• Monday Poll #33: Designers vs. Art Directors

    July 13th, 2009 / Comments (32)

    What do you think is the difference between a designer and an art director and do you think it matters?

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  • What Would You Ask The Architects of Boulder's New Digital School?

    July 1st, 2009 / Comments (16)

    We’ve been presented a unique opportunity to interview the masterminds behind the creation of Boulder Digital Works at CU – the first digital school of its kind in the US. We’ll be gathering a group of digital leaders from Hyper Island (one of the elite digital schools in the world located in Sweden), as well as SoDa (Society of Digital Agencies), with more interviewees to come, to find out what’s unique about the new school, what it promises students, and why it was developed, among other things.

    Our question for you is, what would you like to know about this promising new entity? Here are some more details about what’s to come.

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  • The Rant: Copywriters – AKA Second Class Citizens.

    June 25th, 2009 / Comments (35)

    Volume 31 In A Series By Felix

    I make no apologies for the fact that I’m a writer. It’s not that I can’t do art direction, I just prefer writing. I like the strategy behind it, I like the persuasive power of words and most of my heroes are copywriters, including David Abbott and Neil French. But there is one enormous fucking downfall of being a writer…you aren’t considered all that important for certain aspects of the profession.

    In my first job, I learned about the “Copywriter Not Required” syndrome early on. My art director and I worked night and day on a pitch for an international client. Most of the ideas were mine as it turned out, although it’s really not fair to keep track. Who knows where ideas really come from in a team environment.

    Anyway, we won the pitch and proceeded to draw up concepts for the next stage of production. The client loved it, the photo shoot was approved and we planned a two-week tour of four cities around the world. From Australia to Japan, this was going to be a killer ad campaign and a terrific shoot. Then I got the news…it was felt that as copywriter, I was not required to attend the shoot. “You’re a wordsmith, you don’t need to attend. It’s a waste of money.”

    Forget the fact that the concepts were more mine than the Art Director’s, and forget that I actually comped up all the ads. Nope, because my title said copywriter, I was superfluous to requirements. And so it went on, from my early days as a junior to my current life as a senior writer.

    It seems as though title dictates usefulness, and copywriter means “wordsmith.” There’s no way a copywriter could give good direction to a photographer or DP, right? Well, fuck you all if you think that. Some of the world’s greatest creative directors were copywriters first, and they direct shoots all the time. It takes a good eye and a vision for the project. You don’t need to know how a camera works, you don’t need to have insider knowledge of lighting techniques. You say “this is what I want it to look like, make it happen.”

    What’s even more infuriating is that sometimes, you have to think on your feet at a shoot. The client will butt in and make a change that screws the idea right up the ass. Or something just isn’t working and the whole idea needs to be reconcepted on the fly. That’s when the writer gets a call, because all of a sudden, they’re useful again. I’ve had that call many times, with my AD was sipping on beer and enjoying craft services while I was stuck in the office doing endless rounds of copy revisions and doing the work of two people. I did what I could, but it sure as hell would have been nice to be on set.

    As you all know, photo and video shoots are some of the most enjoyable parts of the process, and also some of the most important. This is where your vision takes shape and gets realized. It’s when meat gets put on the bones and the whole idea is crafted into a living, breathing campaign. To leave one half of the team out of this process is unfair and myopic. Copywriters have earned the right to be at the shoot, and their opinion is just as valid. It hurts even more when half the company turns up on the shoot, from account managers and interns to the sodding PA in some cases.

    This will never change, but it does need to be said. Consider the writer as important as the AD or designer. They deserve to see their ideas go from paper to finished product, and it’s completely disrespectful to dump them out of that process. Rant over.

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  • The Rant: How To Be A Great Client – Part Two (Of Three)

    June 22nd, 2009 / Comments (9)

    Volume 30 In a Series By Felix

    Well, they do say that patience is a virtue. But I’ll be the first to admit, I left the gap a little too wide between the first part of my rant and this next installment. My apologies. However, if I had a really great client, I wouldn’t have had to spend as much time rewriting work and could have got this done a lot sooner.

