Kingdom of Failure

One time I was working at an agency and as often happens, an emergency came up. In advertising an emergency can be anything from the client is freaking out to the building is currently on fire so as soon as you finish the script you’re working on you should leave immediately.   In this case the emergency was the need for an entirely new campaign within 24 hours. The creative team, which was made up of my CCO and the second highest ranking creative in the department, had been working on the assignment for months. The code had been declared cracked weeks ago. They were in the fine-tuning stages. Getting the campaign ready to be presented to the CEO and given its final green-light to go into production.   Now when you’re going through the exercise of developing a new campaign one of the things that can happen is that an idea can burn out while sitting on the launchpad. In other words, you come up with something everyone likes and totally buys. You spend weeks refining it so that people wi

One time several years ago I got to have lunch with Penn and Teller. I was working at an agency and I was on one of those committees where you try to come up with ways to inspire people. One of our more obvious tactics was a speaker series and a lot of times we tried to snag interesting (and more importantly, affordable) entertainers who happened to be passing through town. So when we learned that Penn and Teller would be performing at the nearby Soaring Eagle Casino and Resort, we reached out. I think it cost us $2000.00 and we had to provide them with lunch beforehand.   Now firstly, Teller talks. He’s a lovely man. And I think he requested the salmon. But just like in their onstage lives, Penn Jillete talks more and I wouldn’t describe him as lovely. I’d go with something more along the lines of brilliant and incredibly engaging. He’s a self-educated, high school drop-out who is a voracious reader and most likely has a photographic memory and an IQ in the Mensa range. He’s obsessed

I spent the last 25 years of my life sitting in buildings until midnight. I did it willingly because I believed that was what it took to do great work.   I’d be dishonest if I didn’t say that I had some really amazing and fun times during those 25 years I spent in those buildings. But if there’s anything I’ve learned over the last 14 months it’s that I didn’t have to.   I have to say, I feel pretty stupid. 25 years of sitting in buildings until midnight. That’s what I did with my life. Willingly. Happily. I Face-timed with my children. I placed unnecessary stress and resentment onto my now former wife. And I wasted a ton of time sitting in unnecessary meetings, chit-chatting with co-workers, waiting around for decisions to be made or feedback to be received and physically turning into an unhealthy, diabetic mush ball that over the last 14 months has turned into a rather lean, non-diabetic mush ball.   And here’s the real kicker. My work has never been better. My writing has never come

  They want you to be fiercely passionate about the work. But for Heaven’s sake, don’t be difficult about it. They want you to defend your ideas and fight to see them through. But you upset Leslie, so we need to have a talk with HR. They want you to dedicate yourself to this amazing group of people we have. But when lay-offs happen know that this was an incredibly difficult decision. They want you to be fearless, never satisfied and always searching for new territories. But we need you to embrace our culture and participate in a team building exercise. They want you to do work that’s disruptive, memorable and grabs people’s attention. But Andrew gets nervous if the ideas are polarizing so stay away from anything negative. They want you to see every touchpoint as an opportunity for the brand to delight and amaze. But don’t overthink this one we’ve already burned too many hours. They want you to begin each day with a positivity quote and share a personal highlight. But you’re a super dee

The famous Crispin sweatshop cover on top is from an issue of Creativity Magazine in December of 2005 when they won agency of the year. The bottom photo isn’t famous, I don’t really know where it came from and I don’t necessarily even know who those people are. They look like perfectly nice, smart folks though.   In my very humble opinion, I think the 2005 photo features the greatest advertising creative department ever assembled under one roof. These guys (and yes, they’re all guys, we’ll get to that) absolutely crushed advertising for an entire decade. They went places no one else in the industry even thought they were allowed to go. The stories about working there were legendary. It was a sweatshop and damn proud of it as you can see from the photo. They didn’t try to deny it. They leaned into it. They doubled down on it. They gave absolutely zero fucks about work/life balance. For them, and anyone who was good enough and willing to sign on, work was life. As a fairly young creative

  I believe Lou Reed’s Transformer is one of the best albums of all time. The whole thing is great— but stand-outs are Satellite of Love, Perfect Day and Walk on the Wild Side. Again, the whole album is filled with greatness but those are three damn strong songs, one of which arguably has the most famous bass line in all of rock ‘n roll.   But the record almost never happened. When the Velvet Underground broke up, Lou Reed basically gave up on music. He was depressed. He didn’t think he could write anymore songs. He didn’t know what his sound was anymore. He was lost. In fact, he moved back home to his parent's house on Long Island and got a job as  a typist.   Can you imagine that? Lou Reed was a typist after the Velvet Underground. That would have been an interesting interview. What’s your previous experience Mr. Reed? I can imagine him saying something like, let me tell you about the time I pulled a knife on Andy Warhol. I shudder to think what the job search algorithms would do

There’s this guy at the agency I used to work at named Eric. Awesome guy. I love Eric. Everyone loves Eric. He’s just one of those people who it’s literally impossible to not like. If you met Eric, you’d like him too. Because you have met Eric. Their name might have been Kevin, Omar or Debbie. But they were an Eric. There’s always an Eric. At work. In your class. On your softball team. At the bar you like to hang out at. Wherever. They are always there. And they’re always amazing. They make you and everyone else feel good. They’re cool and they’re smart and they’re funny and talented. They tell the best stories. Know funny jokes. Are always up for a laugh or a good talk. I love Eric’s. I’ve always wanted to be an Eric. But I am not an Eric. I have never been an Eric. The closest I've gotten is sometimes I’ve been able to start off as an Eric. But after a little while I always blow it by saying something I shouldn’t or being a jerk to someone because they pissed me off and my Eric s