Canada was entering the 21st century.
But the company’s various brand trappings remain in suspended animation, just in case. The Canadian commercial real estate giant Cadillac Fairview is the current owner of the Eaton’s name and logo.