Portfolio Night 2010. One man’s story of the LA contingent.

There were terrible hours the day before departure. One word was incorrect in a comp. As the copywriter I should have noticed it much earlier, and in fact I had, yet I found it to be too silly to go unnoticed by any art director worth their salt. Still, the mistake was purely mine. It came from my original document. Always proof read! Always!

I had the mistake corrected by one of my own contingent. Then I was off to the printer in a feverish frenzy to get my book together before I had to deal with the vicissitudes of life that an Ad Dad has to endure.

On the morning of Portfolio Night I awoke as usual and dressed my kids. I fed them breakfast and even spent some time in blissful cuddling. Then I drove my son to his pre-kindergarten class. He has gone every Thursday since the beginning of the year, but today was his last class. I would have to be back in an hour and a half for his “graduation” ceremony. I took the time in between to go to the bank, and to buy new headphones to enjoy music on my flight to Los Angeles. I wanted to buy new checkered Vans for the occasion since mine were badly worn, but I didn’t have the time. I buy new Vans every year, but I figured I could rely on the idea that my old pair were “vintage” and get a pass on that.

I picked up my wife and we headed to the graduation. My son decided to not cooperate during the ceremony. In fact he had his hands stuffed deeply in his pants the entire time. I decided to not be unduly embarrassed. At the end of it we all went to a small concert given by a children’s performer. Then we raced home so I could make my final preparations for my flight to LA.

The flight went well. I saw many mountains and other interesting geological features from above. When we landed I turned on my phone and found out from a message that I had left my sons diploma at the school. I felt like a complete ass.

I left the airport with my bag strapped to my shoulder. I never check luggage. I walked outside and asked the first person I saw with and official badge which way Sepulveda Boulevard was. I should have printed a map. Or I should have taken a cab, but I thought I could get to the ad agency by walking. It was close. Real close. But my mistake was applying logic. I assumed Supulveda North would be north of Sepulveda regular. A fifteen minute walk and much questioning left me with a different answer. So then I backtracked and found myself growing increasingly late for the event which brought me to LA in the first place. I walked back to where I had been and then even farther. Suddenly I was confronted with a tunnel. A traffic tunnel. A car tunnel. An evil tunnel. I looked for a way around the tunnel but I was fenced in. I was late enough already and with growing anxiety I decided I couldn’t back track another mile. I KNEW my destination was at the end of that tunnel so I decided to go through even though there were clearly marked signs telling me not to.

I walked through that long tunnel with cars and trucks whizzing by. It was not fun. Halfway through it was made worse by the realization that my right arm was covered in a thick black soot. I trudged on. I prayed I would not be stopped by cops, or worse, flattened by an errant vehicle. If I was stopped by authorities I was prepared to play the “aw shucks” yokel card, and get a ride to my destination anyway. Eventually I made it out, and there was the building I needed. I walked inside and I could see people milling about the guard desk. I was too embarrassed in my black arm sooty stage to go forward, so I went toward a restroom. It was locked. Damn! I then proceeded to try to wash off my blackened arm in the drinking fountain. I made an insane mess on the floor. But thankfully I was not seen. I called my friend and was able to take my bags to his car. Then I checked in to the event and was finally able to clean myself of sufficiently in a bathroom. From there on the event went quite well.

The host agency was David and Goliath. They did the KIA ads with the hamsters. I have actually made fun of those ads before, still it was fun to poke around the place and see areas where the creatives do their work. I saw marker comps on the walls, and those primitive drawings reminded me of some of the work I have seen in ad school. It gave me hope for my future. It shows you can take pretty simple ideas and eventually have them produced into effective advertising.

The creative directors who looked at my portfolio had good things to say, and they had lots of constructive criticism. It was worth the trip for that alone. I also met with many young creatives (most way younger than I) like myself and shared stories. It’s fun to look at the work other people are producing, and it gives one an idea about the competition.

The event was well catered. I ate tons of little pork tacos, and drank more than my share of the open bar. Toward the end of the night I met the woman who ran the catering. She is a British ex-pat about my own age with whom I discussed the awesomeness that is Doctor Who.

