A Chosen Family

I had a very nice dinner last night, the host a friend I have not seen in several years.  One house, four jobs and two kids ago to be exact.  He and his lovely wife are building their chosen family.

We know each other from my last ad job before law school.  Our creative director was easily the worst CD I have ever worked for.  And as I roughly count now, that's a grand total of about 20 CDs.

Although I should be, I am not ashamed to say I hated that man with the heat of a thousand suns.

He took all credit and no blame.  Only worked on the choice assignments, all the dreck to the rest of the team.  Micro-managed.  Did not understand the difference between art direction and design.  Every piece of golden creative he touched turned to lead.  His monumental lack of talent, arrogance, and appalling treatment of others drained any final love I had for my chosen profession.

We discussed him briefly last night at dinner, mainly to reaffirm that Yes, he was indeed a toad.

A poisonous, poisonous toad.

However.  Had it not been for that soul-sucking job, I would not have many of the wonderful friends I have today - namely Burns, Autumn, Jeannine (Everyone's Favorite Lesbian), Tim, Mister Rick... and in turn the friends I have made through those good folks, like Heather.

So I am grateful for that job, because it helped me build my chosen family too.

Joys of a Creative

Back in my advertising life, I'd go back and forth between:

1.  You produce a string of good work - not brilliant, but presentable - then maybe you actually get something strong and conceptual produced.

Right about then - The Hack Police come.

They bust into your office and announce, "Elle, we are sorry to inform you, you're a Hack.  Come with us please."

"But - wait!  That last spot for Mazda wasn't that bad!"

"Ma'am, we've been watching your work for some time.  We're sorry for your loss."

And your career is over.



2.  You're on a roll.  You're winning every creative shoot out you're assigned to, you are flying to cool places to work with awesome directors.

You go to the award show in New York to pick up the statue, people slip you their cards.  Maybe you'll get to go to Cannes.

You are heady with success, you drink too much champagne and then - you wake up around 4am, and your mind says, "Hope you enjoyed that awesome night - because you are NEVER HAVING ANOTHER DECENT IDEA EVER AGAIN, EVER."

And your career is over.

Have Some Music

Stevie Ray on Austin City Limits. Just LISTEN to that screaming guitar, he was brilliant ....
Breaks my heart if I think about too much - he finally found the strength to clean up, and his life was taken.

What a waste.

PS this is displaying weirdly - anyone know what I did wrong?