    Anyway, to recap, here are the first ten topics I covered in the first round (I’m not going to elucidate, just read the article for illumination):

    1. You should be an expert on you
    2. Realize that you hired an agency for a reason
    3. Feedback should not be prescriptive
    4. Too many cooks…
    5. Who’s the boss?
    6. You should be friend, not foe
    7. You get what you pay for
    8. Don’t hire a plumber to fix the wiring
    9. Don’t ask for carbon-copies of other campaigns
    10. Take risks

    Now, let us delve deeper into that idealistic world of the truly great client. If you’re lucky, you’ll do work for a company that has a few of these traits. If they have all of them, allow me to congratulate you on finding a client that’s as rare as a fresh vegetable in a frat house.

    11. You’ll catch way more flies with honey
    Not that I’m calling everyone in advertising a filthy, disease spreading insect (although I can name a few names) but the analogy stands. As a client, it’s within your power to treat the agency and its staff in two distinct ways: first, you can be civil, respectful and a genuine partner; second, you can elect yourself lord of all you survey and treat everyone like the second-class shitballs they really are. Guess what happens when you choose the latter? You get an agency full of people who hate your guts and will do barely enough to keep the account. But, if you treat people like human beings, you’ll be surprised at the amount of late nights and weekends they will willingly work in order to deliver something great. Of course, it takes more than a good attitude, but it goes a long way.

    12. A budget is not something to be kept secret
    I’ve talked to many clients in my time, and on occasion the occasional beer over lunch has loosened the gears enough to allow a few questions to get answered honestly. One that gets the same response again and again is about budget; “Why are you so reluctant to give a realistic number?” I’ve asked. The answer is always in the same ballpark; “Agencies and creatives will always go over budget, so if I lowball I’ll more than likely come in on budget.” Now there are a few people in every agency that will treat the budget as some arbitrary number and do whatever they want, but most good creatives and CDs will use that budget as a solid guideline. If you stipulate $50k for a 250 piece mailing, and you actually have $75k set aside, you are already limiting the scope of where the creative can go. You are handcuffing the ideas with a false budget. So please, take a risk and be honest about your spending plan. If the agency creates an idea that’s way over budget, you are completely within your right to scrap it all and tell them to start again. But maybe, just maybe, the creative teams will come up with something that kills.

    13. Give realistic deadlines
    Here’s something that may shock you. People in agencies have lives outside of the glass and aluminum conference tables. Some even have families. So when you decide to impose impossible deadlines and ask for a project YESTERDAY in order to make yourself look good to your marketing director or CEO, you’re making enemies of everyone within the agency. Do your research, give the account team adequate time to write a brief and give the agency and creative teams a decent timeline in which to deliver the work. Now there will be times when emergencies pop up. Sometimes, you will have to be able to react quickly to current events. But if “sometimes” becomes the norm, you’re not doing yourself or the agency any favors. And yes, some people do work better against a tight deadline…but some people is not the norm either.

    14. Don’t treat the agency like your pet slave
    Way back in my early days as a junior copywriter, I had to do some shitty jobs. One of the most ridiculously shitty was a series of invitations and poems for the 18th birthday party of the daughter of a major client’s CEO. My art director was roped in to do the designs. And as this was an unpaid gig, a favor to kiss some ass, we had to do all of this on our own time. Over the years, from agency to agency, I’ve done my fair share of this “pro bono” work and it sucks. Please, don’t expect everything from your agency because they’re on a retainer. An agency is there to make you more successful as a company, not a father or uncle.

