Given the chance what advice would I give to my younger self? Not that I would listen…

The pots and pans say I’m domesticated…

For an internal agency thought piece, I was asked to provide words of wisdom to me as a 22 year-old, just starting out in Adland. Others in gyro management were asked to do the same. These pearls would then be circulated throughout the network. Mostly just for fun.

But lessons are lessons and this seemed as good as way as any to give and receive them. As part of the exercise we were also asked to dig up photographs of ourselves from that time period. This is harder than you might think, especially if you, like me, were 22 before the advent of digital photography. It’s amazing how few photos I have of myself as a young man. I found the above winner and reluctantly submit it for your amusement.

Therefore, my first piece of advice: take more selfies! Kidding. Besides, I know you’re doing that anyway. So, other than telling my 22-year old self to buy gold coins and stock in Apple what would I suggest?

First thing: Be curious. Do not shirk learning in favor of seeking pleasure. Better said, seek pleasure from learning. Then, figure out what you’re good at and become really good at it. You might not achieve greatness but you won’t suck either. Thankfully, despite my careening ambition I carried my childhood love of learning into adulthood. I also chose writing as a “path” and, despite all manner of distractions, never stopped doing it.

The harder question: What new advice would I tell my younger self?

For starters, I’d tell me not to be so uncomfortable not knowing something. “I don’t know” is a perfectly good answer, especially if it’s the truth. As a young man, I thought I knew so much… that I was hard wired for being right. I was wrong. Curiosity is a great virtue. By definition that means having questions. Not answers. Amazing how long it took me to figure that out. So, to all the 22 year old creatives out there (and anyone really) my biggest piece of advice is to ask bigger questions.

Old me enjoying a cigar…

Here’s another. Stick with the winners. At work (or anywhere) seek out people who have a gift, be it a skill you covet or even a big heart or both. Chances are they will not be unwilling to share.

This may come off as superficial but a great piece of advice I’d give my younger self is to dress better. Unless you’re Mark Zuckerberg, wearing sweatshirts and faded jeans every damn day is not a key to success. Working in a creative department has always meant come as you please but I bet I would have been taken more seriously and sold more work if I would have looked a bit more put together. Probably would have had more dates, too.

Finally, I wish my younger self had been nicer. Like a lot of twenty-somethings in advertising (then and now) I was, at times, a sarcastic and overly competitive SOB. So unnecessary. Begrudging my fellows to get ahead was foolish at best and likely a detriment. Working at a big agency, as I did, created tribes. We often competed on briefs. I’m all for healthy competition but I could have done without the snarkiness.

Alas, I doubt I would have listened to older and wiser me. Some things must come the hard way. Karma is real.

No new post since the Super Bowl. What kind of blogger am I?

Yikes. I just realized my last post went up the day after the Super Bowl. In social media time that’s like a million years ago. Lame I know. When I started Gods of Advertising waaaay back during the Bush Administration I made a commitment to posting three times a week and have done so almost without fail. Whether these posts were of equal value is a matter of opinion (I’m guessing not), but in terms of quantity I was generally on top of it.

However, this week sort of fell on my head. Two new business pitches plus an assortment of home front issues have put me behind the eight ball. I beg your pardon.

Friday features back-to-back presentations for different clients, which mean the world to our agency. Therefore, my head space was full up with client-focused issues. I know all of you in Adland feel me. Anyway, as soon as those pitches are delivered I will get back to this labor of love. Hopefully, you will still be here.

Until then…

My Superbowl ad review: highlights, blackouts, and live blogging on Mashable.

One of my favorite “spots.”

And so went another Super Bowl, like sands through the hourglass. I had the dubious honor of “live blogging” about the commercials for Mashable. I say dubious because I had to do it at someone’s Super Bowl party. Basically, that meant I stayed put in a corner of the TV room, laptop on my lap, tapping away, trying not to get nacho cheese on my Powerbook. I’m not a terribly social guy but this was downright isolationist. The host referred to me as “Hey, Blogger!” As in, “Hey Blogger, do you need a beer?” God forbid I tell him I didn’t drink. Then I’d really be an outcast. Truth be known, I greatly enjoyed the engagement. I’m not good at parties. Thankfully, given I now live in San Francisco, the game was most everyone’s priority. Some geek on his computer caused little distraction. Regardless, I am appreciative of my wife for tolerating my boorish behavior.

