Slow and Steady

Two years or so I started going to the gym. It started in the dead of winter in Chicago. I was new in town. Knew next to nobody. So I decided to pay for a friend to talk to. He also happened to be a trainer and Olympic lifter.

Over those two years I began to learn the importance of range of motion. Doing the movements slow. Controlling the negative. Letting the muscle stretch and contract. Basically, doing every exercise right and making every rep count.

Sounds like meathead speak. I know.

At this point, I'm starting to know what I'm doing. I've gone out on my own and started working at this gym near the office.

Every morning at 6am I'm there. And so is this guy.

Middle-aged, like me. Average in every way, like me. A little disheveled, like me. He looks like he just started getting into this thing some call fitness, like me.

But he's different.

Every morning, every exercise, every rep — he moves like a snail. Slow, deliberate and painstaking. Now, most guys you see in gyms are hapless. Throwing around sixty-pound dumbells, slamming plates around like idiots. There's no form. Just weight.

The guy though. He takes goes light and slow and careful. And I know, he's getting more out of it. He's feeling it more. He's learning more. And in the long run, he'll benefit from it more.

And I appreciate it him for that. More than the two hundred pound bench pressers who clearly don't know what they're doing.

Slow and steady.

I'm sure there's something be learned in there somewhere. 

"It's never been a more exciting time to be in advertising."

I feel like I've read this quote from industry Vaynerchucks a few times.

Some variation of "It's never been a more exciting time to be in advertising!"

I get it from their standpoint — I mean, If I were racking in millions off the backs of overworked employees — I'd say the same thing too.

And it's true. It has never been a more exciting time to be in advertising.

Right now, AI is being tested and put into practice to make the ads for us.

Every day, another CMO talks about how advertising agencies need to get more creative, while at the same time doing everything they can to keep their agencies from getting more creative.

More has never been made with less. And so fast.

The vendor-ization of our industry has never been so strong.

There's never been more late nights and weekends spent on social posts nobody sees.

Agency accountability is at an all-time high. Empowerment is at an all-time low. 

Shops like Barton F Graf — the bellwethers for creativity — are closing at a record pace or just going the Droga5 route because creativity matters less than ever.

I'm sure there are more.

Truly, it is an exciting time to be in advertising.

Exciting. Like going down with the Titanic exciting.

What matters

Lately, I've been spending a lot of time thinking about what matters. And by lately, I mean probably the last three or so years. It's partly why I started this blog. I'm trying to sort out what matters. What's really important. And most importantly, what's not important.

This industry is a constant barrage of trivial decisions and topics that have amount to almost nothing.

Should that car in the spot be blue or black? Who cares?
Should that can of beer look so sweaty? It looks so sweaty? Who cares?
Should the spot be a :15 or should it be a :30? Who cares?
If it's online is it important if the spot can be seen and understood without sound? Who cares?
Should the product be on the left side or right side? Who...cares?

Blah, blah, blah blah.

Nobody fucking cares.

Consumers sure as shit don't.

Here's what matters — message.

Saying something worth listening to.

But what do I know?

This post doesn't really matter.

Servant or savior

It is a terrifying time to be alive in America. If you're a conservative in the Midwest the commies are coming to take your guns.
If you're a progressive on the coasts the conservatives are on a full-frontal assault on our democracy. Either knowingly or as unwitting participants of a Russian propaganda scheme.

As a lefty growing up in a world of bible belt righties, it feels like the world is falling apart.

I am not religious. But all this Trump stuff reminds me of false prophets with golden statues. It's creepy.

Anyhow, as the end draws nye, the Democratic primaries sort out the one thousand candidates, this impeachment thing shakes out and whatever impending shitshow happens next in this world we live in happens — I'm sobered by one thought.

Presidents are servants not saviors.

Donald Trump is not coming to save your coal industry. He's not coming to save you money. He's not here to save you. No matter what he tells you. No matter what Fox tells you.
Biden is not going to save you either.
Bernie will not save you.
Kamala will not save you.
Warren will not save you.

They're supposed to serve. People serve at the pleasure of the President. The President serves at the pleasure of the people.

And until this pedestal we put our Presidents on is torched — this nightmare is going to continue.

Listen, Listen, Listen, Listen.

I've lived in Chicago nearly two years now. I like it. I've always considered myself a "middle of nowhere" guy. But Chicago has proved me wrong. It's clean and comfortable. Not too loud for a city.
The weekends downtown are peaceful. I live close enough to the river to enjoy it. And my little eight-block radius of a world has everything I really need.

