Blasts from the Past

What's the first ad you can remember? The second? The third?

Maybe I was destined for advertising at a young age, because I can distinctly remember some classics I saw on the old black and white tube.

First one: Red Ball Jets, a predecessor to Nike. The ads specifically promised what Nike hasn't ever dared say, that being, that I would "run faster and jump higher."

Here's the second one that comes to mind. Salem cigarettes. They used a catchy little jingle, and then in the last stanza of their TV spot, left off the final the four or five words. My mind always automatically filled them in -- and does to this day. Oh, the shame of running cigarette ads during programs a grade-schooler would watch. By the way, the ditty went, "You can take Salem out of the country but...you can't take the country out of Salem."

Number three: Twenty mule team Borax. Oh yeah, Ronald Reagan himself would ad lib how effective Borax soap was during breaks in my favorite cowboy show, Death Valley Days. He was the host of the show, and sounded as believable then as he did when running for President.

But my favorite of all from boyhood days was a bumper sticker that caught my attention in 1963. I pondered over it briefly, and then the light came on. I suppose that's what any good ad does -- invites me to participate mentally, and rewards me for that participation. The bumper sticker simply read: AuH2O. Translated: Goldwater. Barry Goldwater was running against Lyndon Johnson, and if I had been old enough to vote, that bumper sticker would have earned my nod.

Just One of Those Days

At a recent ad conference, I heard Alex Bogusky state that this business (advertising) is a tough one, and many days are rather rough -- often coming with a kick to the gut. It kind of reminded me of this photo.

Credit goes to my beloved grandson, who, by all appearances, had just suffered through a difficult client meeting -- although his mother didn't seem to care. I feel your pain, Graham.

Taking Detours, Back Roads & Byways

Back in 1928, as I understand it, the Scottish scientist Alexander Fleming was studying bacteria under his microscope and noticed something odd. A strange mold had appeared on his samples, disrupting his experiment. He then noticed something even more intriguing. Bacteria wouldn’t grow near the mysterious mold. Completely by accident, Fleming made one of history’s great medical breakthroughs – he discovered penicillin.

In advertising, especially during my 15 years at Richter7, I’ve seen that same experience repeat itself over and over. You head off in one direction searching for a solution -- be it creative or strategic -- and a smart, fresh solution suddenly appears while taking a side road in the thought process. (The photo in the accompanying Harley ad perfectly portrays what I'm saying.)

I’ve found, however, the side road doesn’t usually appear until after traveling the main highway for while. Sweat and effort typically precede any magical moments I have had in the creative realm. This process was reinforced by a paragraph I ran across in the Harvard Business Review. It was written by a former Disney V.P. who is now co-chairman of a company called Applied Minds. It went like this:

“Everyone knows that innovation is risky, and it’s rare that you arrive at your expected destination. But maybe that destination isn’t so important. Maybe what you should be paying attention to are the little detours you take along the way: It’s down those back roads and byways that the real payoff usually is found. Maybe, in fact, the biggest risk in innovation lies in sticking too closely to your plans.”

Good food for thought in a business based on creativity.

A Question of Balance

Several months ago, my son's pitching coach assigned him an interesting daily drill. He was instructed to roll up a thick towel, and then balance on it with ball of one foot, while lifting the other bent leg up perpendicular to the body. You know, that classic Karate Kid position. This is intended to help him learn balance, and build leg strength, in order to stabilize his motion while winding up and throwing the ball. I tried it and failed. Tried and failed again. Tried and failed again.

Without balance, a pitcher's throw will go wide, high, low, outside -- anywhere but over the plate. Just the slightest change of angle while throwing, due to loss of balance, creates an unacceptable outcome.

Can you see where this little metaphorical analogy is going? I've always felt balance was crucial to the life of a creative person, as well. That is, if you want to stay fresh and keep the "idea bank" in your brain filled with new experiences and learning from which to draw, balance is key. But it's tough to do that when you regularly work nights and weekends. I know from experience.

To that end, a recent discussion I had with my daughter who works at Crispin in Boulder, was quite relevant. She said her boss call the interactive creative group together and said he would prefer that they didn't work weekends and late nights to the extent they had been because it didn't necessarily make them more productive. She was thrilled with the news because she felt she (and others) would be fresher, more alert and more capable of producing quality work. They would have time to re-charge their batteries, in other words. She's willing to work hard, as most sharp creatives are, but relentlessly long hours can be quite detrimental.