    15. Make yourself available, please
    You’ve sat down with the account team, they’ve taken your questions and you’ve signed off on the creative brief. Good. Now, you can hide for a few weeks and avoid the agency completely until the presentation. Well, that’s how it feels sometimes. Creative agencies are full of those annoying people who constantly question things; why are there three seashells in the toilet in Demolition Man?; was Jamie Foxx ever that funny?; and what did the client mean when he/she said this? If you aren’t around to clarify the final question, the creative team is left hanging, and it could lead to a few holes in the presentation. Or, in the worst case scenario, a complete re-do. So please, don’t leave the country once the brief has been finalized. The creatives will have questions, I guarantee it.

    16. Don’t be a proponent of Seagull Management
    If you haven’t heard that expression before, I guarantee you’ll be using it before the day is out. Seagull Management basically involves flapping around the office, making lots of noise and shitting on all of the work. Agencies have their own small quotient of Seagull Managers, they certainly don’t need you joining in. So for example, in a presentation, try to resist the temptation to start yapping just to be heard, while simultaneously crapping on every idea and belittling everyone involved. Yes, there are usually a few bad ideas, but there are usually some gems as well. Focus on them. But even worse than Seagull Management is the next deadly client sin…

    17. For God’s sake, say something…
    I’m not sure where most of the clients I worked with did their training, but it feels like they all took the same course in presentation etiquette. It goes like this:

    a: Show no emotion
    b: React in no way whatsoever to anything
    c: Do NOT laugh at jokes
    d: Stay silent throughout the presentation
    e: Occasionally look like you are stifling a yawn

    Now, this will happen 99% of the time. But if a major decision maker is in the room, the etiquette changes thus

    a: Suck up to major decision maker
    b: React in the same way as the major decision maker
    c: Laugh at major decision maker’s jokes
    d: Agree 100% with whatever major decision maker says

    This is annoying. This silent approach to creative work is beyond frustrating. Creative teams will pour their heart and soul into some campaigns, choosing to forgo food, drink, sleep and a quick shag in favor of producing some killer work. And while they aren’t expecting you to drop to your knees and praise Jesus for the work, the silence you usually give them is deafening. Have the courtesy to say something. It doesn’t have to be the Gettysburg Address, but try and make it something more meaningful than clearing your throat.

    18. Don’t cheat on an agency
    Look, we’re all adults here. We know that sometimes the relationship will not be all wine and roses, and you may want to look elsewhere. No problem. But have the decency to tell your agency when you do start farming out work to other shops. It’s demoralizing enough to know the work you’ve been doing isn’t up to scratch, but it’s even worse to find out the client had secretly enlisted other agencies to pitch on the account or produce the work. You would expect your agency of record to be open about their client relationships, you should pay them the same courtesy.

    19. You won’t lose any respect for giving props
    Everyone likes to know they’ve done a good job. In this industry, it’s even more important to give credit where it’s due. Remember, most creatives are creatures with fragile egos that need reassurance and an occasional high-five, even if it’s only a verbal one. If your agency has done great work, let them know. If a creative team has done a stellar job, call them out on their good deeds. Maybe go one further and take them to a celebratory lunch. It’s not a sign of weakness to treat great work with great appreciation. In fact, it will only endear you to the people working on your account. A little but of extra sugar will work wonders.

    20. Pay on time
    There’s no long diatribe on this one. No fancy speeches. Pay the fucking bill when you say you will. Sure, some of the bigger agencies can afford to be paid late, but the smaller shops and freelancers depend on your money to pay their bills. They did the work up front, pay the bill on time. If you leave them hanging, you’re an asshole that deserves to contract syphilis.

    The final part of this installment is already underway. Look for it soon. A lot sooner than it took for this one to surface.

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  • Tor-nay-da

    June 17th, 2009 / Comments (4)

    By Copywriter Josh Herrington

    I try, I really do try, to keep abreast of all things happening locally, nationally, and internationally. But sometimes it is difficult. Juggling school, baby, work, baby, beer, baby and sleep doesn’t leave much time for sitting on the micro fiber sectional and watching Brian Williams pour fountains of information down his viewer’s throats.

