#255 In which our hero discusses what was said to him by a coworker recently causing flames to shoot out of his eyes (our hero, not the coworker)

nIf you follow my Twitter account, you already know that a coworker called me an “asshole” last week. And I mean really called me an asshole, in anger, with malice. I have to make that distinction because when creative people in the advertising industry get together the conversation often quickly drops to the level of 8-year-olds on the playground.

I’m not going to get into the particulars of the project because a.) it wouldn’t be wise for me to discuss actual client work on my dumb blog and b.) it’s irrelevant to the story. What this really is about (other than the account executive (or AE) in question being an arrogant knob who’s pretty piss-poor at his job) is the constant and universal struggle between AEs and the creative staff.

I’ve worked at several agencies, and it’s always like this. The reality is that the system we all labor under is really set up to fail. It works like this: the client gives some sort of direction about what s/he wants in the latest print ad/radio spot/brochure/whatever. The AE in turn takes that information and relays it to the creative staff, usually in the form of a written document (generally called a “brief.”) The problem should already be obvious: the creative staff, ie., the people who will actually write and design the end result, are getting the information from the client second-hand. To make matters worse, we’re getting the information in a written document, usually well after the actual meeting between AE and client. So we don’t have the opportunity to ask question as the information is being relayed to us, then, if we do go back to the AE and ask questions, the information is no longer fresh in his/her mind.

So every project generally starts at a deficient.

But that’s just a little background, and not really important to what the AE called me (which, you’ll remember, is “asshole.”)

So we have a industrial parts manufacturer with a new product. They are very excited about this new product, so they’re pulling out all the stops to tell the world about it: brochures, trade show panels, email alerts, new mini-website and more. So we, the creative staff, get all this crap thrown at us and we start digging through it, producing the most important bits first. The website, which this tale hinges on, is pushed to the bottom of the pile, because it’s not a critical element and is quick and easy to turn around.

So early last week the AE suddenly sends out an email saying, “Hey, what’s up with the website? I want to show the client something on Friday.” He hadn’t indicated that there was any urgency with this part of the project up until this part. And honestly, it wasn’t a big deal, because the art director and I had been working on it, off and on, all along, and we had finished stuff to show.

Then it got interesting.

The AE looks at our work, then sends out an email the next day. It’s a three page mini-site and he has commentary about each page. And this next part is the problem.

Account executives aren’t writers. They aren’t designers. The best of them have insights into what the client likes and dislikes, what hot buttons set them off or make them fall in love with projects, and can share this insight with you to make the project better. But this guy isn’t the best of the best. And in his commentary, he wasn’t providing any insight anyway, he was art directing the project. And more to the point, it wasn’t really about his comments, it was about the way he delivered them. He was arrogant and condescending, and gave himself a lot more credit then he was due. “This layout is too busy,” he wrote in his email, “and where are the bullets that were outlined on the brief?”

So, hackles up, I write an email in response, saying that the creative team doesn’t think the layout is too busy, and that all the information from the brief is in there, if he would look for it (I said this in a more polite way). The emails keep going back and forth, and get a little heated. His attitude is clearly: I TOLD you want to do, why aren’t you art monkeys following orders?

My attitude is “fuck that guy.” Because he’s trying to act as a creative director, and he has neither the experience or aptitude to do it. My email responses are getting shorter, but haven’t crossed the line to insulting yet.

Finally, the associate creative director and I end up in the art director’s office. The AE storms in all in a huff. The ACD says “Okay, what’s the problem with this layout?”

The AE says, as closely as I can remember it: “ALL I need to know is how this animation is going to work. THAT’S ALL. You just have to give me the information. There’s no need”--and here he looks directly at me--“to be an ASSHOLE in emails!”

Yeah, I know, a little anticlimactic. He didn’t say, “Hey, you’re an asshole!” but it was clear from his body language that he was saying exactly that.

Anyway, I am FURIOUS. And, I’ve been known to fly off the handle once or twice, especially when needlessly confronted by incompetents, so I immediately get up and square off with the guy and say, “Look! I’m not the one being an asshole here!”

The ACD intercedes and brings things back down to a reasonable level--which is nothing short of miraculous being that this ACD is an angry little man--and we hash things out reasonably. I think some of it was miscommunication, but more of it was this AE needed a dumb amount of hand-holding because he can’t properly do the job on his own. All the information he needed really was right there, if he took a moment to think about the project and look at the supporting materials.

So now the guy is all fakey nice-nice with me, as usual. Maybe he’s already moved past it. But I have been known to keep grudges FOREVER and can’t imagine I’m going to forget this any time soon.

But that’s just me being an asshole.

WORK SHIRK

When I eventually go into Lily or Macey's classroom for Career Day and some snotty-nosed kid asks me what it takes to be a good copywriter; I'm going to tell him this:

"Think of something you don't care about. I mean really, really don't care about. Something that never even entered into your consciousness before. Maybe it's the Snail Darter controversy; maybe it's hair replacement surgery. After you've got it, sit down and write a 16-page brochure about how amazingly awesome that thing is. If you can do that--you have the chops to be a legendary copywriter."

I, myself, will probably never be a legendary copywriter.

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WORK JERK

I've been thinking about my job a lot lately; my career, actually. Nothing I'm dumb enough to post publicly, but it's been on my mind. Ugh. Big thoughts. Make my brain hurt.

Here's a video that you may or may not find amusing. I find it hilarious, because it's true. A hack. An egomaniac. That's me.

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#237 In which our hero thinks big thoughts.

I’ve been thinking about my career quick a bit lately. Not surprising, being that next month is my two year anniversary at this agency. Assuming I manage to avoid being fired for the next 30 days, this will be the longest I’ve worked at any agency since moving to Cleveland.

I try not to be negative about it, but in my career, I have cause. In the six years I’ve been in Cleveland, I’ve worked at five agencies. That’s probably higher than the norm, but not terribly unusual in my field. Economy goes down, advertisers cut budgets, agencies go down, agencies cut people… it’s a vicious circle and I’ve been on the bent-over end of it several times.

Here’s the first time.

Here’s the second time (The Scientist was eight months pregnant for this one).

Here’s the third time (Macey was two months old for this one).

And being that the economy appears to be heading to another recession, this looms large in my mind. Except, I don’t really expect to get fired any time soon. I’ve probably just jinxed myself by typing that, but I feel like I’m in a really good place at this agency. In my two years here I’ve proven myself, stepped up to any challenge thrown my way. I’ve been rewarded with high profile assignments, and made the main writer on several big name clients. I even started a recycling program that has been so successful that the entire building participates in it, not just our agency.

But.

I can’t stop thinking about some insight I got from a co-worker years ago. The only way to get a substantial raise, he told me, is to go to another agency.

