Both sides now

When you work in the insurance business, you don't get to have an opinion about whether the claim form is filled out correctly - it either is or it isn't. If you're fixing cars, no one's looking for an opinion about the intricacies and meaning of the repair - it's either fixed or it's not. In the case of the Saab 900 I used to own, it was not. Whole other story.

In advertising, the lines are more blurred when it comes to the work. There's room for opinions. And, as anyone on the creative side of the business will tell you, everyone has one.

One of the unspoken agreements when you work at an agency is the expectation you're going to be a company man, an advocate of the work regardless of its merits, good or bad, subtle or crass, exploitative or not. And if you're a stakeholder in the work - a writer, art director or producer - the agreement isn't that unspoken. Of course you're going to defend your work.

Here's the thing though. If you're going to work in this business, you have to put on your big boy pants and realize that there are going to be lots of opinions about the work, and they're not all going to agree with yours.

Case in point: the recent McDonald's "Signs" commercial. I already told you what I think of it here. Over 20 years ago I worked on McDonald's, but their advertising has changed several times over the years. And the fact that I got paid to work on it a very long time ago didn't buy them a promise I'd love everything they do forever and ever.

No one sets out to do a crass, exploitative, manipulative, cynical spot on purpose. At least I hope they don't. But even if you're a stakeholder, you have to realize the world is not having their checks signed by the same people you are. There'll be different opinions.

It's the price of admission to work in this business.

So it really comes down to two choices. You can let opinions that don't agree with yours roll off your back.

Or you can gear up and spend a lot of energy fighting each and every one like they're a kitchen grease fire that needs to be put out.

Which would be a complete waste of time. Not unlike that McDonald's spot.

I'm hatin' it

There really are so few things that offend me in advertising. In fact, for the most part, I usually feel the same way about it that I do about free speech and comedy material - everything's fair game.

But even though they're sometimes hard to see, the lines are there. And McDonald's, in my opinion, has crossed one with this commercial.

I recognize the neighborhood McDonald's is just that: a member of the community, and a business that wants to support it. And to that end, I think there's nothing wrong with posting messages on their reader boards about what's going on in their town, their state or the world.

But when they make a manipulative (Carry On as the soundtrack? Subtle.), crass commercial exploiting genuine tragedy in the world, it's offensive. How many minutes away are we from the spot with the Je susis Charlie sign?

It might get a pass if it were genuinely in service of the greater good. But, let's not kid ourselves or let them kid us. They're doing it to sell their cereal-filled, heart-attack inducing, greasy little burgers.

McDonald's, with it's menu of over a hundred items and rapidly declining sales, lost it's way a long time ago.

Too bad they don't have an agency that can help them find their way back.

Unemployment line

A friend of mine, who's an excellent writer, and I believe from my experiences with him a decent individual, put up a post about someone he didn't know who'd tried to contact him on LinkedIn. Universal experience. Happens to all of us.

Whoever it was that hit my friend up for a connection listed his job as Independent Marketing & Advertising Professional, which, as we all know, is LinkedIn code for unemployed. My friend replied maybe the guy wasn't that good at advertising if he couldn't think of a better way to say it.

Now, I totally recognize my friend was just being funny. And don't get me wrong. I like a harsh, sharp, snarky line as much as the next guy. God knows I've written my share of them. But this time, it just struck me wrong.

Not wrong, hurtful. I felt bad for the guy.

I've said it many times before - if you're in advertising and you're unemployed, all it means is you showed up one day. Obviously the guy was unemployed. We've all been. And I was startled that my friend, who knows what it's like to be unemployed, came off as harsh as he did in his comment.

The point of LinkedIn isn't to announce you're unemployed - it's to make yourself look as good as possible to potential employers and digitally network as much as possible. Two things it seems to me this guy was trying to do. (Just to be clear, I wouldn't link with someone I don't know either - but I wouldn't blame 'em for trying).

We're all in the advertising foxhole together, and anyone in the business will tell you things ain't what they used to be. And they're not going to be again. Me, my friend and the guy on LinkedIn are all just trying to do our best.

Every once in awhile, contrary to how it may appear, I believe a little slack-cutting is in order.

I can't wait to see how it ends

Advertising has never been shy about being behind the bandwagon, then jumping on it and saying they've been steering it the whole time. It's also a business that's never met a buzzword it didn't like.

If you've been on any agency website recently, usually in the About section, you've probably noticed the unholy alliance of bandwagon with the buzzword du jour: Storytellers.

Apparently agency creative departments aren't staffed with copywriters and art directors anymore. Instead, they've been replaced by storytellers.

I get it. It's a romantic notion, and it plays well in pitches where the client is told how the "story" of their brand will be conveyed to the waiting masses. Like many other things in advertising, it's hyperbole.

It's the janitor calling himself a sanitation engineer.

I can't exactly tell you why this trend pisses me off so much. Maybe because it's so blatantly untrue. Or the image it conjures up is of someone who's facile with exaggeration, able to spin a yarn or an impossible - and unbelievable - tale out of thin air.