    News like the Indiana soldier who paid $7 for a 1788 first edition of “The Federalist” and stands to profit $100,000 – or the recent Iranian election of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and the subsequent banning of Facebook, Twitter and other social media outlets by the government in attempts to quell any freedom of speech – or President Obama’s push to overhaul health care in the United States and the fact that it is, as the president stated, “a ticking bomb,” saturates mainstream media.

    Sure, it’s always entertaining to hear about Ashton Kutcher’s millionth Twitter follower, or how Colbie Caillat was found on Myspace, but does that really help us? Does social media actually provide us with worthwhile information that makes us smarter? Is it a beneficial news outlet with any validity?

    Before Sunday afternoon, my response would have been emphatically “No.” Of course, it is fun to voyeuristically leer into the lives of friends long lost and see how fat they are, where they live, and if they have any hair left on their head, but that is not news. That really has no bearing on our immediate lives.

    But, as I stood in the kitchen of our local sandwich shop with 15 strangers and hail was exploding on the glass panes outside like popcorn kernels in a hot tin pan, I became a believer of social media and its instantaneous and educated reach. This social media stuff – and all the technology that goes with it, is pretty amazing and, as I now believe, can be very beneficial.

    Water was seeping in through the aluminum door frame onto the concrete floor and saturating the black rug as I looked around and saw every person in the deli kitchen punching buttons on their cell phones. The sky was dark outside and thick clouds rotated like geriatrics practicing Tai Chi in the park. My iPhone vibrated in my pocket and I heard the familiar ding of a text message being received.

    “R U in your fraidy hole? There’s a twister!”

    Are you kidding? This is the third day that we have had, as my dad from Oklahoma says, a tor-nay-da within five miles of my house. The first two, both of which I was home for, I had no idea they existed – let alone they were 20 blocks from my house. Just a little FYI, Pandora fails to mention when there is a ginourmous twister in your neck of the woods and, before you judge, I had a 12 page paper due that weekend.

    I kept reading and saw, “to reply to this message, follow the link below:” That link led me to Facebook.

    So, I pushed the black round button with the white square on it and it returned me to my home menu on my phone. I swept my finger to the left and found the little blue application with the white, lowercase f on it on the next screen. One quick punch and I was on my wall looking at posts from all of my friends. I saw the top of a picture with some eerily familiar clouds and tapped on it once. The 3G wheel spun for a few seconds and up popped a picture of a large, over-inflated cloud with a tail forming from underneath and reaching towards the ground.

    From my vantage point, inside the deli, I couldn’t see the funnel developing from the wall of the cloud and stretching itself to the ground. From my Facebook wall, though, I could see pictures of why we were all crammed into this small hallway and kitchen.

    I looked at my wife and, in her hand, she was holding her iPhone and was streaming live radar of the tor-nay-da just outside the shimmering windows. Colors of blue, yellow, red and green lit up the touch screen like the Griswold’s front yard. She played hide and seek with it from our 9 month old son as she updated everyone in the hallway on how fast the wind speed was and the direction of travel.

    We all stood in the back of the deli, staring at our phones, as Mother Nature marched eastward. The windows had stopped shuttering, the rain had slowed, the hail had disappeared and the security guards had calmed down and were panting in the corner into their Motorola walkie-talkies. The storm had passed.

    We were all allowed back into the dining area and our five minutes of disaster camaraderie dissipated. I grabbed our cups, fought to stand in line to refill our beverages, and we continued eating our sandwiches. My wife wondered aloud if there really was a tor-nay-da and I pulled out my phone…and showed her.

    Josh Herrington is now an MBA student at Regis University hoping to rekindle his dreams of becoming a professional freelance writer. He lives in Denver with his beautiful, redheaded wife, a nine-month-old son who enjoys life way too much to be bothered by sleep, and a retired seeing-eye dog with cataracts. Contact him at 303.881.7872.