And in my decade of experience, I’ve found that to be absolutely true. If you get a regular raise (which in my experience has NOT happened more than it has happened) it’s always cost of living, never any more. Regardless of stellar job performance evaluations, it’s always the absolute minimal that an employer can get away with.

And I get this. It’s management’s job to keep costs low, and salary is the #1 cost to an ad agency. I don’t begrudge them, really. But I do want to be rewarded for doing good work. And most of my career, the reward for good work was not being fired. It’s really hard to shake that lingering fear that I could once again be called into Human Resources and told to close the door.

But, being respected (to my face, at least) and liked at this agency has given me the confidence to ask around, poke at some people and see what are my chances of actually making some more money.

And answer is slim to none.

I gently asked my boss today where she saw me going in the future; what promotions might exist. She said that while she didn’t know if a promotion to associate creative director (the next rung on the ladder in my department) would happen this year or over the next couple years (translated, that means it will NOT happen) she definitely saw me in the position of being the “lead” on more major clients and maybe even a “creative manager.” There are two roles which entail more responsibility and more work… but no more money.

This bums me out.

So the big question is: should I start looking around again? I have my resume up on Monster.com and all the appropriate job sites, of course, but I haven’t actively sent out resumes in two years. Not since I got this job.

The big problem is that I love this job, and this agency. The client list is good, my co-workers are nice and talented, management is hands-off for the most part. It’s a fun place to work.

But if I want a big bump in pay, I think I’m going to have to jump ship. But I kinda don’t want to. Even if I ended up at a place as enjoyable as this, there’s no guarantee that I wouldn’t be laid off the next month when the economy shits the bed. So I’m wrestling with the concept of how much money is enough money to roll the dice again.

The entire concept frightens me, and I’ve generally shied away from things that frighten me. But, I also think that the only way to gain great rewards is to take great chances.

I dunno.

###

SURVEY NO WAY

Helpful hint of the day: if a telemarketer calls you with a survey, and you want to get off the phone but don’t want to be rude, tell them you work in advertising. Call I got last night:

TELEMARKETER: Hello sir, I’m {didn’t catch it} with {didn't care} and I’d like to ask you a few brief questions.
ME: Okay.
TM: Is there anyone in the household between the ages of 30 and 34?*
ME: Actually, no.
TM: Is there a male between the ages of 34 and 42?
ME: Yes, I am.
TM: Great! First, do you or anyone in your household work in any of the following professions? Advertising or--
ME: Yes.
TM: Advertising?
ME: Yes.
TM: Um, what is it you do?
ME: I’m a writer.
TM: Oh, do you have anything to do with radio advertising?
ME: Sure. In fact, I wrote some radio scripts just today.
TM: Oh. Um, I think that might disqualify you from the survey.
ME: It usually does.
TM: Let me just check… {moment later} Yeah, I’m afraid that disqualifies you from the survey.
ME: No problem.

Now, unlike most people, I want to take these surveys, because I’m often using the info on the other side. I’m always curious about how the questions are phrased, if they are leading or misleading, and what order they are presented in. Phone surveys are notoriously unreliable, because there’s nothing stopping the recipient from lying outrageously.

And, depending on how clever you are with the questions, you can really get just about any result you want. Typically, on the surveys where they allow me to participate, I have a really good idea by the end of who’s sponsoring the research and/or what product(s) they are gathering information for. It’s fun. Well, for me, maybe.

I guess I could lie myself, and tell them I’m a bricklayer or whatever. But then I’d just be giving some poor copywriter down the road bad info.


* WTF? This is the first time that I’ve been aged out of a survey. For a long time I’ve been in that golden zone, the male aged 18-35 that all marketers want to target. I’m going to be royally pissed if I get bumped up to the next age range, and find myself lumped with 40-65-year-olds.

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#229 In which our hero considers his choice of footwear and what affect it may have upon his career, part II.

Couple of agencies ago, my Creative Director was a real jackass. To be fair, he was a good Art Director, but a suck-ass CD. Just a terrible manager. When I first spoke with him, he told that he hadn’t yet fired the guy I would be replacing. He wanted to make sure he had a new writer lined up (me) before he let the guy go. Which seemed a little underhanded to me, but it’s the way of the world, I guess. We met at a coffee shop for our first interview. Later, he brought me into the agency after hours, when everyone else was gone. He made me an offer, I accepted. Since I had been unemployed in advertising for more than a year, I was anxious for my first day to come.

Now, since I never saw anyone else at the agency, nor did my new boss mention anything about a dress code, I assumed I could wear my usual attire: jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. But when I arrived for my first day, he nearly crapped his pants when he saw me. “I’d hate for you to make a bad impression on your first day,” he explained. “Could you maybe go home and wear something more business casual?” Being my first day, what am I going to say?

So I go home and change. Which is completely ridiculous, of course. This guy should have grown some balls and just said, oops, my bad. I should have told you about the dress code. Well, you’ll know what to wear tomorrow, huh? Instead I’m gone for an hour and a half, since this place wasn’t exactly close to my house.

Here’s the point to this story: when I got back, he pulled me aside and said this: “I’ll give you some advice. If you want to go anywhere in this agency, you should try to dress more like an account executive, and less like a creative.”

Again, being my first day, I nodded along. But inside I was thinking this: fuck THAT.

Now, I know I’m spoiled in this regard, but I’ve been lucky enough to work in an industry full of misfits and eccentrics. Generally speaking, no-one would bat an eye if you were to wear shorts and flip-flops year-round. Most agencies put a premium on creativity, and embrace the concept that you need to feel comfortable to be at your best, creatively speaking. Dress codes are generally only enforced when you’re meeting a client (and even then I tend to wear jeans, albeit nice jeans).

However, I have worked in agencies (two of them, to be exact) that have a dress code. Other than the above-mentioned business casual, I worked at an in-house shop where I had to wear a tie every day. That sucked.

I don’t know if being allowed to wear jeans and sneakers really makes me more creative, but I certainly resent it when told I can’t. I’ve been fiercely anti-dress code all my life. In fact, when I first moved up here to work at a (dress code-free) agency, I put all my ties in a box labeled “NEVER TO BE WORN AGAIN.” Which proved not to be true, but anyway.

So, maybe you can understand why I feel like a sell-out being that I haven’t worn my sneakers to work in a week.

Like I wrote yesterday, I’ve been giving my career a hard think. I’d like to stay at this agency (and make more money), progress my career (and make more money) and maybe even create a little job security for myself (and make more money). And while opportunities may be few and far in-between, they still exist. So when management is talking in their star chamber about how they want to create a new position in the creative department, I want my name to be the first that comes to mind.