While it was tough hearing the commercials over the party’s din I did see and comprehend most of them. I’m not sure there were any blockbuster ads in the lot but I did enjoy several. The few that stood out were Ram’s “Ode to a Farmer,” Tide’s “Montana Stain” and the VW Bug commercial featuring a white dude from Minnesota channeling a very happy Jamaican. His line “Land of ten thousand lakes!” was one of my favorites of the night.

The blog feed suggested Samsung’s epic, star-studded “New Thing” commercial was a winner. But since it was dialog driven I heard virtually none of it. I couldn’t help but think of the old adage that in order for a commercial to be truly good it has to make sense with the sound turned off. I don’t agree with the sentiment but I do wonder how many millions couldn’t hear the actor’s lines. I suppose that’s what the Internet is for.

By far the biggest crowd pleaser was Bud’s commercial, featuring a long lost Clydesdale reuniting with its owner, now driving a beer truck. This over the melodic strains of Stevie Nicks. Derivative of War Horse it was a sweet commercial, very well done. Still, I couldn’t help Tweeting “Fleetwood Mac & Cheese.”

As for the game itself it turned out to be an exciting affair, the Niners coming back from a huge deficit only to botch a set of downs at the goal line and lose. The whole game was mired by an interminable power outage, lasting 30 minutes. It was after the delay that the 49ers made their comeback. Had they won I’m sure all the talk would be about the power failure stymieing Baltimore’s momentum. Either way, the fail moment was an embarrassment for the league, network and maybe even the United States. It is one of the biggest events in the world. Heads will roll. In the end, who gives a shit?

The blackout did result in a marketing highlight from Oreo. The brand Tweeted about “dunking in the dark,” causing a blow-up in the Twitterverse. Will anyone buy more Oreos this week? I doubt it. But what does that have to do with anything?

Alas, I found Beyonce’s Half Time show a disappointment. She doesn’t lack for confidence and good looks but her spectacle struck me as an endless Pepsi commercial, circa 1980’s. My Tweet: “I miss U2.” Call me old but by her second number even the teens in our room began leaving.

Speaking of Pepsi commercials, one of my fellow live bloggers, the famed adman, Lee Garfinkel took Taco Bell to task for ripping off his long-ago “Stay Young” campaign for the number two soft drink. He was right but then wasn’t Ron Howard’s Cocoon about rocking octogenarians as well? In any event, products making people feel young is old as dirt.

Despite Ray Lewis’s checkered past and dumb pot game comment about God being on their side, I wish to congratulate the Baltimore Ravens for a dramatic win. Baltimore could use it. I also want to thank Mashable for the opportunity to participate on their platform. Hopefully, I added something. And to San Francisco: Nice comeback guys. Next year will be fun.

Is what we are who we are? Revisiting a sermon on selfishness.

Driven to write…

A couple years ago, Pastor John Buchanan of Fourth Presbyterian Church Chicago (now retired) gave a terrific sermon on the rite of baptism, which I had the privilege of attending. Earlier he had performed the sacrament on two babies. And so later spoke of names, identities and how they relate to God’s plan for us. Interesting stuff. Especially for a borderline agnostic like me.

While there was much to glean from his sermon, I want to focus on one thing in particular. Buchanan referenced a book he’d read by Sister Joan Chittister (The Gift of Years) that struck a nerve with him. It did the same for me. I think many of you will relate to it as well. We define ourselves by our work. It becomes the Who, What, Where, How and Why of our lives. Can you deny it?

In our society, introductions to people almost always include asking what the other person does for a living. I do it all the time: “So, Phil, what do you do?” Big deal. It’s a good way to find common ground.

But what happens, the pastor asked, when ‘what we do’ is over with or, worse yet, taken from us as in layoffs or job eliminations? Do we lose our identities? Do we become nobodies in the eyes of our peers and ourselves? Buchanon suggested living by such a self-absorbed credo devalues us as human beings, often causing serious anxiety and depression. In America, our identities are inextricably tied to ‘what we do’ versus who we are or what we believe in. Take away that and we’re left with… what exactly? Given the current recession and myriad job losses, his sermon was especially poignant. Yet, even in good times the ‘what we do’ credo is troubling. For one thing: what happens when we retire?