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  • Mmm, Cheesy…

    June 10th, 2009 / Comments (3)

    By Copywriter Marissa Ferrari

    (File under “Still More Fawning Over CPB”)

    Last night, my husband informed me that I am a sucker for advertising. Actually, the specific phrase he used replaced “sucker” with another choice word, but it’s probably not wise to repeat that here.

    He said this because for the third consecutive evening, we were both in front of the television when the new(ish) Burger King Cheesy Tots ad aired. And for the third night in a row, I said, “Mmm, cheesy” out loud in what I’m sure was an unnaturally low, creepily bordering-on-sexual voice. He also pointed out that I experienced a uniquely uncomfortable combination of severe stomach cramps and uncontrollable carb-bomb energy after inhaling a Bread Bowl Pasta from Domino’s. And still went back a week later for a second helping, after viewing several of the product’s cheery talking-bowl spots.

    I argued that I was genuinely interested in Cheesy Tots, which the ads simply brought to my attention. For real, who wouldn’t love deep-fried potatoes injected with a healthy dose of Velveeta? Delicious! My position was validated as I rolled through the BK drive-thru this morning (for the first time in years, mind you) and bit into undeniably tasty hunks of crispy potatoes and melty cheese.

    What I probably won’t admit to my husband (pretty sure he doesn’t read this blog) is that I am a sucker for advertising. Good advertising. And what makes both of these campaigns – indeed, many CPB-driven campaigns – work for me is the suggestion of personality. Sure, both include lovely product shots sprinkled with features and benefits, but the real story is told by characters. A schlubby guy hastily pulling on yesterday’s jeans while attempting to placate a rejected bed, and a neurotic ceramic bowl wringing its metaphorical hands over being replaced by doughier brethren. Very relatable, very memorable and, therefore, very effective.

    But for me, the value of a campaign that’s funny or smart or left-of-center extends beyond its memorability. The personality of these spots reflects the thinking of those driving the brand and product. The fine gents and ladies in charge of these product roll-outs undoubtedly considered a broad range of concepts when planning their marketing communications. The fact that they chose so well suggests to me I might also like the decisions made in the course of developing the products themselves. In my consumer’s struggle to differentiate between the tasty, tame and toxic, these clues are very helpful. Making these campaigns very successful.

    Marissa Ferrari has not been paid to endorse Burger King, Domino’s or Crispin Porter + Bogusky. She would, of course, consider any offer to do so. Contact her at marissa.ferrari[at]yahoo.com.

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  • The Short, Imagined Monologue of a Jewish Copywriter ‘Writing to Layout’ In InDesign.

    June 8th, 2009 / Comments (27)

    By Copywriter Jordan Sher

    Hello, InDesign. Let’s be clear here. I don’t like you. And I know you don’t like me. The most successful copywriters who have ever used InDesign can barely right-justify correctly. Or is it left-justify? Frankly, you’re merely a symbol for all the technological goobledeegook that makes it hard for a writer to make a buck nowadays. That’s it. Just a symbol. Don’t ask me which symbol because I don’t know the hot-key for it.

    Let’s see now. I’ve got two lines on this burger poster to fill. How about ‘Don’t have a tonguasm. Have two.’ Hmm. Looks thin. Where’s that kerning button? There we go. That’s gold. Inspiring. Like Tom Skerritt’s speech to the recruits in Top Gun.

    What? Slow down now. You’re saying the letters are too spread out? That’s ‘kerning’? I dunno. I like it. Makes you read t o n g u a s m nice and slow. Like you oughta.

    OK. Apple-Z. What if I move the text around a little bit? Maybe I’ll slide it around. Just act like it fits. Who’s to say, really? Just don’t poo on that line. It’s gold.

    Yes. Yes. That looks good. I think it’s got ‘balance.’ Good ‘shape’ to it. Now I’ll just move it with the arrow tool and…..wait. It’s not moving. The text box is changing shape but nothing is moving. What in the name of David Lubars is going on here?

    What kind of Nazi wildebeest invented this godforsaken program?