So, I’ve been trying to act the part. I mean, this is part of my job, and it comes naturally to me to be vocal in brainstorm meeting, and present to the client well and to write good copy (the part that doesn’t necessarily come naturally is to be patient and kind with dull-witted account executives. But I’ve been working on that. Honestly, the AEs from my first agency up here wouldn’t know me now).

That said, I don’t think it’s a bad thing to try to look the part, too.

Not that I’m going to stop wearing jeans. I’m comfortable in jeans, so I don’t see them going away anytime soon. But I have been wearing dress shoes. But, “dress shoes” is maybe not the right term… these are Doc Martens, so they’re still cool. Right? I’m cool, right?


Yeah? No? Hello?

Anyway, what all this boils down to is that I’m trying to be more professional in all aspects of my job.

Professional.

In the not-so-far past, I might have equated being “professional” with being a jackass. Mostly because the word “professional” is often used by non-creatives as a codeword for wearing a tie, not rocking the boat and kissing the client’s ass. All of which I’ve done before, and will certainly do again--but I don’t make a habit out of it.

But I’ve started to become more thoughtful about my job… and, I dunno, maybe I’m not selling out as much as facing reality. Advertising is all about appearances, and the people who work in the field certainly aren’t exempt from that. Not only that, but dressing more professionally (ugh, I hate even typing that) puts my head in a different place. I’m not just going to an office and screwing around for eight hours, I’m working on my career. And if I do that every day, every month, every year, someone is bound to notice. And that, one hopes, will pay off in the end.

Because when management starts casting around for the next manager or whatever, I don’t want there to be any discussion about how I don’t fit the part, or how they’re unsure if I could successfully tackle a new role; I want them to say, “Craig’s the perfect candidate for this position. Hell, he’s already doing it in everything but title.”

And then they back up the dumptruck full of cash.

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#228 In which our hero considers his choice of footwear and what affect it may have upon his career, part I.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my career lately. And my shoes. In truth, I’ve probably spent more time thinking about shoes than work, but that is still career-related. Maybe. Or maybe not.

Let me back up.

For several years now I’ve been telling people that I have “nearly 10 years experience” as a copywriter. This is, for the most part, a big fat lie. Once I hit the five year mark, give or take, I felt like I could make the 10-year claim. This is stretching the truth to nearly breaking, but if you consider the time I spent thinking about advertising in school, and my feeble attempts to free-lance early on and, um, watching TV commercials during the Super Bowl, it was close. Well, it wasn’t really, but no-one ever called me on it, and besides, this is advertising we’re talking about. Whenever someone starts asking if an ad is “true” or “factual,” my response is that I'm a marketer, not a journalist. Meaning that my requirement to hew strictly to the truth is someone more… relaxed… than in other communication fields.

But I can honestly make the 10-year claim now. More to the point, I can say that I’ve been a copywriting at honest-to-God advertising agencies for eight years (or, “nearly 10!”). This is an important distinction in my industry. Agency writers are generally legit, at least compared to freelancers or people running their own “agency” out of their bedroom who maybe aren’t really writing every day for a variety of clients, like I am.

And I’m currently at an agency that I really like, and I really feel like I fit in. I could see a future here (now that I’ve written that down, I’m sure I’ll be fired tomorrow). But what kind of future? Career progression at an advertising agency isn’t always cut and dry. I’m a Senior Copywriter, which has everything to do with my past experience, and nothing to do with my time at my current agency. The next step up the ladder is “Associate Creative Director,” of which we have two, currently. This title falls somewhere between copywriter/art director (which are parity positions, except that one writes and the other designs--don’t be confused by the “director” in there) and Creative Director, who’s top of the heap in creative. Usually. We have two creative directors, both of whom have been here forever. If one of them where to suddenly quit, they’d be replaced by one of the many people here with more experience at the agency than me, if the agency didn’t bring in someone entirely new from outside the agency. So my chances of ever seeing Creative Director at this agency are pretty slim.

But Associate Creative Director? Maybe. It seems like this title is given to people who are the lead writing/art person on one of the big accounts and/or someone who’s been here a long, long time. I don’t know if that would ever happen to me, either. At the very least, it would be politically unwise, since there are lots of people with years and years more experience at this agency than myself.

Sometimes it feels like I don’t have much in the way of upward mobility. Except, maybe I do. Every now and again the agency just invents a new position. With the last major restructuring of the creative department the title of “Concept Development Director” was unveiled. This is a wholly new title, and one I’ve never seen at any other place I’ve worked at. So, if the agency really wanted to do something for me, they could create a new position. For me. But they probably won’t.

Of course, this is all really about money.

The one thing I’ve learned is that you don’t get big bumps in pay by staying in the same position. You have to jump to a new position or, much more commonly, jump to a new agency. That’s really the only way to command a BIG pay increase.

And this is what has prompted my recent introspection. I like working here--a lot, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to say that--but the only practical way to start making more money is to leave.

But what’s this have to do with shoes? More than you might think. More tomorrow.

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#220 In which our hero is part of a well-received presentation, the accolades of which swell his head considerably.

I had a rather unique experience last week.

At the advertising agency for which I work, we have monthly agency meetings. These are generally an opportunity for the President to stand up and say inspirational things to us, detail what new business we’re pitching, introduce new employees, celebrate anniversaries and the like. We often have a case study, too; something cool or interesting that the agency did for a client recently that bares sharing.

I was tapped to present a case study at last week’s meeting.

This isn’t a big deal for me, I’ve spoken in front of crowds before. And even though I still get a little nervous beforehand, I’m a pretty decent public speaker. Besides, it wouldn’t just be me, it would be the entire team who worked on the project. My part would only cover the actual creative stuff, and I’d present that along with the art director I worked with.

Now, in the past, I’ve been very careful about talking about clients and client work on this blog, because I don’t want it to come back and bite me in the ass. But it’s going to be hard for this story to make any sense unless I reveal some details. So… promise not to tell anyone else, okay?

The client in question is a major manufacturer of rubber products. Headquartered in Akron, OH. (Figure it out yet? Famous for its tires? Rhymes with “hood deer”?) Anyway, we don’t actually work for their major division (ie., tires), we do work for one of their affiliated smaller companies. This one in particular produces consumer and industrial belts and hoses (as in hoses for your car or for steam cleaning machines, stuff like that. Not just garden hoses, even though they do make those, too). The project was to stage a big event at a major industry trade show for hose.

What’s that? A trade show just for hoses? You bet your ass. I had no idea before working on this account just how big a business industrial hose really is. And there’s plenty of distributors out there trafficking in hoses and accessories--so much so, that there’s a trade organization that only deals in hoses and they have this big conference every year and on and on…

So this trade show is a big deal. And while there’s the typical big convention center room with booths displaying new products, the real draw is the after-hours parties. This is where our client (and the other manufacturers) rent out a room in the convention center and throw a big ‘ole party. Of course it’s a big smooze-fest so the client can wine and dine their customers without having to take them out one at a time.