That night I left with the other two students from Minneapolis. We drove in the rental car provided by my art directors mother toward the hotel room paid for by his grandfather. It’s good to have connections kids. I heartily thank his family for all they did for us during our stay.

The next morning we awoke early so we could tour some ad agencies and to hopefully have another chance to show our books. One thing I was worried about on coming to LA, was that it was going to be hot. I never know how to present myself in the warmer climes. I’m suited to the chill of the Midwest. My style is largely based around the fact that I will be wearing a cardigan. But to my surprise it was a chilly weekend in LA. I was overjoyed at the sudden realization of cardigan weather. It’s like the gods themselves wanted to make my stay comfortable. I should also mention that while I was there I never saw any poor people. Not really. Maybe some of the busboys were poor, I couldn’t tell because they were in uniform. The host agency was upscale. The hotel we stayed in was a mile from the beach in Santa Monica. The other agencies we visited were in good neighbourhoods. My art directors family lived in the Pacific Palisades. Actually to get from our hotel to their house we had to travel through Brentwood. Brentwood for those of you old enough to remember the 90’s, was the place where that football star murdered those people a while back. Later my trip included dining in the Hollywood Hills and being dropped off in Beverly Hills. You may hear on the news that California is bankrupt, but I never saw any indication of anything other than luxury.

Back to the story. The first agency we visited was Saatchi & Saatchi. In LA their main client is Toyota. One of the art directors I was travelling with had an actual job interview there, and we joined in on the tour of the agency. It was a fun place to visit. Part of the tour took us into a video editing room where I made fast friends with one of the employees over his toys. We talked Star Wars in genuine Nerdese until I was forced to continue the tour. Later we found a bunch of creatives in an alcove watching the original Clash of the Titans. They claimed they were doing “research” and I bet they really were. I thought to myself that this is defiantly the line of work for me. Don’t get me wrong, everybody we met also talked of long hours and the pressure to produce amazing work. Still I felt a kinship with those folks.

The next stop was Chiat Day. This agency was truly amazing. It was huge. They had a basketball court in the middle of the place. This is where the iconic 1984 Apple Ad that aired during the Superbowl was created. There were dogs everywhere. We were then taken to a meeting alcove and given the opportunity to show our books to a resident art director and a copywriter. It was kind of scary but still quite worthwhile. I recently saw a movie called Art and Copy. There were many scenes filmed right there in the same place where I showed my book. It’s the kind of place I would give up my cardigan wearing habits to work at.

Afterwards we went to the Pacific Palisades and visited my friend’s family. His grandparents took us out to eat. Then his uncle and cousin took us to a cool bar near the ocean. It was a great end to a productive day.

The next day I met an old friend of mine. She had moved to LA a couple of years ago to be a screenwriter, and then she won an Oscar. It was great to see her. She is preggers, so we got to talk about kids. We also talked about the latest Star Trek, writing, and the possibilities of my band playing in LA. It was great to see her. She took me to lunch at her club. She was afraid they wouldn’t let her in because she was not in fancy clothes, but rather comfortable pregnant clothes. I looked down at myself and noted my crusty old checkered Vans, my camouflage pants, my Han Solo t-shirt, and my well worn green argyle cardigan. I was worried I didn’t look right either and she laughed and said everyone would probably think I was a producer. I’m not sure where she took me, but it was a rooftop café snuggled within the Hollywood Hills. I would have been happy going to In and Out Burger, but this place was really amazing. The waiter treated me like royalty and I ordered every cocktail recommended. I was far away from my responsibilities so I was very elated to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Then she drove me to Beverly Hills where I was to meet up with the rest of my party. She felt guilty dropping me off half drunk in the middle of LA, but I assured her that Beverly Hills was probably the safest place to drop a half drunk person off. But I made her drop me off near a bar.