    Apple-Z.

    Make the type bigger? Oh God, that’s no good. Put it above the photo? Nope. How about trying Helvetica? Where’s the stupid left-justification button? Online help? WHERE IS ONLINE HELP?

    Is it lunch yet?

    Jordan Sher is a Jewish copywriter who thanks the lord that blog layouts are taking over. Check out his book.

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  • The Rant: Who Can You Trust?

    June 2nd, 2009 / Comments (12)

    Volume 29 In a Series By Felix

    I’m still compiling part two of my “great client” article, but it’s been too long since I aired a grievance here on The Denver Egotist. And today, I am presenting you a question that I’ve been asking myself over the last few weeks – who can you trust?

    This pertains to your working life, of course, I really don’t want to know the details about questionable members of your family or CIA wiretapping. But when it comes to your place of work (or your temporary place of work, freelancers), who around you do you think is rock-solid?

    If you’re in a cubicle farm, pop your head up like a Prairie Dog and take a long look around. If you’re in an office, take a stroll. Eye up your co-workers.

    You’ve got a few good buddies, right? Sure, there are some oddballs, a few people you pass in the hall and rarely talk to, and people you downright despise. But those few you can really count on, well, they’re gold. So, count ‘em up. How many people can you trust? Here’s the answer…none of them. The only person you can count on is, well, you.

    If you’re a fresh-faced graduate or intern, no amount of my preaching will get this to sink in; this is something you’ll need to experience for yourself. If you’ve been in this game as long as I have (or God help you, even longer) you’ll already know this, but will most likely be nodding along as you read.

    I first found out about the cutthroat world of advertising the hard way, as a junior in my first job. My AD and I were working on a major car account and the account director was as friendly and good-natured as they come. A few people had warned us about “Graham” but we couldn’t work out what the fuss was about. He was a genuinely nice guy.

    The work we did on the account was always well received, and Graham congratulated us in every meeting. Then, a few weeks later, we were called into our Creative Director’s office and he presented us with the list of complaints and out-and-out lies that Graham had given him. We were shocked. He must have made a mistake.

    But no, it was nice Graham. It turned out he had briefed us incorrectly on the job, and decided to reverse-engineer the whole mess on us. As we were juniors, no one would doubt that we were in the wrong. We got our asses kicked around the office and we were taken off the account. A few weeks later, we passed Graham in the hall and he told us he had nothing to do with it, and he was really sorry to see us leave the account. Prick.

    Now, OK, I hear some of you already saying that it’s natural to have some doubt about account managers and marketing peeps. But what about fellow creatives? That’s where things get a little different…in no way whatsoever.

    Your creative co-workers will fuck you over any chance they get if it means they get something good out of it. Case in point; a few years later my AD and I were set to work on a killer account. It was the kind of account everyone drools over when they see it on the traffic sheet. We talked to our CD and asked to be considered for it. He said he already had us in mind, so we naturally went to a bar to down a few celebratory drinks. The team we were best friends with at the time congratulated us and told us we’d do a great job.

    A week later, the job got handed to our teammates. They’d been working over the weekend to do spec work on that account and gave a full presentation to the CD the day before we were due to get it. He loved their enthusiasm and handed it to them. We were floored. They just looked at us and said “that’s the ad game guys.”

    Make no mistake about it; in the environment in which you have placed yourself, that of marketing and advertising, you are swimming with sharks on a daily basis. And in this economy, when jobs are scarce and bankruptcies are at an all-time high, the game is being played harder than ever.