The client puts a lot of stock into this event, so we need to blow it out, make it impressive. So every year there’s a theme, and the entire party/event revolves around the theme.

The theme we choose for this year’s event was “magic.” We paid this off by transforming the suite into an old-tyme magic hall circa 1900. Think Harry Houdini or the movie “The Prestige.”

We got to work creating a bunch of elements to create this mysterious feel. We sent out a pre-event “save the date” mailer which included instructions on how to do a simple card trick; we sent out another mailer right before the show reminding the client’s customers of the big party; we created in-room gifts for the attendees which included a magic wand, a customized Magic 8-Ball, “tickets” to a performance by the magician (“One night and one night only!”), a “magic” pen, and a few other odds and ends, all collected inside a black top hat. Pretty cool.

But once you got into the room itself is when you got to see the really cool stuff. One of our major tasks is to set up exciting and engaging displays of the actual products. This is no small feat, considering that the products are hoses. I’m sure they work really well… but they’re not that interesting to look at. So, what we did was create displays that were meant to look like magician’s props or tricks. We had a water-filled display that looked his Houdini’s famous Chinese Water Torture Cell with a hose (a hydraulic hose, get it?) suspended in it; another display featured a hose that was spiraling out of a wicker basket so that it looks like a snake charmer’s trick; another high-temp hose was suspected above “fire,” and so on. Beside each display was a big poster in the style of the posters of the time, full of hyperbole and carnival barker-esque patter. These were a whole lot of fun to write.

Anyway, at the agency meeting we went through the process we used to come up with the concept, mentioned all the elements, and showed a bunch of photos of all the stuff. The presentation was well received… people laughed at all the right places.

But here’s the crazy part.

When we were showing the displays and their accompanying posters, I read the copy to one of the posters out loud (since it was in a PowerPoint slide you couldn’t really read past the headline from the audience). Now, the copy on the posters were a fun combination of attributes the client wanted to get across and the crazy claims I came up with. MARVEL as this hose withstands temperatures up to 350 degrees F and QUAKE IN FEAR at its working pressure of up to 450 psi… and so on.

So I read this poster in my best sideshow barker voice and when I’m done, the audience actually applauds. I actually have to stop talking because people are applauding so loudly that they can’t hear me.

Needless to say, this has never happened to me before. I mean, I’ve had people tell me, hey, that’s a cool ad or great job on that radio or whatever; but I’ve never had 200 people applaud my copy before. Crazy.

Anyway, the kudos just kept rolling in after the presentation. People said that it was the best presentation at an agency meeting EVER. It all totally went to my head.

But, that was last week, and the realities and deadlines of this week are already bringing me back to earth. There’s not a lot of room between “Hey, you’re the guy who gave that great presentation” to “Hey! You’re the dick that missed my deadline!”

But, for one brief shining moment, I was the star of the show.

Now, back to work.

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#219 In which our hero discusses Heroes, heroes and Hiro's.

ince I owe the world a post and I owe the lovely Miss Kate an email reply, why not kill two birds with one stone?

Miss Kate is a Heroes nerd just like me, and she emailed me yesterday with comments about the premier. Her thoughts are presented in orange, which my disjointed ramblings follow.

BTW, this reminds me a great deal of how a friend and I used to discuss the X-Files after every episode. One of us would call and the other would answer, saying simply “discuss.” Glad to see that six years later my complete nerdity hasn’t wore off one bit.

So, didja watch it last night?? I did. If you didn't, read no further.

See? This is why I like Miss Kate. So considerate.

I'm a little miffed about the very obvious Nissan Rogue product placement - but I guess that's the price you pay when they sponsor your "less commercials than usual" premier.

Being in the advertising industry, I’m torn. I mean, I wasn’t surprised at all that a Nissan was featured prominently because you’re right… Nissan was paying top dollar for that sponsorship, and they had every right to get something in return.

That said, it was a little heavy-handed when HRG gave Claire the keys to the car and she said, “The Rouge?!” It feels obnoxious to me mostly because the scene didn’t work. Mostly because nobody knows what the Rouge is. It’s a new model, and doesn’t have much in the way of buzz yet. If it had been a known quantity like, say, a Mustang or a Mini Cooper, then it would have made sense. Instead, we’re left to wonder why this girl is so excited about a new mid-level car that no-one has ever heard of and that’s not especially sexy to look at.

But, this is product placement at it’s greatest. And before anyone bashes Nissan too much, you should really spot and take a look at your favorite show next time. It’s no coincidence that every can of soda has it’s label perfectly oriented so you can see the brand name.

In the product placement biz, there’s three levels:

• Product appears in the background at some point in the show.
• A character interacts with the product; picking it up, moving it, etc.
• A character interacts with the product and mentions the brand by name.

Clearly, the premier hit big on all three. But honestly, I’m willing to deal with a little intrusive product placement for limited commercial interruption. We probably got 10 minutes more show because of Nissan’s sponsorship. And the Nissan was only really featured at that one point… be glad that the plot didn’t hinge on that car or something equally annoying.

Actually, what I found even more obnoxious was that when the show did go to commercial, Nissan only had ONE Rouge spot (with some subtle versioning) to show.

The new kid that's kind of stalking Claire from school is creeping me out. I don't like that he followed her home.

Agreed. And he has his own powers, huh? And it’s flight, too… just like Claire’s birth-father (Nathan). Hmm… maybe Nathan was fooling around with women other than just Claire’s birth-mother?

I like that her dad put his new manager in his place. I hope he broke his finger.

I guess. But how realistic is that, really? He wouldn’t just get fired? Come on… this feels like a lazy way for him to have a job as a cover story (but it’s still dealing with paper products, which I think is a nice touch).

I'm still wondering what Mama Petrelli and Hiro's Dad's powers are/were.

Me too. I’m still assuming that they do have powers… but they’ve only been shown as puppet masters/power brokers up until this point. Do they really have powers? And in the case of Hiro’s father we can assume his power isn’t/wasn’t flight.

I have no clue who killed Hiro's dad. Could have been Sylar (maybe). Could have been Nathan (maybe). Could be someone we've not met yet.

Sylar doesn’t really make sense, because his thing isn’t murder, per se, but rather the “collecting” of powers. Whatever he does (actually eat the brains or just fool around with them) seems to take a little time; so this doesn’t seem like his MO at all. Nathan? Could be, but I doubt it. I’m going with someone we haven’t seen yet.

I'm totally curious about who is stalking Molly in her nightmares.

Yeah, the new Big Bad! I’m guessing we won’t see him/her/it for a while. At least not until Sylar leaves the show to go film Star Trek XI.

