Excuse Me?

I've been in advertising many, many years.

I know dozens of my contemporaries are looking for ways to get out. These are mostly staffers, working managerial positions and not having half the fun they used to.

I'm not looking for a way out, mostly because I like working the way I do. As a mercenary. Sometimes actually going in to an office. Sometimes working from my house. But rarely meeting with planners, account people or clients. Or dealing with any of the mishigas that can instigate the fight or flight response.

In that respect, I'd like to work many, many more years in this crazy business.

Not to get a spot in the Super Bowl or create another award winning campaign, though that would be nice. Not to build my portfolio. I'm way past that. Not even to prove the remarkably obvious point that age and experience are more instrumental to an agency's success than free bagels, Friday afternoon keg parties or a creative department full of clueless hipsters in stingy brim fedora hats.

No.

I'd like to work in advertising so that one day, maybe, perhaps, with a little luck, on the off chance, with a sprinkle of serendipity, I might hear a client say:


"That's good, but it doesn't make me nervous. I want something that makes me feel nervous."


"I like the dog, but wouldn't it be better with a monkey?"


"I have a gut feeling about this, let's skip the focus groups."


"This feels like spoon-feeding. We shouldn't speak down to our customers."


"I like it, I don't care what my boss thinks."


"I know this should have a social media component, but let's save that money and put into the production budget."


"Let's give it more white space."


"Now that the planner has left the room, can you tell me what he does?"


I could probably come up with 100 more of the quips, but the codeine based cough medicine I've been taking is making me sleepy. Feel free to add your own.