It has probably occurred to you -- that is, if you are among the 8 loyal readers of this blog -- that I don't write much about advertising lately.
It has certainly occurred to the crack RoundSeventeen Web Analytics Team who've been holed up in their cubby holes, combing through all the data, and depressingly concluded, "traffic is way down since Rich semi-retired and now finds himself writing about yoga poses he cannot do. We should send our resumes to Rotationandbalance"
Previous posts notwithstanding, that's about to change.
Not for the long term, mind you, just for today. I refrain for many reasons, not the least of which is I have two daughters currently in the biz, plying their wares as Producers, and don't want my crankiness to have any unwanted halo effect on their burgeoning careers.
More importantly, since leaving the business (and vice versa), there's not much to say that George Tannebaum hasn't already said. And done so way more eloquently than I ever could. Besdies, how many times do you want to hear me drone on about The Long Table of Mediocrity™? Or, FFDKKs, Frivolous Fuckwadian Digital Knick Knacks™.
Editorial aside: I haven't actually trademarked those two phrases, but for a while they did gain a lot of traction. You can pop them into the search bar in the upper left corner and read all about it. But you won't. And who am I kidding? No one really cares.
As it should be.
A better use of your time, or at least the next 9 minutes, would be to watch the short film entitled, The Journey.
I'll try not to give too much away, suffice it to say it's about advertising. More specifically, it's about an adman. Even more specifically, it's about an adman and his stellar work for an unnamed Pizza company.
You needn't have worked in the trenches for a pizza company to appreciate the sentiments, but I did. And the only thing of value that I took from the experience, with the exception of regular lucrative freelance paychecks, was this little gem from a planning document...
It, more than anything, explains why no one, I mean no one, Outpizzas the Hut. Whatever the fuck that means?
Nor need you have any experience with jingles. I did once. And believe me there is no fresher memory that comes to mind than playing a version of the jingle over the phone, from the recording studio, to Lee Clow only to have him reply, "...that's not how it should go, it should be more like..."
Yes, he sang it to us. Chef's Kiss!
Enough rambling.
And have some tissues ready for a life (lives) misspent.
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