I'm curious to know how Peter got cuffed inside a storage container, wearing that half-DNA symbol pendant, with apparent amnesia.

Amnesia! The ultimate panacea for what ails ya (or the plot) in the comic book world! I’m not bashing the writers, I think, again, it fits in well with the comic book feel of the series. And I am also, of course, curious as hell as to what happened.

And I have to say that I’m surprised that they didn’t try to string out the mystery of the Petrelli brothers (are they alive? Are they dead?) for a longer time. But it’s cool… I find it really interesting that even though everyone came together at the end of season one, that now everyone is spread out again. They know of each other, and a few of them are actually working together (notably Mohinder and HRG) but they didn’t come together like the new Justice League or something. I mean, Niki, D.L. and Micah didn’t even appear in the episode! That’s pretty impressive, I think.

I really want to know how that symbol plays into everything - starting as the symbol for that Kensei guy, being tattooed on Nikki's shoulder, being the pendant around Peter's neck, and also the "sign" that "you're going to die" by the hand of a member of your little mutant clique.

Yeah, I really hope the writers can pay that off. I hope it doesn’t become their version of “The Trust is Out There” with the X-Files; where we finally learned the truth at the end, and it was that aliens really are real and the government is working with them to… do what again? Something with bees? Shit, ya lost me.

Anyway, it’s really intriguing.

And, last I checked, wasn't Mohinder *already* working for The Company when he was curing Molly last season???? What's with this guy following him around Egypt to ask him to join them... again.

I’m not real clear on this bit either. Are we talking about the same Company? Maybe these are different guys? I dunno.

Finally, I have to say that I think the writer’s are taking a bit of a chance. There’s probably a lot of people who never watched season one, but heard good things about the show, who are willing to give it a go now. But that premier wasn’t that easy of an entryway to the show… if you don’t already know what happened in season one, you would probably become lost really quickly. I mean, it’s good for us… we don’t have to slog through a bunch of backstory we already know; but I just hope it’s not bad for the show (because they still need to keep ratings up).

But all in all, I fun start to the season.

PS: My big hunch for this season? Kensei, the legendary hero that Hiro worships? Hiro is going to do all those heroic deeds of legend, effectively becoming Kensei himself. Meaning that in the future he never stole Kensei’s sword… it was his own sword all along.

###

#203 In which our hero discusses a common element of advertising, which is none the less annoying for being commonplace.

A word about disclaimers.

But first, you know what I’m talking about, right? When you see an ad and it says something like “$5 off Colgate Whitestrips*” and the asterisk points to tiny print at the bottom that reads, “*Limit one per customer;” that’s a disclaimer.

As someone who works in advertising, I know non-advertising people think disclaimers are stupid, disingenuous, misleading, deceitful and, at times, outright lies. But here’s a secret about people who work in advertising: we think so, too.

No copywriter or art director ever said “Hey! Let’s throw in a disclaimer in 6-point at the bottom! That will really take this ad to the next level!” We do it because the client asks us to do it… and the client only does it because their lawyers insist that they do it.

And sadly, often the lawyers are right. It’s a little pathetic that we live in a culture where this is necessary, where people try to game the system and sue companies not to recover damages, but just to screw them out of a couple bucks. Next time you see a contest or sweepstakes (is there a difference, you ask? Legally, yes there is) at your grocery or wherever, take a look at the official rules. There’s probably a lot of them. That’s the company’s legal department working hard to cover their collective butts from any conceivable legal threat.

I’ve been thinking about disclaimers a fair amount lately, because I have a client who is, let us say, disclaimer-obsessed. Once again, to comply to “I Don’t Want to Get Fired” guidelines, I won’t give out this company’s real name or industry; but for the purposes of this post let’s say they are a smallish (but still national in scope) retailer of eyeglasses.

As part of their complete service, this company provides free eye exams. This is one of the things they like to promote, as in “FREE Eye Exams!” They never charge for their eye exams… I know this because any time I’ve written “FREE Eye Exam” I’ve had to add an “*” and the words “Our eye exam is always free.”

This disclaimer (one of many they liked to plaster their direct mail pieces with) always confused me… see, it wasn’t “free eye exam with $50 purchase” or “Free eye exam on Mondays only” … it’s a free eye exam. Period. Doesn’t seem to be a reason for a disclaimer. I mean, disclaimers are there to protect the company, but since they’re actually doing what they say they’re doing, I don’t see why any protection was needed.

But by God they wanted--nay, demanded!-- that that disclaimer appear any time the free eye exam was mentioned, which was at least once in every piece.

Now, this client was a bit problematic, which honestly has more to do with the AE on the account than any unreasonable demands, but regardless I’ve learned not to push too hard about questioning these unnecessary disclaimers.

But.

This last round of direct mail was pushing it, even for this client. See, every month the direct mail has an offer, like “Come and get $50 off designer frames” or “Free gift card with purchase.” For the recent DM, the client wanted the offer to be “FREE Eye Exams this month only!” Which is fine, except we’ve been doing a year of DM that reads “Our eye exam is always free.”

Naturally I questioned this, and the AE helpfully told me, “Well, that’s what they want,” and left it at that. I pushed back*, trying to point out how ridiculous it was.

* Hey look! A disclaimer! Actually a note, really. At my agency the AEs always say “I’ll push back on that,” meaning they’ll go back to the client and try to get them to change their mind. Note that the AE never says, “I’ll tell the client ‘no’” or “I’ll make sure the client knows we won’t do that,” because, you see, our AEs NEVER say no to the client. I suspect that most times when they “push back” it goes something like this:

CLIENT: I want you to change that box to plaid.
AE: Um, plaid? You sure?
CLIENT: Yes.
AE: Okay! Plaid it is!

After this particular AE pushed back, the client came back and said, “look, it’s like this: the eye exam is free, but y’see, this month we’re also going to throw in a free frame fitting, which isn’t free. So that’s the ‘only this month’ part. Get it?”

Which again, would be fine, except that below the disclaimer that says “our eye exams are always free” is another disclaimer that reads, “our frame fittings are always free.”

Finally, the client saw the light and realized that they couldn’t bullshit their way through after they had so thoroughly established this free exam disclaimer. They changed it to just “FREE Eye Exam!” and took out the only this month businesses. Which finally makes it a truthful, albeit weak, offer.

And as dumb as that all was, it in no way prepared me for the following month’s offer.

For the next direct mail piece, the client wanted the offer to be “FREE 30-day trial” (if it doesn’t make sense that a company would make you a pair of glasses to wear for a month for free, remember that this client isn’t really in the eyeglass business, okay?) The client had heard of some businesses like theirs having a great deal of success with a free trial offer, and they wanted to give it a whirl.

So far, so good.

