There once was an adguy in Nantucket…
August 27, 2008
Nantucket. An old whaling town reborn for old money. By law, the homes are salty gray. The most colorful bits are the patterns of plaid lighting up men’s dinner jackets. Historical and hysterical. The people watching? Ralph Lauren and Christie Brinkley at every table. Hamburgers cost 22 bucks. But the preferred cuisine is lobster and striper. And those prices aren’t even listed. Nantucket is beautiful, no question. And I’m not complaining. Having a swell time, which may explain this convoluted blog entry.
Alas, the Gods of Advertising are not happy here. For one thing, there are no billboards in Nantucket. Not a one. Where we’re staying there isn’t even really TV. Every room at our place has sets yes, but they are used primarily for movies. And not DVD or Blu-ray. VCR only. The cassette library is housed in a closet next to the fuse box. Tonight I am considering Caddyshack or the seldom seen and underrated Night of the Comet.
I find it ironic to be in a 300 year-old village and the only form of advertising I’m seeing are for sex enhancers via email. Word to the wise: Never order Ambien from fake oversea pharmacies. They will never leave you alone.
Do I miss advertising? Of course not. But I do miss my place in it. Even as we are four wheeling over picturesque dunes, I wonder what’s going on back at the office. We have numerous productions going on. Other clients are briefing this week. Some fantastic new work for Effen Vodka got sold. And a new commercial for Powershares, shot by none other than Dante Ariola, started running yesterday. I steal away to talk to my lieutenants when my family isn’t looking. What’s going on? I want to know.
I suppose this makes me like the transposed New Yorkers and Bostonians, tapping away on Blackberries, barking missives into I-Phones. Or does it? Do those guys love their work as much as I do? I wonder. I sense a lot of them check in out of fear. Will I be undermined or usurped? Will someone else do my work? Will I even be missed at all? Best not to take that chance. Best to check in…constantly.
Who am I kidding? Fear is manifest. I think it may even be more pronounced the more successful one becomes. Beneath my love of work is, I fear, the fear of losing it. That’s what bonds me to all these madras-wearing financiers. We have it all, yes. But someone is trying to take it from us!
Ah, wiser not to think these thoughts. Have another cocktail. Oh, that’s right, I don’t drink anymore.