At the bar I learned my friends were trapped downtown on a shopping excursion. I drank a beer and decided that I didn’t care to play tourist in Beverly Hills. I asked the bartender how to get to Santa Monica, and she told me there was a bus just outside the bar that would get me there. Then she gave me the exact change for the fare. So within an hour of being in an exclusive club in the Hills with an academy award winner, I found myself on a bus heading towards the Santa Monica pier. The culture shock was palpable. The people on the bus were regular folks, workers, families, tourists on a shoestring, etc. Every ad on the bus seemed to be in Spanish too, which was okay since I can read Spanish. I arrived at Ocean Boulevard and got off the bus. I walked by street performers and headed to the water. The one downside to cardigan weather is that it really isn’t beach weather. I rolled up my pants and waded in the Pacific Ocean. It’s like a ritual pilgrimage of mine. Whenever I am close to an ocean I have to pay tribute. One time I paid that tribute to the Atlantic in Coney Island in November. That was a cold ocean.

That night our group went back to the pier and rode the Ferris Wheel. Then we headed back to the hotel and slept. The next morning we went to my friends grandparents house. His mother made us breakfast and we squeezed fresh orange juice from which we picked oranges off a tree in their backyard. After breakfast we shopped along Venice Beach. I bought a hat for my son that looks like and Indiana Jones hat. Then we were dropped off at the airport. When I arrived in Minneapolis it was hot. Cardigan weather was over and I took a 55 dollar cab ride home.

Being home was the best part of the trip. Travelling is wonderful, but holding my family is even better. I have never been much of an LA guy. It really hasn’t been a place I wanted to visit too badly, but I really had a great time there, and I want to return. Maybe someday I will work there and then I can feel the ocean breeze under the shade of a palm and have my family with me too. One can only dream. Though I would still miss the winter.

Lights, camera, action!

When we were kids, or at least when I was a kid, the family camera was a sacred thing. You were not allowed to touch it. The camera was my moms domain and she kept it on a very high shelf. The idea of even taking 1 simple picture was a laughable offense. "Film costs too much," my mother would say. And that was that. It was made very clear to me at an early age that the camera was not a toy.

When I was ten I decided to buy my own camera. This was considered a weird undertaking for a kid back in 1982. But I just wanted to have the chance to take all the fun and silly pictures I had always dreamed of. I thought my pictures would tell stories and be worthy of praise to the highest degree. I imagined that I would be making movies in still life. I could recreate Star Wars with kodak film and some action figures.

My first roadblock was my parents. They thought I didn't need to spend my paper route money on a frivolous purchase. Why couldn't I save my money like my brother? My brother never spent any money as a kid. If he wanted Van Halen's 1984 he would simply convince me to buy it, then he would reap all the benefits. (there is a lesson there. Hmmm?) Anyway I convinced my parents that $39.99 was a good deal for a camera. It was a disc camera. In the early 80's it was the cool new thing because it was cheap and you didn't need to load the film. Just snap the disc in place and you were ready to go. Wow! Fucking technology!

I proceeded to take all sorts of silly photos. I still have many of them in a special album I made. Before and after shots of me with a BB gun and then me with a bloody ketchup stained forehead. My pictures were never as much fun as I imagined, mainly because I would take them and then I would have to wait to develop them, which cost money. Then of course more film cost more money. I quickly was distracted toward other things. What I really wanted was a polaroid. Instant pictures! If only I could afford it. Sigh.

Years later, in my 20's, I bought a Polaroid and took tons of fun pictures. I took them with the same enthusiasm I had when I was ten, but I could see my great pieces of art instantly. It was amazing! At this point in history disposable cameras were all the rage, so if my wife and I went on vacation we just bought a couple cameras, used them up, and had them developed.

So here we are. In the future. the magical year 2000 is in the past. Now we have digital cameras. You can take as many pictures as you like, and you can see them instantly. It blows my 10 year old mind. So when my 4 year old son asks me if he can take a picture, I hand the camera to him and say, "go nuts." Kirk took a bunch of pictures. Most of them were of his own fingers or the TV. We've come a long way baby.

Mr. Mom

I survived my first full week as a stay at home dad, and I've got to tell you--It's the most awesomest thing ever!! All I do everyday is hang out with my kids. I feed them and watch cartoons, and sometimes we cuddle. It's the greatest. The other day I wanted to take a bath, and my 9 month old daughter just stood at the edge of the tub the entire time smiling at me. I had to keep giving her toys to bang around and drop in my bath, but that's not REAL work. After so much time at work under pressure and under stress and paying the high cost of daycare, I couldn't believe how happy such a simple joy could make me. I would rather be here doing this than anything else right now.