Truth is though, I haven't seen much of it. My first full year here was spent in Super Bowl commercial hell. And the following year after, just some life changes kept me from venturing out.

I haven't heard much of it either. That's because most of my time walking, commuting on the L, taking Lyfts and generally existing has been with headphones on.

"Airpods are my greatest purchase," you can hear me say without being asked.

They live in my ears. The once white and pristine marvels of technology are now mucky and gross. I've worn them working out, running, going to sleep, doing laundry and on the couch listening to a podcast while I watch the news and play a videogame on my Switch. I listen to them while I read. If I could shower with them, I would. I've burned through a pair already. I'm on my second.

But recently, I've tried to make the effort to live without them. At least for a little while. Starting in the morning after workouts I keep them in my pocket on the walk to work and just listen.

I wanted to remember what it was like to exist without a podcast pumping through my head or a song affecting my mood.

The things I've immediately noticed aren't that surprising.

It's sort of a meditative state. I can think about things I want to write about in the morning or just get lost in my thoughts. I'm just where I am which isn't a consistent feeling these days. My ears pick up the clinks and clanks of construction. The wind blowing. Gears turning on a bicycle. People talking on their phones. Doors opening to coffee shops.
And I actually notice I smell the coffee wafting from them.
I don't just hear more, I see more too.
And I engage. Oh, I engage. I actually talked with a stranger today. Smiled at them. Made a human connection.

That never happens.

The guy was wearing the new Airpod Pros. He says he loves them. Best purchase he ever made. Great sound quality. Noise-canceling is a gamechanger.

I think I need to upgrade my headphones.

Advertising Award Shows: A Memoriam

"Adam Smith, age 90 of some advertising agency, passed away peacefully in his sleep on Sunday. He is survived by a One Show award he won in 2001, A D&AD award in 2006 and a Gold Lion in 2010 he milked through the rest of his long graveyard shift of a career. He also won some Addy's but those don't count. His work was featured in AgencySpy. He also had a wife and a couple kids or something."

Ridiculous.

Award shows are a carrot for tired creatives who know no better, dangled as an incentive for working nights and weekends and holidays.

Award shows are for Chief Creative Officers and Account Directors and advertising journalists who just want to go to France for free. And who did not spend those nights or weekends or holidays working.

Awards shows are for lazy creative directors who don't know how to inspire a creative team to great work because they don't have a vision for it. And frankly, they can't.

Advertising award shows are for lazy recruiters and creative heads who don't want to take the time to look through books.

Advertising award shows are for short-sighted, ego-feeding CMOs who are more worried about their career than the advertising that grows their business and ensures people keep their jobs.

Award shows are an industry.

Award shows do not matter. To your spouse. To your kids. To your cousins. To your grandma.

And now you're thinking.

"Sounds like something someone who's never won an advertising award would say."

I'm at peace with it.

You take the awards I never got. I'll take the life you never had.

Some days I feel like The Wrestler

I'm not that old. I'm supposed to be in my prime. But there's this nagging feeling that ageism is creeping. The impending nighttime tide is gently licking my toes as I look at the twilight of my career slowly fading. 

Anyone with a single ounce of perspective will know that's not true. I'm not even 40. And I sound petty. 

And yet.

I don't know. Maybe it's the fact I didn't rise as fast. No portfolio school. So I had to go to the salt mines to learn. I dug my way out. Learning on the job. Didn't get the head start of those who spent the money to get their 'doctorate' in advertising from the famed Miami Ad School. They went to the big shops. The one I had to scrape and claw my way into. I've spent my time watching others do the climbing without doing the work.  

No offense. I know not all ad school kids are pariahs. But I know more than my fair share. Know-it-alls who didn't work like I did. Who didn't grind. Who wouldn't write. And didn't know how to. I'd write circles around them while they rose through the ranks. Outthink them too. Put an idea through its paces. Sally Hogshead the shit out of a single print ad. Sell the shit out of work. What do they teach those kids in portfolio school? How to take credit for other people's work? How to kiss maximum ass while doing the minimum? 

That's what it feels like anyway. 

I know it sounds like I'm bitching but I can't be the only one who feels like they're on the outside looking in constantly. Looking in on CDs who are star fuckers. Agencies who look for award winners and always end up disappointed. Lazy creatives paying for a pass. The basis on which people rise in this industry is part of the problem in this industry. 

Boy, for someone who's supposed to be in his prime. I sound a lot like someone who's past it.