But after I had written the thing (“FREE 30-day trial! No risk! No obligation to buy!”) they came back with the disclaimers. Which read thusly:

* Payment required for 30-day free trial. Restocking fee for returns is $80.

To which I said, “This is a fucking joke, right?”

But sadly, no. It would appear that the trial period was free, but if you didn’t like your frames and brought them back, you had to pay 80 bucks. The only way to really get a free trial was to buy the frames.

Which makes it sound like it’s not really free at all, doesn’t it?

Keep in mind that it wasn’t us--the agency--suggesting this overtly deceptive approach, it was the client. People in advertising have to eat a lot of shit over “tricking” people into buying things, so naturally it really pissed me off that our client was trying to pull a fast one like this.

I voiced my outrage and got a “well, that’s what they want to do” from the AE--which is just bullshit. But, a couple days later I got word that the client was going to change the disclaimer. “Well thank God,” I thought. “They came to their senses.”

The client changed the “Payment required for 30-day free trial. Restocking fee for returns is $80” disclaimer to one that reads, “See store for details.”

Now the client isn’t just lying to their potential customers, they’re making those customers come to the store first so they can lie to their faces.

See? It’s not always the ad agencies. We hate disclaimers as much as you do.

###

#202 In which our hero rants a bit about the ridiculous state of our fine country.

Couple times now I’ve sat down and started to write down my thoughts about this Don Imus thing. But I just can’t organize my thoughts in a sufficient manner to properly express my outrange about the vast over-reactionism and hypocrisy that has assailed the airwaves these past 10 days. I think I can best sum it up thusly:

America has gone mad.

First, let me get this out: I’m a white guy (and, judging from these photos, I’m just about as white as you can be) and I get it that I’ll never get it. The color of my skin prevents me from ever fully understanding what it’s like to be denigrated because of the color of my skin.

That said, I’m furious about the hoopla surrounding the firing of Don Imus. Understand, I don’t really give a crap about this man; I didn’t listen to his show, and the few snippets I heard of it here and there never gave me any incentive to tune in. He sounded like a doddering old kook with a mouth full of marbles.

But here’s what has me so angry: the constant stream of talking heads on the news who proclaim with extreme confidence that Imus was fired because of his “hate speech;” because he finally went way too far with his insults directed at people of all colors and creeds; that a new morality is sweeping the nation and it’s no longer acceptable to say such things on the public airways.

Which is all bullshit.

You want to know why Don Imus was fired? Here are three reasons:

1. Procter & Gamble
2. Staples
3. Bigelow Tea

These were the first companies to announce that they were pulling their advertising from his show. Here’s six more reasons:

1. General Motors
2. American Express
3. Miralus Healthcare
4. Sprint
5. GlaxoSmithKline
6. PetMed Express

These are companies that quickly followed suit and pulled their advertising from his show. And there you have it, the real reason Imus lost his job: because his show became unprofitable.

And that’s okay… or at least it’s the reality of the situation. I mean, radio is a business, and radio stations want to stay in business. So when a segment of their broadcasting day starts to lose money, they react. This sort of things happens every day; it just so happens that in Imus’ case it happened with great fanfare and in an amazingly accelerated timeframe.

Now, if the radio people would just be honest about this, I wouldn’t care. But they aren’t.

"There has been much discussion of the effect language like this has on our young people, particularly young women of color trying to make their way in this society. That consideration has weighed most heavily on our minds as we made our decision."

CBS President Leslie Moonves

Liar.

This isn’t about “young women of color,” this is about money. This is about cutting off the diseased limb that Imus became as quickly and efficiently as possible before it poisoned the rest of the body and sponsors starting pulling their money from other CBS radio programs.

And don’t think sponsors are without blame. They happily shilled their products on Imus’ program up until the second that there was a public backlash.

“Because of the recent comments that were made on the program it did prompt us to take a look at our decision to advertise on the program and we have decided to stop advertising. … Once we became aware of the comment, we sort of stepped back and took a look at it."

Staples spokesman Paul Capelli

Liar.

There was nothing about Imus’ “recent comments” that was significantly different from what he says on a daily basis. Staples (and any other of the bailing advertisers) didn’t give a crap what the man said until the threat loomed large that Imus’ commentary might reflect badly on them. Then they ran like scarred rabbits.

“[This is] a victory for public decency. No one should use the public airwaves to transmit racial or sexual degradation.''

Rev. Jesse Jackson

Liar!

This is not a “victory for public decency” this is a witch hunt that was quickly and efficiently concluded when one man lost his job. The sum effect on public decently is ZERO because there are a hundred small-time radio personalities that are set to jump in and pick up where Imus left off. If anyone seriously thinks this firing will make a difference in the moral climate of this country, then they really haven’t been paying attention.

And using the airways to “transmit racial or sexual degradation” ? To forestall my head from exploding I’ll just leave you with some lyrics from rap legend The Notorious B.I.G.:

Moonlight strolls with the hoes, oh no, that's not my steelo
I wanna bitch that like to play celo, and craps
Packin’ gats, in a Coach bag steamin’ dime bags
A real bitch is all I want, all I ever had (yeah, c'mon)
With a glock just as strong as me
Totin’ guns just as long as me, the bitch belongs with me

Thank God Don Imus has been stopped. Moral American can sleep easy tonight.

###

MONSTER SPONSOR

I came across a link for Monster by Mail a week ago. For $20, this guy will draw you a monster based on a word you send him. And he posts a high-speed video of him drawing the monster. How cool is that? The catch is that you can only send in one word. Some of the words people sent in were pretty predictably, like "bigfoot" or "Cthulu." But some other words were unexpected, and ended us as pretty cool monsters--I especially like "purple," "insane" and "pensive." I figured I could spare twenty bucks, so what the heck. At first I was going to send in "pustulant,” figuring it would make a cool-looking monster. But I decided on something a little closer to my heart. I sent in “advertising.”

And I got an email this morning that my monster was done! I present to you, “Advertising.”

And it’s got tentacles! Pretty cool. I find it really interesting how this guy interprets the words people send him. When I was thinking of “advertising,” naturally I was thinking of it from the creation side, since I’m in the business. But he took a different angle, from the consumer side--which only makes sense. Still very cool. If I could do it again (which I can’t, since he stopped taking submissions after 150) I’d send “copywriter.”

Click here for a YouTube video of it being drawn.

My monster should appear in my mailbox in a week or so. This guy just made $3,000 in a week by putting up a website and drawing cartoon monsters. Once again, I long for the ability to draw.