Uh oh.

I have always unabashedly identified myself as a writer, be it of copy, editorial or fiction. To wit I wrote and edited my high school newspaper (The Lane Tech Warrior). I did the same for both student papers at the University of Wisconsin, Madison (The Daily Cardinal and Badger Herald), not to mention scribing for an independent publication, The Madcity Music Mirror. I started my career as a copywriter at Leo Burnett and continue to do so at gyro in San Francisco. I’ve written three novels and dozens of short stories, some of which have been published. I wrote two screenplays. I write and maintain Gods of Advertising as well as The Rogue’s Gallery, which, as some of you know, was originally intended to be a forum for copywriters to showcase their writing.

So, yeah, for me it’s all about the writing. The point I’m building to: What happens when all that ends, as one day it surely must? I get paid to write and creative direct copy. This also gives my blog a modicum of credibility. Take away my job and then what do I do? Relax? Hell, I barely do that now. How am I supposed to do it 24/7?

According to Buchanan, if we are spiritually fit we are more content and serene, regardless of our employment status. But getting fit means letting go of intense personal ambitions. Self-centeredness must slip away. Easier said…

To me writing is a very selfish act, even if for clients. It has a narcotic effect. I not only get off doing it; I can’t stop. There is always another brief, another story, another presentation. Writing takes me away from my family, friends and other obligations. Buchanan suggests it also takes me away from God.

His point isn’t that writing is a despicable act (even ad copy!) but that putting it before others and God potentially is. Similar counseling is given to alcoholics: ‘Get outside of your head,’ we are told. ‘Think of someone other than yourself!’

I promise. Just as soon as I complete this post, rewrite that presentation, and edit some copy…

(Special thanks to friend, Anne Ross for reacquainting me with this post and Buchanon’s brilliant sermon. It is a lesson I have yet to master.)

On shining opportunities over the Bay. Manning the gyro Sub.

The call of duty beckons…

In Adland, people come and people go. Turnover happens, now more than ever. Without long term incentives employees are not bound. Upheaval in our industry exasperates an already virulent tendency: to keep moving.

Agencies feel the urge as much as individuals. Like a submarine, new crew is necessary to keep the ship going, to keep up with the other subs, to stay fit. While we may feel distraught to see a beloved crewmember leave, it is part of an agency’s lifecycle, inevitable as the tides.

For a long time I was the anomaly. I spent my first 15 years at the venerable Leo Burnett Company in Chicago. I seriously thought I’d never leave. All my vocational dreams were coming true. I had great partners and bosses. I created lots of work, some of it good, some of it even very good. I felt a part of something bigger than myself. Alas, that strong tie didn’t fray. It was severed. A wave of corporate jive crashed over my head and I swam for the doors. For me wanderlust came late and not without a strong kick in the ass.

For a time I looked back in anger -a pointless endeavor and one I don’t recommend. But then I signed on to another ship. And then another. Like you, I was no longer a “company man.” My updated goal was to be of maximum use. Last year, I took the helm at gyro in San Francisco. She is a relatively small ship but with great ambitions and a stellar crew. Our mission is to create humanly relevant ideas, often for clients unaccustomed to them. Of course it’s hard. But I am loyal to this brief and despite the many challenges feel its potential on a daily basis.

Join me.

I’m looking for good crew: Specifically, an art director with web production capabilities and knowledge of B2B marketing, someone who knows their way around technology-based clients. In addition to, or instead of, we will also consider men and women who create and design content, be it websites or online advertising. Doers in new media are welcome to enlist. Speaking of media, a position also exists for a top strategist. Lead generation. Emerging platforms. You know the drill, call us.

Turnover happens. And we’ve seen our bit. Yet, now it’s time to reload. 2013 started with a new President. Maybe you’re next?

Yes, we will use age-old methods to fill these positions. But I’m trying a newer one. Hell, if I find one great recruit this blog will have been worth it. In the oddly timeless words of Van Halen’s David Lee Roth, “Change, nothin’ stays the same/ Unchained, ya hit the ground running.”

Interested? Hit me up on Linkedin.