However as an ad student I am still working toward my eventual career. I did find that I don't really have much time to write with these kids bandying about, but I find that I don't care. I can write when their mother gets home. I am as a whole so much better suited to do this than anything I have ever done, however temporary it may be.

This week we brought Christmas into our home. Kirk and I had plenty of fun just setting up and decorating our tree. Then I built him a toy boat out of a tin can, a cork, a pencil, and a twig we found outside. He loves it.

The greatest thing was when I learned I could join the YMCA and get up to two hours of free daycare while I work out. This is good for daddy, and the kids get to socialize with other children. They love Mr. Mom at the Y, and I can have some time to myself to think about advertising ideas while I exercise and relax in a hot tub. The Y is cheap and I get a discount through our health insurance, which is paid for by breadwinner mama Belsum's salary.

I am looking for other daily activities for the kids, and plan to set up playdates with some parents I know. I am also working with Kirk to get him ready for kindergarten by teaching him to read and write, and to count to 100. Everytime he asks for a big boy thing, like being able to play with sharp knives, I tell him he can't until he can learns new things. It's working pretty good so far.

After a fun day of play and naps and learning I get supper ready for when mama comes home. Sometimes the kids help me cook. I take extra care to make sure the house is neat and tidy before she comes home, so when I leave for school she won't have to worry about those things. So far this has been the best job I have ever had, and with the daycare savings, it is far from the lowest paid job I've had.

My next step is to start organizing this house I live in. I have time, and I'm sure the kids will help in between being fed and snuggled. My mother was right, being a stay at home dad really is a full time job, but I never knew how much I would love it.

Cardigan

I know I am old dammit!. I'm reminded every day by consorting with people who can't remember a time before the internet and those who find it funny that I call CD's "records." It's RECORDED music you idiots. It's made worse when I tell my "first time I did something stories" and it was in the year my subject was born. But I am not old. Even the kids who make fun of me don't think of me as old. And I am not young either. I am in that nebulous in-between stage of life. It happens to everyone, but it is never glorified. No matter how old or how young I seem, I will never, ever, not be seen wearing a cardigan.

This bold statement of intent would have been better if I had stated it when I was 20, but when I was 20 there were no blogs to state it on. You'll just have to trust me. I am a cardigan guy. I wore them when they were hip, when they were not hip, and then when they were hip again. (Fuck, I really am old.) Still, I am a life-long cardigan wearer.

...And now I'm struggling to figure out what my intention for this post was.

Oh yeah! Just because I wear a cardigan everyday doesn't mean I'm all old and crusty. Sure in time I will be old and crusty, and be in a cardigan, but that doesn't mean I'm wearing the cardigan because I'm old, but rather because It's part of who I am. It's my brand.

This entire post could be summed up in one line.

Chris Hill digs cardigans.

Establishment

My 8 month old daughter is quite a little menace. We put her to bed and she gets up repeatedly. Nothing seems to work. I fed her a bottle tonight and got her to fall asleep on my arm but as soon as I put her in the crib she was crying again. I decided to try a different tactic. I took her downstairs, where I keep my lazy boy. I let her crawl around the floor as I picked the perfect cassette. I should probably explain that I have a music nook in my basement where I can relax and listen to albums and tapes. It's where all my outdated but still awesome music collection resides. The tape I picked tonight was Establishment, the first band I was ever in. Good music from 1989.

I held my little girl and listened to the music her father made 20 years ago. It was a pretty low-fi affair, made on a 4-track recorder, but there is something about it that I still love. My most recent CD was released less than a month ago. It was recorded in a professional studio, yet I could still see the connection from where I was as an artist then, and where I am now. Basically I am, and have always been, a pretty pretentious and morose musician. Establishment had songs about sadness and suicide. There were definite influences from Joy Division and the Cure, and the drummer was a machine. Mercurial Rage is really the grown up version of Establishment in many ways.

