Mysteries of life

Today, this woman, former TV show contestant, Omarosa is working.

Today, as of this writing, I, a 44 year old freelance copywriter, am not.

Mind you, I have been busy lately. Last week alone, I handled a B2B campaign for a manufacturer of plumbing valves. A manifesto writing exercise for a maker of malware detection software. And some promos for some reality housewives wannabe show that will air in C-SPAN's prime 3AM slot.

But today there is nothing on the plate. And so I'll be dialing for dollars. Pounding the inter web pavement in search of agency reviews, unsatisfied clients and small production houses in Sacramento looking for some branding expertise.

It's not glamorous by any means. But it is the life I've chosen. And it's the poison I prefer.

I can't sit at the Long Table of Mediocrity™ (a term I'm seeing my colleagues use more and more.) Nor can I stomach the unpalatable gruel of jargon and process that is force-fed on staffers at an ad agency on a daily basis.

And yet I cannot help but to scratch the Omarosa itch.
She is working today.
And I am not.

Not to appear immodest, but seriously?

Here's a woman whose sole qualification seems to be her willingness to blow smoke up Precedent Shitgibbon's arse. She is seated near the levers of power. She has the capacity to shape what happens here and around the world.

And here I am hoping to get booked with a startup company that makes avocado-flavored butter.

I can't help but to be reminded of a conversation I had way back in 1998.

I was at Chiat/Day and we had just been named Agency of the Year. We were hitting on all cylinders. Winning awards. And producing campaigns that transcended into pop culture. It truly was a golden time.

We were pitching some new piece of business. And going up against some lightweight competitors. It was at this point when I found myself in a conference room sitting next to Lee Clow. Those of you who know me know I don't do the flattery thing. Sycophancy has never been in my wheelhouse, and probably goes a long way to explain my current situation.

In any case, I thought this was a good opportunity to ask Clow a question that had been on my mind.

"Lee, I don't get it, Chiat is arguably one of the best agencies in the country. In the world for that matter. We're winning awards for Apple, Levis and Taco Bell. Why do we even have to pitch clients? Shouldn't they be coming to us?"

Lee looked at me, slightly befuddled. Like I lacked some fundamental understanding of how the world was not fair and how business was conducted in the real world. And I'll never forget his response.

"I left my coffee in my office, can you go get it, Brian?"