    People who laugh with you and buy you drinks at lunch will be in closed door meetings with the boss stealing your account, your promotion, hell, they’ll even have a crack at getting your ass fired if you’re a threat to their career and their salary. And they’ll smile the whole time they do it. They may even wonder why you’re so pissed at them when you find out, with a shrug of the shoulders and a casual “what, what did I do, what’s wrong with your face?” as they celebrate their victory over you – the schmuck of the century. There’s a terrific quote from an awesome movie, Goodfellas, that sums up this mentality…

    “If you’re part of a crew, nobody ever tells you that they’re going to kill you, doesn’t happen that way. There weren’t any arguments or curses like in the movies. See, your murderers come with smiles, they come as your friends, the people who’ve cared for you all of your life. And they always seem to come at a time that you’re at your weakest and most in need of their help.” – Henry Hill

    OK, so you ain’t gonna get whacked, but the principal is the same. This is cloak and dagger territory, my friends. You either learn it now and keep your guard up, or become another “goodfella” who finishes last.

    Now by all means, make friends. Have buddies. Play golf with them. But don’t ever think, for one second, that you can trust them. Any of them. Ever. When it comes down to it, they’re all looking out for number one…and if you’re not, you’ll be flushed down the crapper as number two.

    Before I get back to watching my own…umm…back, I’d like to throw the question out there to you; how were you screwed over by people who you thought you could trust? What surprising and nasty shit took you completely by surprise, and what was the fallout? Better yet, did you get your own back, and if so, how?

    The best answer will get the latest Denver Egotist T-Shirt – a target on your back to remind you never to forget the world in which you work:

    But don’t leave anything to chance, put your hand into your deep pocket and buy one for $14.50 (or more if you change the t-shirt stock). All the proceeds will go towards the next evolution of TheDenverEgotist.com. You can order straight from Zazzle right here. Just pick your size and t-shirt style, and you’re good to go.

    I’ll leave you with a quote that’s been passed down through the centuries, and is always good advice; “Do it to them before they do it you.”

    Watch your backs, people.

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  • What Are You Doing?

    May 26th, 2009 / Comments (14)

    By Copywriter Josh Herrington

    I missed the Adult Swim event because; well, frankly, because Thursday night is my nine month old’s bath night. And he loves bath night. The Techstars community party in Boulder sold out, which took me by surprise – that must be one awesome event? And, on the weekends, I transform myself into Super-suburban-man and weed the yard, wash the cars, walk the dog and vacuum the house.

    But, this twitter thing still has me hooked. You mean to tell me that people are interested in how stinky my son’s poopie diaper was? (I said poopie.) Or, how many beers I drank while watching the Thuggets miss the free throws that could have kept them in the game? Well Denver, don’t be forlorn, because I have come up with a solution – my drive to work.

    It’s Wednesday morning, traffic is thick, and my tweet hand is strong. But, being the responsible driver that I am, I have to save all my tweets for when I’m not driving so I don’t crash into the uninsured asshole in front of me. So, here are my tweets. Follow me on this adventure.

    “It is seven in the morning, off to work I go.

    Man, my yard sure does look good. Who let their dog poop on my grass?

    I put too much creamer in my Dunkin Donuts coffee.

    Red light. Red light. Red light. Was that last light red or yellow?

    I-25 on ramp, are you kidding me? 140 blocks and 16 miles of this?

    NPR or iPod? NPR.

    I’m going to be late again. Thanks RTD for no train up north.

    I’ve got both hands on the wheel so I’m too busy to tweet.

    Does a hyphen count towards my 140 characters?

    My blinker is on, let me in.

    You drive a Mercury Villager and have a huge comb over not covering that bald spot.

    Looser!

    Five miles an hour. Zero miles an hour. Five miles an hour. Stop.

    What are you looking at?

    I’ve never heard sports on “Morning Edition”? Good thing the Thuggets practice their free-throws.

    California must be really screwed up. That’s what happens when you elect Conan the Barbarian as your governor.

    William Shakespeare was gay?

    Let me over.

    Are you kidding me? You couldn’t have moved your stalled car to the shoulder?

    Let me over you jerk, off the phone! (get it?)

    Don’t tailgate, don’t tailgate, don’t tailgate, be nice.

    Another stalled car? Awesome.

    I see Coors field. Oh, wait, I can’t see Coors field because of the two dump trucks in front of me.