###

#200 In which our hero discusses an odd project

We have a presentation coming up next month. It’s a little strange… we are proposing a co-promotion between a major national retailer and a major food manufacturer. Since this is still in the planning phase (even though we should be well past that point, more on that in a moment) it’s not kosher for me to divulge the actual companies. Well, since this is an un-authorized blog, it’s probably never going to be okay for me to discuss work things. But to understand the rest, you need at least an idea of how these companies work together (or don’t).

So, for the sake of this post, let’s say one of the companies is SuperCuts, a national chain of cheap hair cut joints. And let’s say the other one is Breyers, the ice cream company. Again, these are NOT the actual companies we’re pitching, but just placeholders for the following tale of woe.

My agency already does a little business with SuperCuts (not really, but just follow along), but we’re not the agency of record (I’ve discussed the boring details of advertising before). So we have a relationship of sorts with them. We’ve never done work with Breyers, but we’d like to. So that sets the stage.

At some point, some account executive got the bright idea that we should do a co-promotion between the two. Because what goes together more naturally than hair cuts and ice cream, right?

If you’re like me, you first thought was, “Huh? Cheap hair cuts and ice cream?” Far as I can figure, it went down something like this: we work with SuperCuts, but we’d love a bigger piece of their business. We don’t work with Breyers, but would love to add their business to our portfolio. So why not propose a co-promotion between the two, effectively killing two birds with one stone?

Apparently the plan was to go to SuperCuts and say, “Hey! You know who would make a great promotional partner? Breyers! You should totally talk to them!” Then, while everyone in the room was nodding, we’d go to Breyers and say, “Hey! You know who would make a great promotional partner? SuperCuts! You should totally talk to them!” And then we’d facilitate a meeting between the two, they’d develop a mutually beneficial program, and we’d be heroes.

But, what really happened is that when this idea was floated to SuperCuts, they responded by saying, “Breyers, huh? That does should interesting. Do you have a program in mind?” And then, our account executive, not having planned any further than just getting everyone together in the same room, bullshitted his way through the rest of the meeting. “Um, a program? Um… sure! Yeah, we do. Boy, do we ever! We have a program like you wouldn’t believe! Why doesn’t we get back together in, say, three weeks and we’ll show you our kick-ass plan?”

And then he scuttled back to the office as quick as he could and came to the creative department and said, “Holy shit! We need to develop a SuperCuts/Breyers plan right now!”

And that’s where I came in.

Granted, the situation is a little messed up, but that’s really what the creative department gets paid for: coming up with great creative solutions on the fly. Three weeks was really pushing it though; it takes time to think up the idea, consider all the production/media issues, design a look, and mock up some props that will express the feel of the final promotion.

And it doesn’t help that we’re talking about two businesses which don’t really seem to be a natural fit.

I mean, it’s not like we’re proposing a SlimFast/Jelly Belly cross-promotion, that wouldn’t make any sense. But haircuts and ice cream? If you think about it for a moment, maybe it does make a kind of sense. SuperCuts, being a price-driven business, works on a lot of kids. Kids who don’t always want to go get their hair cut. But what if they could get a gift certificate for free ice cream as a reward? That might make it a little easier on the parents. And if you’re a harried mom looking for a quick haircut for your kid (and you know it’s going to be a fight) which would you choose: the cheap place that gives you nothing but a haircut or the cheap place that gives you a haircut AND ice cream coupons? Right, no-brainer.

And if you go a little deeper with the concept… what if you actually installed little freezers right in SuperCuts so you could sell ice cream novelties right then and there? You’d probably drum up more haircut business, and you’d sell more ice cream, even to adults. So both SuperCuts and Breyers benefit.

Again, we’re not really talking about SuperCuts and Breyers, but it’s that same sort of “WTF? Are you kidding? Hmm… maybe this could work…” thing.

So we started work. And here’s the big thing to remember: we don’t have enough time to do this right. I mean, in advertising you rarely have all the time you need, but this was pretty extreme, especially considering the level of presentation the AEs wanted.

And it quickly grew frustrating. Given this “I don’t know how it works, it’s YOUR job to figure it out” attitude, I pulled a couple of concepts out of my ass. Things that looked decent on paper. But many of then, for a variety of reasons, weren’t executable. And no-one on the team hesitated to tell me why they wouldn’t work, but didn’t offer any sort of solution as to how to make them work, or suggest something else that would work better. So I wrote concept after concept, just to have them shit on again and again.

Finally, we had two concepts that were pretty strong, seemed to make sense and touch on the hot buttons for both companies. Things seemed to be running smoothly, until the lead AE on the account says, “I really think we need one more concept.”

Here’s the thing: this happens all the time in advertising. You might think that the best course of action would be to develop one kick-ass idea and really put all your best people behind it. But, clients are fickle. There’s always the chance that they might torpedo it for some unforeseen reason. Like, if you present a promotional idea that relies on a heavy radio schedule… then the client tells you they don’t like radio. They may have no logical reason for dismissing radio, but if that’s all you got, then you’re screwed.

So agencies generally like to go in with a couple concepts, three being a popular number. It’s a bullshit apologist approach, if you ask me, and seems to force an agency to present several decent ideas instead of one great one. But that’s what clients expect right now, like it or not.

Anyway, I’m working with a designer on looks, etc., when we have another meeting Thursday. Keep in mind that the actual presentation is the following Wednesday, giving us only three days to hammer everything out. At this meeting, the lead AE again voices his opinion that we need a third concept. So he starts spitting out ideas… “What if it’s a radio call-in promotion? Or something to do with ice cream in the grocery aisle? Or…”

And generally, it’s fine to be throwing ideas out like that, but Jesus Christ we only have three days to finish what we have, do we really need to invent another idea just so we reach a magical number? At this point, we should be waaay past proposing completely new ideas.

I wasn’t happy.

But I write up his idea, and even as I’m doing so I’m thinking this will never fucking work. And when I shoot it out to the team for comment, lo and behold media shoots it full of holes. Like I knew they would.

So I’m facing a long weekend of trying to finalize things, and I’ve already called The Scientist to tell her that there was no way that I could drive to Maryland to visit the in-laws this weekend as planned, when I was saved by the deus ex machina; the client called to cancel the meeting.

It’s been rescheduled for next month. Since then, far as I can tell, work has ground to a complete halt. Everyone is busy with other projects (myself included) and probably hasn’t given it a second thought since the meeting was rescheduled.

I mean, why should we take advantage of this extra time when we could sit on it and do nothing for weeks?

To be continued.

###

#196 In which our hero greatly over-analyzes a TV commercial, driven to do so by the obliviousness of his co-workers.

Ugh, I can’t work. That’s the bad thing about my job (and actually, about me in general) is if I become distracted it’s really hard for me to regain focus and do my job. This has happened in the past when The Scientist and I have a fight… I’m usually worthless until everything has been reconciled.