In 1989 I spent about 2 months reading The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. It took that long to read because it is a big book, and well, It takes me awhile to read things. I still read pretty slow. I think I read it slowly because I was trying to impress the chick who lent it to me, and also because it was blowing my mind. The book left an impression on me. I can remember being in study hall quickly doing my analytic geometry homework so I could get back into the world of Howard Roark. I would imagine myself as a detached genius whose true soul comes out only in his creations. It was really a lot of bullshit, but it influenced the content of my music at the time. Establishment is not a good name for a rock band, but to me it spoke of the importance of creation, creativity, and the foundations of art as a necessary function of mankind. One of our songs was called Abysmal Altruist which was basically and homage to Rand's notion of individual freedom being a greater good than social equality. My biggest problem today is I still find myself more akin to Rand's thinking than I do with the prevailing logic prevalent in Obama's America. I often feel like an outsider in politics. I'm not a republican, but I certainly am not a democrat either.

I held my little girl and patted her back. I was happy, at peace, listening to me from 2 decades past, express myself through song. Of course there were other members of Establishment. Guitar god Paul Erickson, and singer Joe Allper from Seattle. I really can't rightly speak of them in this simple bloggity post. They each deserve their own. All I can say is, 20 years later, Establishment is still catchy as fuck pop music. I am proud to have been a part of it.

The little girl started to cry again, so I gave her to her mother. I think I need to go downstairs and finish listening to that wonderful Establishment record.

Transformation

This is a transitional period for my life as well as for my blog. My last post was in April. Jeepers! I haven't written in so long. Far too long. A lot of things have happened since April. I will endeavor to make sense of things forthwith.

The previous title to my blog was "Cascade." I began blogging a year and a half ago during a period of intense creativity. Cascade was the title of the record I was endeavoring to bring into fruition with my band Mercurial Rage. The title Cascade was present throughout the writing and recording process of that record and it seemed a fitting title to my blog as well. During that time I also conceived and witnessed the birth of my daughter Ronnie, quit a job I had held for 7 years, and began attending a school for advertising. There have been many changes in my life, changes that need sorting out. I have spent the past year working on the new record, getting adjusted to my life as a student, and becoming a father for the second time. It has been a weird and wonderful ride, but not immune to the pitfalls of gloom and uncertainty. I have tried to keep a straight face but too much change at once scares me.

I haven't written much in the past year because I have been stretched to my limit with work, family, band, and school. Cascade is now released, and it is awesome. That chapter is completed. I made the record I wanted to make. I want to continue to make music, but for now it can be placed on the back burner of my life. The job I took after leaving the cafe has become too much of an obstruction in my life. The daycare costs, and the time it takes me away from my studies and my children have made it not worth the time or energy I spend there. We are poor now, and will only be the slightest amount poorer if I quit. So quit I did.

I have always wanted to be a stay at home dad. This is the perfect time for it, while my kids are not in school yet. I can spend my days with them and then be able to use my nights to focus on becoming the best copywriter possible. (As a copywriter I hate everything I have just written.) This is the time for my to hone my craft.

I have two focuses in life now. Family and school. Without my day job I should have sufficient time to give to both. I have changed the title of my blog to Ad Dad, because that is now the best representation of myself I can provide.

Important Day

Today is one of those days where everything lines up in a serendipitous manner making me want to believe in the Fates I often find so cruel in their cunning. Whew! Anyway, today is an important day for several reasons. First of all it is Robert Smith of the Cure's birthday. That is cause for celebration enough don't you think? Happy birthday Bob. Thank you for writing such plaintive music to help me muck my way through my adolescence. The second awesome factor about today is that the brand new Depeche Mode album is coming out. So go to your local record outlet (if one still exists) or go online and buy Songs Of The Universe. I haven't heard it, but I know it's good. It's fucking Depeche Mode. Of course it is good. And thirdly, today my band Mercurial Rage who have been monumentally inspired by both The Cure and Depeche Mode are putting out our new single. It is available as a FREE digital download by going here.

Okay that's enough glee for me in the morning. I still have countless hours of day job ahead of me. But seriously folks listen to your assignment and follow through.
1. Go into your library and pick out a favorite Cure record to listen to.
2. Buy the new Depeche Mode album.
3. Download Mercurial Rage's new sigle for FREE.

You won't regret it, and after listening to these three new wave gems you will be filled with as much glee as me!