Archive for January, 2010

Car Crash=No Post

Wednesday, January 27th, 2010

It was a great ski trip. Then, on his way back to the city to face the reality of work, my sweetheart hit a patch of black ice yesterday morning, and rolled the car on  a major highway. Like all stubborn men, he tried to refuse treatment.  They talked him into the ambulance, took him to a VERY rural band-aid station where I found him shaking like a leaf. Fractured rib. Car is totaled. The living room has turned into a mini-hospital, the dining room my office. Very crabby man…but very lucky.  He was wearing a seat belt. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here to be crabby. We’ll be right back after another Vicodin.

A letter from Satan

Monday, January 18th, 2010

I admire good writing so much.  Lily in Minneapolis sent this to the Star Tribune. She nailed it.

Dear Pat Robertson,

I know that you know that all press is good press, so I appreciate the shout-out. And you make God look like a big mean bully who kicks people when they are down, so I’m all over that action. But when you say that Haiti has made a pact with me, it is totally humiliating.

I may be evil incarnate, but I’m no welcher. The way you put it, making a deal with me leaves folks desperate and impoverished. Sure, in the afterlife, but when I strike bargains with people, they first get something here on earth — glamour, beauty, talent, wealth, fame, glory, a golden fiddle. Those Haitians have nothing, and I mean nothing. And that was before the earthquake. Haven’t you seen “Crossroads”? Or “Damn Yankees”? If I had a thing going with Haiti, there’d be lots of banks, skyscrapers, SUVs, exclusive night clubs, Botox — that kind of thing. An 80 percent poverty rate is so not my style. Nothing against it — I’m just saying: Not how I roll.

You’re doing great work, Pat, and I don’t want to clip your wings — just, come on, you’re making me look bad. And not the good kind of bad. Keep blaming God. That’s working. But leave me out of it, please. Or we may need to renegotiate your own contract.

Best, Satan

Pat!  Satan was a lesbian!!

Today…

Friday, January 15th, 2010

…I watched a 60+ clients eyes glaze over as I showed him TweetDeck and explained Twitter.

…I was polite to a guy named Brad from India who called about Internet Advertising.

…I did not feel sorry for telling a deadbeat client that if he can do his own web updates, then by all means, please do.  But if he wants me to teach him how, there would be a charge.

…I did not toss the postage meter out the window when it said “inspection due”.

…I out-shocked the client who calls me and attempts to shock me with excessive swearing and vulgar, sexual overtones. I actually rather enjoyed it.

…I was patient with the client who, instead of reading what I sent to her BEFORE she called me, she read it to herself while I was on the phone with her.

…I realized I will NEVER be able to write down every thing that’s in my head.

…I counted the minutes until it’s time to load the car and go skiing for a week.

See ya’ January 25th!  I’M ON VACATION!!

Can’t ride the Harley in this weather!

Makin' creative

Monday, January 11th, 2010

We were a company of 12 at one time, and now we’re down to three, along with a team of brilliant freelancers who are at the ready. This is by my design. But every Monday morning, I look around and wonder …where’d I put that creative, anyway?

Big agencies have big teams to develop big ideas for big clients. But it’s all relative. Our small clients have much at stake: keep the doors open, sell stuff, make payroll, stay in business…just like “big” clients.  And, they expect us to deliver a solid message that brings warm bodies through the door. Maybe our role is even more vital since these small companies depend on repeat, long term customers. They battle Super-WalMart and other Big Box Stores daily. Small businesses look for their niche and a way to survive. They look to us to make their message meaningful and effective.

Example: I have a mom and pop furniture store who is open only one night a week, closed on Wednesday and Sunday, (yeah, I said closed Wednesday) and open only 8am-5pm the other days.  Yet, in spite of the way they force customers to conform to the way they do business, and with all the Big Box competition they have, they’ re still the ones to beat.  I must be a genius.

When you’re as small as we are, time is the valuable commodity. There’s not a lot of time to bounce ideas, experiment a little, write, re-write and re-write again…not a lot of time to savor the process of making the work. While I get bored and frustrated with that one (long-time) client who wants the same “show and tell”  TV, it works.

I got into the business over 27 years ago because of the creative process. I love being a real part of video projects, touching the many different aspects of making the work. But the “give and take”, “lets try this and if it doesn’t work lets try something else” days are long gone. In order to survive, we must churn out “new and different” as best we can because even in a small town, clients expect your best effort.

We’re open, but not on Wednesday or Sunday.

Only in Hooterville.

Got that B Roll!

Friday, January 8th, 2010

The snow was intense overnight in Hooterville. Had to shovel my way out of the drive only to get to my high rise office overlooking the river and find no email and no elevator. Snow boots on and off, coat, gloves, drive slow, ugh! There’s been no time to think about anything but client stuff. And thankfully, there’s plenty to think about.  So while I hate to be such a “cut and paster”, this was too priceless not to pass along. (via Renegade Agency Confessional!)

Starting the New Year Right

Wednesday, January 6th, 2010

You can’t tell me that big agencies don’t deal with the same idiocy we deal with here. (We just wipe Pork Rind crumbs off the conference table.)Welcome to Day Three of the New Year at a little agency in the middle of nowhere but at the center of everything.

Email: How’s the web site coming? Well, we haven’t heard from you since mid-November. We need your product information and most importantly, APPROVAL on the revised proposal we sent.

We need to reshoot the open. My wife thinks my shirt makes me look like a porn star. (It doesn’t) but what’s wrong with that?

I know you handle our advertising but we let a company who specializes in web design do our new site. Uh, OK.  But they’re using the wrong logo.

We suggested adding a campaign oriented domain name to further drive their message… a natural move. Their marketing director said: Oh, No. We cant change the domain name. I’ve already placed all the yellow pages. What part of this does she not understand?

Acct Rep: They paid one of the invoices but not the other. OK, you’re mailing it to the wrong department. Send it here-we’ve told you this before. Can I fax it? No. Mail it. Can I email it? It would be quicker. No, they want a mailed invoice. Can I call him? NO, BITCH. MAIL THE BILL OR I’LL DRIVE UP AND CUT YOU.

There.  I feel better now.

Don, where are you when I need you?

The Chick Predicts

Saturday, January 2nd, 2010

Scratchings here in the Hen House can tell us many things…like the Turkish dude who read my coffee grounds the other night. (Man, was he way off!)  The Psychics have predicted all sorts of interesting stuff. Imagine… a secret cloning project and they clone a famous person. Yes, Martha, that really WAS Elvis you saw in that convenience store. Anyway, with over 11 million hits for 2010 Predictions, I’ll offer  few of my own.

The client who hoped I could tell him who his customer was will become a greeter at the Super Walmart.

Rush Limbaugh? It was a severe case of vitriol. There is no cure for that.

George Parker stays exactly the same…and for that we are truly grateful.

The Happy Soul Industry will become a hit TV series. The late Bea Arthur will play God (she’s already in Heaven, so why not? Her sense of humor would be ideal). Steffan will retire to the south of France where he will make fine wine under the Curiously Heavenly label.

The Ad Contrarian will become President of the United States, fire everybody and start over.

The guys at Red House Furniture will open a chain of stores across the country, ending racial hatred through the selling of fine leatherette loveseats.

And speaking of furniture, Tim will trade in his Steel Chair for a Lazy Boy.

Jetpacks will get his novel published, make scads of money and go into business with Balloon Boy’s father dabbling in experimental aircraft.

Glenn Beck throws himself under a bus. Finally.

People will learn to spell, use their turn signals, and quit trying to shove their religion down other peoples throat. Hey, I can dream, can’t I?