Right now I’m distracted by a creative brief that just came across my desk. In it, the account executive has written that the client has instructed us to take all the work we’ve done in the past 10 months, wrap it in a burlap sack, shit in the sack, then douse it with gasoline and light it on fire. When the ashes cool, I need to mold them into something beautiful that will drive additional traffic to their stores.

I may be paraphrasing a bit.

But it still sucks. And it’s a person I’ve had issues with in the past, so I can guarantee that my opinion will be ignored and I’ll be forced to produce some crap that will make me wince. Ugh.

So, I’ve decided to think about other things. Like why I’m embarrassed by my agency. Allow me to explain.

Recently, the staff was asked to select our top 10 favorite Super Bowl commercials. This was for a piece that was going into the local newspaper… my agency, along with three others, would list our favorites, and why we choose them. Here’s how our list turned out:

1. “Monkey Party” (Careerbuilder.com)
2. “Mean Joe Greene” (Coca-Cola)
3. “Whassup” (Budweiser)
4. “Frogs” (Budweiser)
5. “Caveman Stick” (FedEx)
6. “1984” (Apple Computer)
7. “Terry Tate, Office Linebacker” (Reebok)
8. “Showdown” (McDonalds)
9. “Monkey Dance” (E*Trade)
10. “Instant Reply” (Budweiser)

You can find all of these on YouTube, I believe.

Now, if you’re not in advertising, you may not get the horrific mistake that’s been made in the list above. But, to my great embarrassment, none of the other agencies in the article did. The famous Apple Computer spot, “1984” is listed as #6. It didn’t even make the top five! All of the other agencies listed it as #1, as they should. What follows might be boring to anyone not working in the advertising industry, so feel free to move on to donkey porn or whatever.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought lately to why “1984” is such a great spot. The greatest spot, actually. I’ve come to the conclusion that it was an amazing synchronicity of public consciousness, fortunate timing and, if I may, high art.

First, if you haven’t seen the commercial in a while, take a look again:



Let’s start with why I think this spot elevates the common commercial into “high art.”

Like it or don’t, you have to agree that “1984” is extremely well put-together. The production values are high, the acting well done, the sound design top-notch… it’s just a beautiful commercial to watch (in a horrific, Orwellian-future kind of way, of course). And that’s not a big surprise, really, because the spot was directed by Ridley Scott (Blade Runner, Thelma & Louise, Gladiator, Black Hawk Down, Kingdom of Heaven, et. al.). Now, you probably don’t usually think about who directed a commercial--I don’t, and I work in the business--and generally there’s no reason to. But in this case, having an amazing director really helped transform this commercial from a neat concept into a living, breathing world that felt real. It’s like watching a 60-second movie, not another commercial trying to sell you something.

“1984” is what we in the industry would call “high concept.” Meaning that it breaks a lot of the rules of advertising. It doesn’t show the product for one; or anyone interacting with the product. It doesn’t present a real reason to rush out and buy the product; matter of fact, it doesn’t list any reason to buy the product--just a vague, “throw-off-the-chains-of-oppression” sort of message. It’s got to be a pretty good commercial to get you excited about the product while not even mentioning any reason why you should.

But, as well-produced as this spot is, it would fall to pieces without the second element of it’s success: “fortunate timing.”

If Apple introduces its new line of computers in 1982, this spot doesn’t work. If they roll them out in 1986, it doesn’t work. It only works in 1984, when George Orwell’s novel “Nineteen Eighty-Four” is constantly in the media and is being talked about by everyone, everywhere. This creates a spike in what I think is the #1 element that made this spot so amazing and resonate: “public consciousness.”

Starting around 1982 people started to remember the novel. Maybe they read it in high school or college. But as the fateful year got closer, the media glommed on to it and would not let it go. It seemed like every day there was something in the newspaper or on TV saying, “Will 1984 be like Nineteen Eighty-Four?” or “Are we coming closer to Orwell’s vision of 1984?” People who had never heard of George Orwell or his work were talking about the novel like they were literary scholars. Everyone knew the plot, and could talk about “Big Brother,” “Winston Smith,” the “Thought Police” and “doublethink” at length. The emphasis on Nineteen Eighty-Four only intensified as the year actually arrived: there was a movie starring John Hurt, an album by the Eurythmics--1984 (for the love of Big Brother)--countless magazine articles, etcetera, etcetera. My point is that Nineteen Eighty-Four was everywhere.

So when this TV commercial finally aired, people had been so inundated with Nineteen Eighty-Four that they instantly got it. There was no reason to waste a single second on explaining the concept. No-one said, “who’s that big guy on the screen?” or “why are all those people acting like zombies?” Instead, they said “hey! That’s Big Brother” and “that chick better toe the line or the Thought Police will come take her away.”

(Of course, part of the mystique of this spot is that it only ran once. Here's a little bit of trivia that I never knew before: "1984" was scheduled to run three times during that Super Bowl. But, when the board of directors saw it, they hated it and demanded that the spot be pulled altogether. However, Apple could only re-sell two of the three time-slots they bought, so they were forced to air the commercial. Now, that sounds a little bit like BS myth-making to me, but if it is true, then the world's greatest TV commercial damn near never made it to air.)

The real beauty of the spot is that everyone got it. It allowed the dumbest of the dumb to momentarily feel smart because they understood what in any other year would have been a rather esoteric commercial… for 60 glorious seconds, they were as smart as their high school English teachers.

But more than that, the spot had something to appeal to everyone who saw it. Clever marketing guys appreciated the “high concept” approach; academics enjoyed the renewed interest it created in a great work of literature; movie fans got off on the cinematography; hell, even the most brain-dead guy could appreciate the slo-mo boob-bounce of the woman in the orange shorts.

And, of course, Apple computer fans loved it because it was Apple giving the finger to IBM. Because that’s clearly who “Big Brother” is in the spot, the oppressive computer overlord who little upstart Apple was going to take down (don’t believe me? Take a look at this video of Steve Jobs introducing the spot for the first time at a Fall, 1983 sales meeting).

So, given the preponderous amount of evidence, why would my agency not vote for "1984"? I was stumped (as well as shocked and disgusted) until I really started to look around… the actual creative staff here (that is, the actual writers, designers and creative directors) is a pretty small percentage of the entire staff. We’re greatly overshadowed by the number of account executives, account assistants, media planners, media buyers, etc. And, by and large, we’re a really young (in age of staff) agency. So, I guess if you weren’t even BORN in 1984, the relevance of the "1984" spot might be a little lost on you. And when you grew up watching TV shows and movies with fantastic special effects, maybe the cinematography isn't so exciting. And when you’ve never known a world where Macs aren’t the hot and snazzy machines they are today, maybe the introduction of “Macintosh” isn’t so earth-shaking any more.

Or maybe you just think monkeys are funny.

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