Here's Johnny.....

           Ed McMahon had a great quote on a recent TV documentary about Johnny Carson. He said, about being a sidekick, "You had to be good, but not too good".  I've been there, done that in advertising.

           I've paid my dues as the sidekick to a variety of creative directors, each with their own priorities and their own schtick. It wasn't easy.

          As Associate Creative Director, I worked for one CD who simply left it up to me to get all the department's work done. He knew I could be depended on to get everything done, even if I had to do a ton of it myself. He said I was "the perfect combination of the Protestant work ethic and Jewish guilt". He spent most of his time at lunch.

          Another creative director loved my work, discussed his problems with me --- until his envy finally emerged. After a meeting he threw a dart into one of my layouts he had presented in the meeting. Being the strong, silent type, I never did tell him why I quit.

         Still another creative director I worked for simply over-creative-directed. Everything had to be exactly his way. He came to every meeting equipped with two red pencils and two red pens. He re-wrote people's copy on the spot. When I left he offered me a huge raise to stay. But it was blood money.

         Throughout these tenures, I learned to be "good but not too good". It had its rewards. Good pay, a good title, a good amount of respect. I agreed to be second banana in return for less responsibility. I could always duck and let my boss take the fall for unpopular decisions.

          But I also had less authority to do things my way. I eventually let myself become the top banana and took the bad with the good. It had its painful moments (such as when you come in second on a new account). Ultimately it felt more honest.

         My advice to you: go for it!

(Footnote: Top banana and second banana are burlesque and vaudeville terms. The second banana takes it in the kisser with the soda water. The top banana is the comic who does the spritzing.)



 

The winding career path home.

          When I was interviewed by my student Miranda, she said it was for her class in creative non-fiction. The answers I gave her were precisely that.

            Miranda started by asking about my career path in advertising. I told her that I skipped around so much, I didn't need a resume, I needed a map. Interned in Detroit, went to Chicago, back to Detroit, moved to Ohio,  then back to Chicago for two more jobs before I moved to Ann Arbor for my own agency, for which I started an office in San Francisco. Quite a waste of energy, actually.

            My friend Dennis, who now teaches advertising at the University of Kentucky, says he envies my sense of adventure. I think it was more like falling in love every time I got a valentine, in the form of a job offer.  Not such a good policy. I probably would've ended up at the same place by staying at my first job.

            Miranda now knows I have met some crazy people and some great ones. And some crazy great ones. She asked me if my first jobs were like "Mad Men". In reference to how women were regarded at work, I said, yes. Sort of like possessions. That's why every time an executive left, his secretary was likely to go with him. The only women execs were in the creative department. They were the ones with the hats.

            In reference to drinking, not so much. I did have an agency president who threw a cocktail party in the main conference room every day at 4:30. In social relationships, as in most everything else, we were an hour behind New York. I had so much to learn about advertising, I was oblivious to most of the goings-on, but I do know that every once in awhile a vice-president would leave "to pursue other opportunities." In other words, he got caught having an affair.

            I hope I told Miranda the two most important things in advertising: one is to learn to yawn with your mouth closed (very important in meetings). The second is to learn to read upside down, a lifesaver when you're presenting ads to a client.

             I didn't tell her about the writer who got so angry that he threw the potted plants in the lobby down the elevator shaft. Or the endless potential for rejection, because your idea is your baby. I didn't want to scare her.

            In the end, it's all worth it. Advertising is a truly enjoyable way to make a living. And it needs all the fresh thinking it can get!

     

Office with hot and cold running ads.

         Which came first, the cool new offices or the creativity of the staff?

          I was looking at the video "Art and Copy" for the eleventh time the other day, and the first things my students comment on are the workspaces at Chiat/Day in Los Angeles and Weiden and Kennedy in Portland.

          At Weiden, the Nike agency, they have built a "nest" for meetings. They also have a real totem pole and the employees have designed a wall with 100,000 clear push-pins that spell out "Fail Hard". Chiat/Day, the ad agency for Apple, is open and airy, and even has a place to practice your jump shots.

         They're both very impressive and, of course,  those two agencies consistently do some of the best work in the ad business. What's the connection? I'm not certain there is any.

         In the '60s, the so-called "Golden Age of Advertising", the agency that changed everything was Doyle Dane Bernbach. They're the agency that gave birth to the campaigns for Volkswagen, Avis, Cracker Jack, and Alka Seltzer. They also developed many of the top creative people in advertising. (They were the agency that Mad Men are worried about.)

        Doyle Dane was located in New York at 20 West 43rd Street, across from the Public Library, a very modest older building. So modest that the security system consisted of guard dogs that would be let loose on each floor at 6 p.m. The creative people couldn't work late at the office even if they wanted to. (Not that they would have. That wasn't the Doyle Dane culture.)

        Maybe I can conclude that the setting does have an effect on creative people. But it doesn't always have to be a fantastically beautiful setting. Maybe getting out before the guard dogs and going home for a good night's sleep had something to do with it.

       Doyle Dane Bernbach did eventually move to Madison Avenue in a gleaming new building. I can't say that their work improved, though. It never reached the heights it did at 20 West 43rd.

       Other things are more important than a fresh office. Such as a fresh mind. And good clients and colleagues. Maybe today I'll go to the simple public library and redecorate my brain.