Thursday, August 22, 2019

I can't teach.


Took a little mental inventory the other day. Turns out I know a lot of teachers.

My brother in law is a teacher. His sister and her husband are teachers.

My camping buddy is a teacher. His wife is a teacher/administrator.

My former roommate/writing partner is a teacher. Actually, a professor at Fordham.

And almost everyone I know in advertising who is my age (44) or greater has gone on to become a teacher. Most of them teaching the "profession" of advertising.

I never looked at what we do as some type scholarly field worthy of a classroom or a chalkboard. I tend to see what we do as my former boss Steve Hayden sees it -- "Oh you can make money slapping clever words on pictures to sell shit, cool."

That is not to say I haven't considered it, I have. Nor is it to say I've never been approached to "teach" a class, I have.

Besides the obvious salary reduction, the hours spent confined in a classroom and the self-imposed discipline of forcing myself to wear a tie --all proper teachers should wear a tie -- I simply have no idea how I'd go about explaining how to do, what it is I do.

1. Put on a big pot of coffee. I like a dark roast to start the caffeine flow as quickly as possible.

2. Log onto to the computer. First check social media. Get that morning fit of rage out of your system.

3. Snap off a few quick wisecrack comments. I call this limbering up.

4. Look at the brief.

5. Find ways to ignore the brief. If planners and strategists were any good at what they do, they'd be writers and art directors.

6. Start writing.

7. Keep writing.

8. Stop writing, allow myself some distraction. Go back to Facebook and make a few more wisecrack comments. I call this staying warm.

9. Throw out the initial work, chances are it sucks.

10. Start writing again. Then write some more.

That's about it.

For the second class I'd be drawing a complete blank.

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