And if there's anything advertising needs to be more of, it's unbelievable.

Storytellers, the really good ones, are skilled at the practiced art of spinning straw into gold. But when the story's over, compelling though it may be, you're still left with straw.

Storytellers, brand stewards, marketing gurus (yes that was on one of the sites), dynamic social directives officers. Whatever. It all sounds false and a little desperate to me.

As for the agencies who insist on calling themselves that, I believe their future can be summed up in two words found in every story.

Goodbye Taylor

I come down hard on advertising in a lot of these posts, and for the most part advertising deserves it. But without a doubt one of the best things about being in this business is the people you get to work with.

To my great joy and surprise, I got to work with Taylor Negron early on.

I'd known who Taylor was for a long time. I had a lot of friends who were stand ups, and I spent a lot of years hanging out at the Improv on Melrose and the legendary Comedy Store on Sunset Blvd. My good friend Ned was even the MC at the store for awhile.

I'd seen Taylor perform many, many times. He was offbeat, unique and had a timing and sensibility all his own. It was his uniqueness that made him so compelling. Even though he may not have been well known in the mainstream, he was a comedian that other comedians admired.

Years ago, I wanted Taylor for a Church's Fried Chicken commercial I did, and was shocked when he came in and read for it. Which of course he didn't have to - the part was his, and I was prepared to fall on my sword with the client, the director, my creative director, the account people or anyone who said it wasn't.

Fortunately, everyone saw his remarkable talent and what he brought to the table. It was hard not to.

I'd like to say we became great pals after that, but we didn't. I did however continue to follow him, and was always excited when he came onscreen in the various movie roles he had like Fast Times At Ridgemont High and The Last Boy Scout, where he was a wicked blond-haired villain long before Javier Bardem ever thought about bleaching his hair for the Bond film.

In one of those ooo-weeee-oooo moments, I was thinking about Taylor just the other day, wondering why I hadn't seen him in anything in awhile. I didn't know he was fighting cancer, apparently for some time. And I'm heartbroken he lost the fight.

Anyway, thank you Taylor for your talent, for making me laugh, and for making my work far better than it would've been without you. I feel blessed to have been one of the lucky ones.

Rest in peace.

Define writer

Seems simple enough. A writer is a person who writes. Just like a drummer is someone who drums. So if you're drumming on your table at Starbucks, waiting for your venti half-caf with an extra shot of cream, does that make you a drummer? No, no it doesn't.

I take a lot of heat from my friends, who I call "real writers" because they are, about the fact I don't post to this blog with any kind of regularity. Clearly they've forgotten that I hold the well-earned title for the least disciplined writer they know. If it's any consolation, and I'm not sure why it should be, it's not the only thing I do without any regularity.

Saving money, buying new clothes, changing the oil in my car, good parenting. It's a long list.

At least when I do manage to have a thought rattling around and write about it, I usually have something to say. Usually being the operative word.

Anyway, I'd like to wrap up this post with some clever, snappy line. But to do that, I'd have to think about it more, and that might jeopardize my least disciplined writer status.

What I might do is take a second to go back over this post and see if there's anything I want to revise.

As I look at it, I think a good place to start would be the part about how I usually have something to say.

State of the reunion

For as much of a social butterfly I like to think I am - and don't get me wrong, I can light up a room - I've somehow managed never to go to any of the reunions at the many agencies I've worked at. Sometimes it was intentional, other times circumstantial. The circumstances were I didn't want to go.

Anyway, a couple Saturdays ago, at the last minute, I noticed an invitation had been sent to me. So for once, I decided to get over myself and make the effort. I'm pleased to report it was well worth it.

For a little over two years, I worked at an agency called DBC in downtown L.A. It was during the time the city was blasting the subway tunnels under 7th Street, and they'd ripped up the asphalt and replaced it with wood planks during construction. One of the owners, Brad Ball, had a great line about it. He said, "L.A. is such a classy city it has hardwood streets." Still cracks me up.

Anyway, I know a few get togethers have happened in the many years since I was there, even one at a park extremely close to my house. But despite my polite refusals in the past, this time I decided to take the dive.

I'm glad I did.

I'd spent so long focusing on a few people there I didn't like - really didn't like - that I neglected to devote any brain space to the ones I actually liked and enjoyed, but had forgotten how much. I was happy to see all the faces there, and genuinely missed many of the ones who weren't able to make it.

As conversation usually goes at these things, we caught up on our current lives, as well as past ones. That's the beauty of reunions: they're moments out of time. Suddenly, you're with a roomful of people who can fill in the blanks about who you were, and what you did way back when (not always a good thing, but always amusing).

So, this is my personal thank you to all my friends who were there and made me feel so damn welcome.

And even though I can already feel my loner, anti-social, too-cool-for-reunion ways creeping back in, before they take over completely let me say I can't wait for the next time we all get together.

For starters, with any luck, I'll be a lot thinner.