Balance is beautiful. Asian philosophy has promoted the concept for centuries.

I believe top-notch work can be done by working hard, and focusing with laser-like intensity, during an 8-10 hour day...and then enjoying an evening and weekend improving talents, learning, serving good causes, and, most importantly, enjoying your family. In short, that towel drill definitely applies to life.

How Not To Do Hawaii

The business trip began with a six and a half hour stamina test on a germ-filled jet with less than ample legroom. I arrived in Honolulu, having added four hours to my day, and immediately hit H-1 traffic as fierce as I find in rush hour on I-15. That shouldn't be the case in laid-back Hawaii, should it?

Upon arriving on the North Shore, I checked into what is lovingly referred to as The Roach Motel. No explanation needed. I then spent the next eight hours, until four in the morning Utah time, reviewing the client's new night show -- in order to write knowledgeably about it for upcoming ads. Long day.

The following day was spent in meetings, in a well-chilled conference room without windows. I then departed for my red-eye flight home, losing four hours of sleep in the process. It's not the way to see Hawaii. Nevertheless, there are far worse places to have a client. (For example, I once had a client in Parowan, Utah -- 180 degrees from Waikiki.) On the road back to the airport, I was able to pause and make use of my iPhone photo capability. So all was not lost, as the following photos will verify. The visit was on behalf of the Polynesian Cultural Center, a Richter7 client since the late 90's. Hence, over the years I've had plenty of chances to enjoy Hawaii the way is should be enjoyed. This particular trip was payback for those previous pleasant excursions.

Maybe It's Worth It. Maybe.

Sometimes I wonder if this blogging thing is really worth the effort. Mostly it appears to be a way to spew forth material that is meaningful to me -- but of little value to others. That being the case, it's simply a self-gratifying activity that is sometimes not so self-gratifying. Nevertheless, in the spirit of offering to the "winds of the Web" my some additional hot air, here goes another thought or two.

Let's Play Nice. A few years ago, while perusing the advertising column in CA's latest Illustration Annual, I was struck - with particular force - by the final sentence of Luke Sullivan’s epistle. It read, “Being great on paper is never as important as actually being a good person.”

His comment was in reference to some famous ad people he knew who were insufferable, arrogant egotists. Luke happens to be one of the most honored writers in the ad world. His opinion comes with some degree of clout. And it was a refreshing opinion.

One of the more eye-opening advertising experiences I've had was the opportunity to enjoy a meal with Tom McElligott (co-founder of Fallon McElligott, now simply called Fallon), one of my heroes in the business. It wasn’t so much what he said that was impressive, it was the fact that he brought along his teenaged son and obviously enjoyed being with him. He was quite deferential to his son while also being polite and cordial to those of us Utah AAF officers in attendance. He also appeared happy to answer my endless string of questions. Pretty decent, I thought, for someone who was king of the hill.

It’s nice of have heroes in the business. It’s even nicer when those heroes are worthy of emulation. Granted, McElligott had just completed alcohol rehab. (Hey, at least he enrolled.) Luke Sullivan talks about an art director with whom he worked named Bob Barrie. Bob may be the most decorated A.D. of all time. He had every reason to be a high-falutin’ jerk, but instead, Luke says, he would quietly keep cranking out great ideas even though clients frequently killed them. And, according to Sullivan, he never whined. Ever. Instead, he combined unlimited resiliency with class (and a whole lot of talent).

I worked for Bob Love (co-founder of Harris & Love, Salt Lake City) once upon a time. He had that same kind of decency and class. He was kind and gentle even when he was red-lining my copy to smithereens. Maybe that’s one reason why his agency survived and prospered so long. He was a talented writer, and that helped, too. Even when he played the role of "chief judge,” he was a pleasure to work with.

There’s a moral in all of this somewhere. I assume you can figure it out. Whatever it is, it probably has something to do with graciousness, humility and gentility.

Yuck, Yuck

Due to readership demand (that's the one person that occasionally visits my blog -- typically by mistake), I have included a few more of my favorite ad world cartoons. My collection is sufficient to include many more, but I won't inundate you at the moment.

By the way, these cartoons have proven to be a hit Richter7 PowerPoint presentation about advertising -- for students and professionals alike. Frankly, they're a much more interesting way to introduce key topics that the usual deck of charts, graphs and boring verbiage.

Enjoy. (As usual, you should be able to click on them for enlarged viewing.)