Yep. We're great :)
(by Ted Royer, executive creative director of droga5,New
York )
Producers are great. They are my favourite people in
advertising. And I want to marry one. Since every
single person I've met over the last 15 years works in
advertising or some related industry, I've realized
that I'm destined to marry an ad person. After a brief
panic attack, I thought about producers and felt much
better. I want to marry a producer.
I don't want to marry an account services person.
Sure, they can take lots of pressure and abuse from
the world, and they're organized (a definite
prerequisite for my future spouse), but we'd quickly
realize that while we share many goals, ultimately,
she may not care enough about my goals. And caring
about my goals, or at least seeming to, is very
important.
I'm not going to marry a traffic person. They propel
jobs through the agency and thus are obviously good at
getting stuff done. But they cry too much. Or they
yell too much. Or they cry while yelling. There is
crying and yelling at some point in every marriage. I
wish to keep it to the bare minimum in mine.
Marrying another creative seems like a great idea. We
would laugh together. We would dream together. We
would make amazing plans together. But we wouldn't
know how to get any of those plans done or how to
actually make anything happen. And then we would blame
each other.
I could marry one of my clients. We would have a great
initial relationship. She would find me really funny
and inventive, but over time, she might begin to doubt
my motives and commitment. And she'd be right. Am I
bored? Am I ultimately looking to trade up? Am I
looking for a newer, fresher challenge? I'd be coy and
say no. But the real answer would be... maybe.
No, I want to marry a producer. A producer listens to
the most batshit crazy idea and doesn't say yes or no
or ask why, but instantly asks "How?" She could talk
me out of dumb things with grace and logic, or
conversely show me what it's possible to do with
virtually nothing. A producer realizes that just as
business and creativity need each other,
responsibility (her) and irresponsibility (me) do too.
A producer wouldn't be afraid of different challenges,
no matter what form they took. A producer would be
tough, fighting battles I'd neither see nor even know
about. A producer would plan for a rainy day and not
even tell me she was doing it and then, when it
started to rain, she'd say, "It's covered, go over to
the food table." A producer would stay up all night
partying with me, then make sure what needs to get
done gets done, while I sleep. Marrying a producer
would allow me to be as self-absorbed, self-indulgent,
self-congratulatory, naval-gazing and "creative" as I
want to be.
Of course, I could always date someone outside of the
industry and see what the rest of the world is like.
But that would be weird.
(by Ted Royer, executive creative director of droga5,
Producers are great. They are my favourite people in
advertising. And I want to marry one. Since every
single person I've met over the last 15 years works in
advertising or some related industry, I've realized
that I'm destined to marry an ad person. After a brief
panic attack, I thought about producers and felt much
better. I want to marry a producer.
I don't want to marry an account services person.
Sure, they can take lots of pressure and abuse from
the world, and they're organized (a definite
prerequisite for my future spouse), but we'd quickly
realize that while we share many goals, ultimately,
she may not care enough about my goals. And caring
about my goals, or at least seeming to, is very
important.
I'm not going to marry a traffic person. They propel
jobs through the agency and thus are obviously good at
getting stuff done. But they cry too much. Or they
yell too much. Or they cry while yelling. There is
crying and yelling at some point in every marriage. I
wish to keep it to the bare minimum in mine.
Marrying another creative seems like a great idea. We
would laugh together. We would dream together. We
would make amazing plans together. But we wouldn't
know how to get any of those plans done or how to
actually make anything happen. And then we would blame
each other.
I could marry one of my clients. We would have a great
initial relationship. She would find me really funny
and inventive, but over time, she might begin to doubt
my motives and commitment. And she'd be right. Am I
bored? Am I ultimately looking to trade up? Am I
looking for a newer, fresher challenge? I'd be coy and
say no. But the real answer would be... maybe.
No, I want to marry a producer. A producer listens to
the most batshit crazy idea and doesn't say yes or no
or ask why, but instantly asks "How?" She could talk
me out of dumb things with grace and logic, or
conversely show me what it's possible to do with
virtually nothing. A producer realizes that just as
business and creativity need each other,
responsibility (her) and irresponsibility (me) do too.
A producer wouldn't be afraid of different challenges,
no matter what form they took. A producer would be
tough, fighting battles I'd neither see nor even know
about. A producer would plan for a rainy day and not
even tell me she was doing it and then, when it
started to rain, she'd say, "It's covered, go over to
the food table." A producer would stay up all night
partying with me, then make sure what needs to get
done gets done, while I sleep. Marrying a producer
would allow me to be as self-absorbed, self-indulgent,
self-congratulatory, naval-gazing and "creative" as I
want to be.
Of course, I could always date someone outside of the
industry and see what the rest of the world is like.
But that would be weird.
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