    “Not responsible for cracked windshields.” I’m not the one hauling around a truck full of pebbles. Yes, you are responsible.

    Off my ass, Chevy Silverado. You must have a really small…

    You’re a bow hunter, aren’t you?

    Watch out for cops, they hide on Wewatta and will bust ya!

    People still ride bikes with three wheels?

    Is that man wearing ballerina shoes?

    Why does RTD drive ON the white line? What is an Arc-flash hazard and how does that affect me? Is that why they drive on the white line?

    Left on Speer, there is the Pepsi Center. Poor Carmelo.

    WWE of Thuggets? Who will it be?

    What, 40 miles per hour?

    Does that woman really own four dogs? Is she going to wear that to work? She must work nights.

    High heels, lots of makeup, tight tee shirt – must be nearing the community college.

    There are those two weird aliens dancing in the yard.

    Umm, Denver Diner. Eww, vomit on sidewalk near Denver Diner.

    I’m out of coffee.

    What color is that Mercedes SUV? Gold, orange, purple? The paint keeps changing colors.

    Are the Thuggets already back in town?

    Oh, just passing the Parkway Apartments, that’s why.

    What’s the speed limit? Isn’t it 40 miles per hour? Why are you going 20?

    That hobo is packing up his tent from the night. I’m kind of jealous, kind of.

    Zombie crossing the street, smoking a cigarette and wearing slippers. Must be close to work.

    In the parking garage, which, I think, is a microcosm of workplace social status.

    First floor. Sweet motorcycle. Van, van, wagon, van – all with handicapped stickers.

    Second floor. Mercedes, Volvo, Audi, Land Rover. Must be the executives.

    Third floor. Mercedes (five years old), Volvo (six years old), Audi, (three years old).

    Fourth floor. Jeep, Nissan, Toyota, Chevy, Subaru. All very sensible and economical.

    Fifth floor. Nothing. Except that Porsche sitting alone way back in the corner.

    I’m here. Another day, another buck-fifty.

    Is it time to go home yet?”

    Josh Herrington is now an MBA student at Regis University hoping to rekindle his dreams of becoming a professional freelance writer. He lives in Denver with his beautiful, redheaded wife, a nine-month-old son who enjoys life way too much to be bothered by sleep, and a retired seeing-eye dog with cataracts. Contact him at 303.881.7872.

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  • The Short, Imagined Monologue of a Jewish Copywriter Who is Watching Plans Hatch for an Inter-agency Soccer League.

    May 18th, 2009 / Comments (6)

    By Copywriter Jordan Sher

    Please let’s just talk about this today and be done with it. Please, let’s all be too busy.

    Please, dear God, let an RFP drop on someone’s desk this afternoon.

    Please don’t ask me to join.

    I do not play soccer. I do not own shin-guards. I write. That’s what I chose to do after I realized that I can’t fake my way through 8 years of pharmacy school like my mother asked me to.

    Could we have a book club? Occasionally I read affected writers. Or how about a nice lunch club? I like a good pastrami.

    Why is everyone getting so excited about this? Does someone here think they are a bad-ass? What is a soccer bad-ass anyway? Probably the same person who will want to play forward.

    There is a ‘forward’ in soccer, right? Thank god for Wikipedia.

    I bet the production artists will be all over this. They’re usually the most aggro from kerning all day.

    Please don’t talk about me in the same sentence as ‘goalie.’ I will not get in the way of the ball. Although it’s the amount of running I’m comfortable with.

    Maybe the dues will be prohibitive. Hmmm. Note to self—find a way to work in ‘prohibitive’ to next job.

    Do I own tennis shoes? Are they called ‘tennis shoes’ still?

    Oh God. Let’s not challenge Cultivator. I hear those guys are good.

    Jordan Sher is a Jewish copywriter with a distaste for showing off his physical prowess in the workplace. Call it a survival mechanism. Check out his site for a view of his work.

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