Daughter's choice

Tonight, I decided to let my beautiful, smart, funny and giving daughter choose the subject of this evenings' post.

Shockingly, she said it should be about her. Specifically, her unbelievable and unrelenting work ethic. A deal's a deal so here we go.

In the past few weeks, I've wondered just who's daughter she actually is. She's been sequestered in her room, night after night, studying history, english, biology, geometry, Spanish, bible (Christian school, hello?) with friends on FaceTime.

It's not that she was lagging behind. Some of the subjects she already had an A in, and some a B+. But settling just isn't part of her DNA from either side of the family.

So she's worked relentlessly this semester to bring all her grades up to an A or A+ (which by the way she's doing with well-deserved success).

It's the part about working relentlessly that makes me think we're not really related. As you know by now, my idea of working relentlessly is watching all three seasons of House Of Cards in one sitting. I know what you're saying, but if you think it's so easy let's see you do it smart guy. Here's a tip: take your bathroom breaks during the credits.

Anyway, all this is to say I'm beyond proud of my girl for developing a work ethic that'll serve her well in life, and propel her on to make her mark on the world in a spectacular way.

Which she'll need to do to take care of me. Cause watching all this TV isn''t getting me anywhere.

Good grief

This is what I get for trying to do the right thing.

I have a Peanuts cartoon I've had since I was a kid. Somehow, even way back then, I must've been peeking through a keyhole to the future and known I was going to wind up in advertising, because the cartoon is the perfect metaphor for the business.

I wanted to use it in this post, but I figured since it was Peanuts, instead of just barging forward and possibly infringing the copyright of a multi-billion dollar, global cartoon conglomerate, not to mention pissing off Snoopy, I should probably get their permission.

Can you guess how this story ends?

I went on the interwebs and found who I needed to contact to get the rights to post the cartoon. Here's the email I sent them:

To Whom It May Concern:

I write a blog called Rotation and Balance (rotationandbalance.blogspot.com). It covers a wide range of topics, but, since I'm a creative director and copywriter, quite often deals with the advertising industry.

I've saved the attached cartoon for many years from one of my childhood Peanuts books. I'd like to post it on my blog under the title This Is What Advertising Is Like.

The blog is not monetized, and I do not make anything from it. I post links to it on my Facebook page which is only read by friends, and my Twitter feed which isn’t read by nearly as many people as I’d like.

Anyway, I wanted to know if I could have your permission – attributed of course – to use the attached cartoon for the blog. Please let me know.

Thank you so much for the consideration.

Friendly, right? I asked nicely. I was respectful, I let them know I'd been a fan since childhood and that the Peanuts books were treasured items in my house. I said please and thank you. But after reading their reply, I feel like someone pulled the football away just as I was going to kick it. Here it is:

Dear Jeff,

Thank you for your email.

Unfortunately, due to legal restrictions, we cannot grant permission for your request below. We’re sorry to disappoint.

We greatly appreciate your interest in PEANUTS and wish you the best.

Regards,

The Peanuts Team

The first thing I noticed about their response was it's a form letter. And if you've been following along recently, you know how I feel about form letters.

Anyway, I can't show you the cartoon, but I can describe it to you. So here goes.

In the first frame, Charlie Brown is with Lucy and he's getting ready to fly his kite. Lucy says, "I appreciate your letting me help you Charlie Brown...I like to feel needed." In the next frame she says, "I bet this kite will fly clear up to the clouds." Charlie Brown says, "Well we'll see." Then, Lucy is holding the kite as Charlie Brown starts running and says, "Ok! Let go!" The kite soars into the air, and Lucy, filled with pride, says "You got it up with my help. Will you tell everyone I helped you Charlie Brown? Will you? Will you tell everybody we were a team Charlie Brown? That we worked together? Huh? Will you?"

Suddenly, the kite comes crashing down to the ground, the kite string tangled all over Charlie Brown. Lucy, walking away from him, says, "I don't know you."

This, in a nut shell, is advertising. When something is a success, everyone wants to be a part of it, even if that means they were in the bathroom on the other side of the building when you came up with the idea. But if the campaign tanks, they run for cover and deny any involvement.

It's a keen observation by Charles Schulz, and I imagine it applies to any business lousy with glory hogs, scene stealers and outright liars. Although, besides politics, I think agencies have cornered the market on them.

Anyway, I wish you could see it. It'd be a lot more entertaining than reading about it.

When I think about The Peanuts Team refusing my request, I can't help but be reminded of what Snoopy once said.

"I love mankind. It's people I can't stand."

Where credit's due

Success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan. Nowhere is that truer than in advertising.

When a campaign or an individual spot happens to hit big - locally, regionally and especially nationally - it seems everyone who was in the building, in one meeting, used to work on the business or walked by the conference room while it was being presented is ready to jump on the credit bandwagon.

The industry is lousy with examples of it: VW. Joe Isuzu. Apple. Nike. FedEx. Nissan. The list goes on and on. And on.

In the late 80's, there was a McDonald's campaign called Mac Tonight. It sprang from a local promotion by an operator's group for dinner at McDonald's. It was created by my friend and former art director partner Jim Benedict before we worked together.

Under the agency leadership of Brad Ball and Mark Davis, Jim was given the freedom and support to create a genuinely unique, fun and memorable spot for a client who wasn't particularly known for taking risks. With Jim's vision of a quarter moon leading man, and parody lyrics to Bobby Darin's "Mac The Knife", the spot took off in a way no one saw coming.

Wildly popular, McDonald's picked up the promotion nationally and suddenly it was everywhere.

What happened next was sadly familiar.

The executive creative director at the time (who has since long gone) started giving national press interviews about how he came up with the concept - some bullshit about how he was looking at the moon one night and it just came to him. Jim started getting assigned to other, less visible accounts. And his name was mysteriously absent from both the interviews and award show entries (and the spot won many awards).

To no one's surprise, McDonald's wanted to pool out the character and did in other, lesser spots created by the people who claimed they'd done the original.

To their own credit, the agency leadership was always honorable about rightfully giving the credit to Jim.

But, creatively speaking, low people in high places are a devious mix. If you've worked for one - and eventually we all do - I'm sure you have war stories of your own to tell.

Jim eventually became a creative director at McCann, where he continued to take on the challenge of doing outstandingly creative work for clients that had reputations for being resistant to it (I'm looking at you Nestlé). He died in 1994.

The agency, even in its current incarnation, still displays the spot on its website. And it should. It continues to be a great success story.

For them, and for Jim.