Dear Satisfied Customer,

My daughter, Holly, recently went for her learner’s permit. She remarked to my wife, Geri, that the driver’s license place stank, and wondered why. Neither of them was able to identify this very distinctive odor. Though I wasn’t there at the time, I knew right away what they were talking about. It was the all-too-familiar stench . . .
of government.

Hey. I just found out that the legendary Pat Martin, one of the true copy gods of Leo Burnett, is now out there freelancing, which is great news for whoever taps into his prodigious talent. And really bad news for the rest of us freelance copywriters. I worked with Pat at FCB a million years ago. He and Ralph Love (an equally daunting talent) were designated as troubleshooters, working on whatever hot assignment needed some extra brain power. Typically, there would be the internal review of everyone’s ideas on a TV project. Pat and Ralph would sit quietly and attentively as team after team would present their boards. Then, at the end, they would get up and, with no glitz or flash whatsoever, blow the room away with wave after wave of fresh, often nuts, yet perfectly reasoned ideas. Always with humility and an infuriatingly charming unassumingness. In this fashion, they systematically demoralized the entire creative department for a year or two. They didn’t mean to. They just couldn’t help it. Sadly, the agency was simply incapable of selling advertising as good as they dreamt up. So they moved on. Back to Burnett from whence they had come. Now this creative powerhouse (who, by the way, has never been anything but gracious, warm and supportive in my experience with him) has been unleashed on the ad community at large.

You’re my hero, Mr. Martin. But please. Have mercy.

Sometimes, when I go into a men’s room with several urinals, and there’s only one guy standing there peeing, I’ll get in line behind him.

The reason baseball is the best sport is the names. One of my favorite Sox player of the seventies was Walt “No Neck” Williams. This year, Sox shortstop Mike Caruso has been dubbed “Slappy”. And I had never heard Burt Blyleven’s nickname until it came up during some radio sports talk show recently. His nickname: Burt “Be Home” Blyleven. I laughed for way longer than normal when I heard that.

Stoically,

 

It seems there was a gamma ray explosion in deep space recently which, for a few tenths of a second, released more light and energy than the rest of the universe contains. What causes gamma ray explosions no one knows, though about 150 theories have been advanced so far.

“All the arts aspire to the condition of music.” - Walter Pater

“Beware, I bear more grudges
than lonely high court judges” - Morrissey (From some song)

New federal government work titles since the Federal Workforce Reduction Act:
Deputy to the deputy undersecretary
Assistant chief of staff to the administrator
Associate principal deputy assistant secretary

“Time outwits consciousness.” - Jean-Francois Lyotard