Thursday, August 27, 2009

Sup Brohamulus?




Feast or famine. That's the mantra of the freelance copywriter. When the phone rings, it rings a lot and I stay up late, work on the weekends or do whatever it takes to get the job(s) done. And when it doesn't ring, well then I do laundry, take care of the kids and go to the grocery store.

I like going to the supermarket. It gives me a chance to strap myself into the blood pressure machine. There, I can see the results of my rigorous fitness routine. Today for instance, I lifted weights in the morning, swam a mile at lunchtime and will run three miles before dinner.

My resting pulse rate in the 40's puts me in the same category as many top Olympic swimmers, though I will mercifully never display any pictures of myself in a Speedo. (Actually, the last time I wore a Speedo I had more hair on my head than I do in my ears.)

Why the monumental fight against Father Time?

Advertising is a young person's business. And while I have the advantage of experience, maturity and a tireless work ethic, there is no getting around the fact that youth must still be served.

And so I verse myself in the digital medium and sweat excessively as often as possible, hoping I can maintain the illusion of being current. And praying that I never have to resort to wearing the hipster hat and a T-Shirt from the Ed Hardy Douchebag Collection.



2 comments:

Laura Sweet said...

I know what inspired this post... And in terms of your BP and resting heart rate? Showoff, you Manimal you.

max said...

All that Ed Hardy stuff is so overblown. Here here. The emperor's new scribbles.