Lose the Fear.

Did you notice the BMW magazine ad that's been appearing of late. It's a two-page spread, nicely designed --although there's nothing stunning about the visuals. Rather, the stunning part of the ad was the copy. (Spoken like a true copywriter, eh?)

The ad's verbiage can just as easily be applied to life as to a car. It's also highly appropo when it comes to creating advertising. Here's what it said:

Lose the fear.

Lose the groupthink.

Lose the yes-people.

Lose the proper channels.

Lose the chain of command.

Lose the safety nets.

Lose consensus.

Lose the happy medium.

Lose the compromises.

Lose Plan B.

Somewhere along the road to success lie the cones of mediocrity, urging you to take the expected route. To this we counter with the counsel to steer clear of the middle of the road.

A fine piece of advice. I will promptly throw away anything that resembles a white flag of surrender. I will perform my duties, as a father and ad man, with more faith, upgraded optimism and a finer finish than ever. Thank you, BMW, for the motivational speech.

Why Did I Check My Doggone Email?

So I'm on vacation in Yellowstone last week, staying at the ancient, timbered icon known as Old Faithful Inn -- a family favorite. It was a final few days of summer with my wife and son, before he heads back to school. The twisting, warm-water chute at Firehole Falls was as exciting (and rocky) as ever. The hot springs, geysers and paintpots were as wonderfully mesmerizing the umpteenth time I saw them as the first. The buffalo were still wandering in the middle of the road. The rainbows remained parked over the dramatic Lower Falls. And the Inn itself was as quaint and comfortable as I remembered from previous visits.

And then I checked my email by iPhone.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Suddenly I was no longer in a volcanic wonderland, I was mentally at my office confronted by an irate client who was incensed about an estimate for TV production. My heart sank, my stomach wobbled, and my mind became overwhelmed with worry. In a flash, the hot pots weren't so hot, nor the geysers so great.

Modern portable technology had invaded my idyllic getaway. It was my own fault, I realize that. Sure, I have that phone in order to be easily accessible, and to be constantly in communication. But "constant" should not include my vacation.

Fortunately, my wife talked be down off the ledge, calmed my heart, and rehashed Dale Carnegie principles I could use with the client upon my return. But in the process, I learned my lesson: Keep the vacation and business silos separate. A vacation is supposed to refresh me, to make me giddy to return to the Richter7 advertising chores at hand. I almost blew it. Thankfully, I can still hear the Canadian geese honking on the Madison River's banks.

A Little Piece of Positivity

I recently heard Alex Bogusky say that every day in advertising seems to come with a kick to gut. That was his summation statement after discussing how difficult the ad business can be -- especially nowadays. That's why he tries to practice what he calls "dilusional positivity." I suppose that's his way of saying that regardless of the often trying circumstances, he endeavors to put an upbeat spin on things. It's a good philosophy.

A man I respect a lot, named Gordon B. Hinckley, was always preaching optimism. "Have faith, be believing, and things will work for the best," was how he put it once.

I'm trying. But after Richter7 has had to reduce pay, lay off people, and cut others back to four days a week, it's been an uphill battle. But I'm really trying.

It helped to stop by one of the most beautiful and peaceful places on earth last week while doing some filming on behalf of the Polynesian Cultural Center, a Richter7 client. The accompanying photos give you a glimpse of this tranquil place of contemplation. I've always had a soft spot for all things Asian, since living in Taiwan for two years while serving as a missionary. So this place, called the Byodo Inn Temple, brings back wonderful memories -- and helped me focus on the positive. There are certainly worse places to have a client than in Hawaii.

It Is Better To Be Trusted Than Loved.

Here are results from the latest Gallup poll showing the percentage of adults who rate people in various professions as honest and ethical:

Nurses – 82%
Pharmacists – 67%
Doctors – 65%
High School Teachers – 64%
Policemen – 61%
Clergy – 54%
Advertising practitioners – 11%
Telemarketers – 7%

Based on my memory of the last ranking, we’re up 2%. Party time. Meanwhile, the clergy percentage fell dramatically based on scandalous revelations over the past handful of years.

To further improve our image, I propose the more we in the ad biz eliminate flowery, cliché adjectives, the better off we’ll be. The more we can avoid exclamation points, the better off we’ll be. In fact, let's shun them altogether. And the more we meet promised deadlines and budgets, the better off we’ll be. If all else fails, maybe we could get a nursing school as a client.

On the bright side, Gallup notes we rated on a par with lawyers (I guess that’s a bright side), and more highly than congressmen and car dealers.

Like my dad would always say, "David, it's better to be trusted than loved."

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.