Showing posts with label FCB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FCB. Show all posts

Monday, July 14, 2014

The missing chapter

There's the old saying about always leaving the audience wanting more. Apparently Fred Goldberg took it to heart, because that's exactly how I felt when I finished his excellent book, The Insanity of Advertising.

For the outsiders who think advertising's nothing but fun and glamour day in and day out - and oddly enough there are still a few - Fred pulls back the curtain and reveals the true story of just how insane this business is more often than not.

He also names names, which definitely helped make it a fun read. And of course, being the straight shooter I've known him to be, he lets everyone know exactly what he thinks of them. He's retired from the business now, so I suppose it's easier to do. Although I recall in my brief experience with him, Fred never had a problem letting anyone know what he thought, even at the height of his career.

I have to admit I was a little disappointed one story he neglected to include was the pitch for Disneyland his legendary creative shop Goldberg Moser O'Neill was involved in. While I'm sure Fred knows part of the reason his agency wound up being invited to pitch the Happiest Place On Earth, he doesn't know all of it.

Here it is.

I was freelancing and looking for work. One of the places I'd managed to work my way into for nine months was Foote Cone & Belding in San Francisco. I lived in Santa Monica at the time, so I'd fly up there Monday mornings and fly back on Friday nights. I racked up a ton of frequent flyer miles. I got upgraded all the time. I was on a first name basis with the counter people at United. Every once in a while the pilot at the end of the week who flew me home would be the one who flew me up at the beginning of the week, and he'd recognize me. The agency paid for my hotel during the week. It all felt very jet-setty.

That was the good news. The bad news is I was working on Taco Bell.

The way I'd landed the job - which was not really a great way for a creative to get in the door, but what the hell, I was there - was through the client at Taco Bell, a great guy named Blaise Mercadante. Blaise used to be VP of research at Tracy-Locke, where we worked together. I always said if I'd known he was going to wind up being the client I would've been a lot nicer to him.

Anyway, this was a couple years before the Disneyland pitch, and ever since the FCB gig ended I'd been looking for a way to get back up to San Francisco. I checked the want ads in the back of Adweek (remember those?), networked like crazy and sent out promotional pieces (remember those?) that apparently only I thought were clever.

But my love of San Francisco, my memory of the cold, bracing breeze coming off the bay and hitting me as I left the FCB office at night, was strong and seductive enough to make me do something I never did before and haven't done since.

I made a cold call. And I made it to Mike Moser at Goldberg Moser O'Neill.

For some reason, I thought about ten minutes into the lunch hour he'd still be at his desk and it'd be a good time to ambush him. I was right. He picked up the phone and I introduced myself, fully expecting the bum's rush. Instead, Mike talked to me for a good half hour, asking about my experience in general and at FCB in particular, what ads GMO had done that I liked, what was going on at the agency and what their needs might be in the future. He told me to definitely stay in touch.

When I got off the phone with Mike Moser, two things were crystal clear. First, as badly as I'd wanted to work for GMO when I made the call, I wanted to work there a hundred times more after. And second, from that point on no one could ever say a bad word to me about GMO (not that anyone was trying to).

Fast forward a bit. My friend Paula Freeman became VP of Marketing for Disneyland Resort. Both she and her boss, Michele Reese, decided to have agencies pitch the Disneyland business, and Paula asked me to lead the charge as creative consultant on the pitch.

I don't think I have to tell you - even though I'm about to - how fast GMO became the first agency on my list. They had a record of outstanding, impactful creative work on Apple, Dell, California Cooler, Kia and several other accounts. And I had never forgotten Mike Moser's kindness in taking my call.

GMO pitched the business against three other agencies and won hands down. The work was smart and evoked emotion taking the brand to a new level. Oddly, on the heels of the pitch, GMO was asked to pitch again against Leo Burnett from Chicago -- Disney World's agency of record. Burnett wasn't in the original group of agencies invited, and hadn't been invited by any of us. An edict came down from Disney and Michael Eisner, who was close, personal friends with the EVP of marketing in Orlando, that they be allowed to pitch the business. Sometimes, the Magic Kingdom isn't so magical, especially when they turn from the happiest place on earth to the most political and corporate place on earth.

Of course Fred, shooting straight as ever, wasted no time in letting us know how completely unhappy he was, and what utter bullshit it was GMO had to re-pitch a second time. And he was right. But, despite having the feeling the fix was in - a feeling we shared - the lure of a highly visible, blue chip account like Disneyland is worth the extra step, both for what it is and what it could become.

Goldberg Moser O'Neill presented their exceptional creative work. They were Paula's, Michele's and my first choice to get the business. In the end though, it went to Leo Burnett in Chicago

Insanity indeed.

On a personal note to Fred, as Paul Harvey would say, "Now you know the rest of the story." I enjoyed your book immensely, and hope you're hard at work on a sequel. I know you have many more stories to tell.

And frankly, it'd be insane if you kept them to yourself.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Northern exposure

I've always loved San Francisco. And a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I had one of the best gigs under the best circumstances ever there.

I like to file it under I won't be seeing a deal like that again.

Basically the head of research I worked with at Tracy Locke became the VP of Marketing for Taco Bell (if I'd known he was going to become a client I would've been a lot nicer to him). FCB San Francisco was their agency. Since I'd always wanted to work in San Francisco, I called him and asked if I could drop his name often and recklessly to get an interview.

He did me one better: he called the creative director and set up the interview for me.

Normally I'd say any way you can get in is good. But when you're a creative person coming in through the client door, you're viewed with a lot of suspicion. All you can do is give it your best and keep showing them you know who's signing your paycheck.

I lived in Santa Monica at the time, and commuted up there early Monday mornings, and back on Friday nights. Obviously this was before I had kids.

My deal was that FCB paid for my commute, all my meals, and the hotel they put me up at each week (the fabulous Tuscan Inn). Plus the cab fare to and from the airport and my house.

I freelanced on Taco Bell for three months, then FCB asked me to come on staff. On the flight back to L.A. that night, I called my wife and told her they'd made me an offer. Coincidentally my wife was interviewing at the now non-existant Stein Robaire Helm at the time, and they'd also made her an offer the very same day. We decided San Francisco was the one we were going to pursue.

Besides FCB covering all my expenses, I also managed to negotiate a six month severance contract (okay, sometimes the client door is a good thing). Today you have as much chance of negotiating a severance contract as you do finding the Holy Grail.

The day my wife and I were going to fly up and look for apartments, my creative director got taken off the business. Never a good sign. We decided to wait and see which way the account was going to go.

The way it went was into review. For the next five months, until we lost it, I worked on both the business and the pitch out of the FCB offices in San Francisco and Chicago to save it.

After freelancing three months, then working on staff for five, I sat out two more months (paid) in Santa Monica while FCB decided what they wanted to do with the Taco Bell group. Although the group knew way before they did exactly what they were going to do.

When they let us all go, I walked away with a check for six months salary. I also left with a lot of new friends I made there. Every time I see or talk to any of them - I'm looking at you Savoy and Martin - I'm grateful for the experience all over again.

Ironically the day I got my severance check I also got my FCB business cards and letterhead.

Guess which one I still have?