Friday, July 20, 2012
Shouty Crackers
I heard a great observation about the difference between boys & girls recently.
Men say rude things to each other that they don't really mean. Whereas women say nice things to each other...that they don't really mean.
This was particularly noticeable in Warsaw where the Poles shared the British facility for swearing & our ironic sense of humour. Despite enduring three hellish years of rapid growth combined with insane clients, inexperienced staff while preparing the agency for an IPO I only went Shouty Crackers once. This was because the stress was relieved by continuous profanity & frequent laughter.
The time I went bananas was when a new account director started hassling me over our service for Mito Chanalo at Polgate Calmolive. I had christened this delightful lady Splash as she was blessed with a sharp squeaky voice that could break televisions. When she began to squawk at me I slammed my directors door & used the pathetic phrase "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM...."
She started to cry.
And between her tears she sobbed the classic phrase; "You... are... rude... to... everyone... but... you.... are...never...rude...to...me"
Men say rude things to each other that they don't really mean. Whereas women say nice things to each other...that they don't really mean.
This was particularly noticeable in Warsaw where the Poles shared the British facility for swearing & our ironic sense of humour. Despite enduring three hellish years of rapid growth combined with insane clients, inexperienced staff while preparing the agency for an IPO I only went Shouty Crackers once. This was because the stress was relieved by continuous profanity & frequent laughter.
The time I went bananas was when a new account director started hassling me over our service for Mito Chanalo at Polgate Calmolive. I had christened this delightful lady Splash as she was blessed with a sharp squeaky voice that could break televisions. When she began to squawk at me I slammed my directors door & used the pathetic phrase "DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM...."
She started to cry.
And between her tears she sobbed the classic phrase; "You... are... rude... to... everyone... but... you.... are...never...rude...to...me"
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Turkish Delight
I have many posts on my time in Warsaw, lots from Russia & a few stories from Kyiv. But I don't have any from my time in Istanbul.
This is because there isn't much to write about. I spent 2 amazing years there. The weather was always pleasant, never too hot or too cold; lemonade weather. The people I worked with were lovely. The clients were reasonable. I don't recall any difficult meetings.
The only headaches were dealing with the Greeks & Frogs who were supposed to supervise Constantinople & has failed to do so leaving a mess that I had to clear up.
I had a beautiful apartment in Cihangir which enjoyed the best view in the world. Across the Bosphorus to the Blue Mosque & the Princess Islands. I even enjoyed driving my lovely silver Ford Mondeo (Ford was our client) around this notoriously choked city. I would drive over the bridge to our office in Asia in the morning & commute home with the car ferry in the evening.
The food was delicious, the women were beautiful, the music was different & fun, Bodrum was only an hour away by plane, the airport was modern & efficient.
Nothing to write about.
This is because there isn't much to write about. I spent 2 amazing years there. The weather was always pleasant, never too hot or too cold; lemonade weather. The people I worked with were lovely. The clients were reasonable. I don't recall any difficult meetings.
The only headaches were dealing with the Greeks & Frogs who were supposed to supervise Constantinople & has failed to do so leaving a mess that I had to clear up.
I had a beautiful apartment in Cihangir which enjoyed the best view in the world. Across the Bosphorus to the Blue Mosque & the Princess Islands. I even enjoyed driving my lovely silver Ford Mondeo (Ford was our client) around this notoriously choked city. I would drive over the bridge to our office in Asia in the morning & commute home with the car ferry in the evening.
The food was delicious, the women were beautiful, the music was different & fun, Bodrum was only an hour away by plane, the airport was modern & efficient.
Nothing to write about.
Monday, July 16, 2012
One Night Near Samarkand
Several years ago I had the opportunity to spend two weeks in Uzbekistan paid for by the company.
The excuse for my trip was to help with the development of the market. But the market was so small that I think I got more personal development from the journey than the company got professional.
It also afforded the possibility of visiting Samarkand & Bukhara, two of the most amazing places I have visited.
When I returned to Tashkent via a marvellous first class overnight train I had the opportunity to go out to watch Liverpool playing Barcelona. But as Uzbekistan is in central Asia the match would not start until 2am. The match would be in Spain so there was little chance of victory but I still decided to venture out in the dark city with my friend Herr Fischer.
We had located a Sports Bar earlier in the day & settled in to enjoy the match. Liverpool's preparations had involved one player, Craig Bellamy, attacking another, John Arne Riise with a golf club in an argument over Karaoke.
The Russian owner of the bar was in a similar mood & decided to attack his wife while we were sitting in the bar. Some local Uzbeks reluctantly agreed to ask him to stop hitting her.
Liverpool quickly went a goal down but amazingly came back to win with two goals from Mr.Bellamy & Mr. Arne Riise.
And to cap off the bizarre evening the taxi driver on our trip back to the hotel offered us the prostitute that was sitting in the front seat.
Being a Swiss & a Scot we politely declined the offer. It was 4am & we were too tired for any further excitement.
The excuse for my trip was to help with the development of the market. But the market was so small that I think I got more personal development from the journey than the company got professional.
It also afforded the possibility of visiting Samarkand & Bukhara, two of the most amazing places I have visited.
When I returned to Tashkent via a marvellous first class overnight train I had the opportunity to go out to watch Liverpool playing Barcelona. But as Uzbekistan is in central Asia the match would not start until 2am. The match would be in Spain so there was little chance of victory but I still decided to venture out in the dark city with my friend Herr Fischer.
We had located a Sports Bar earlier in the day & settled in to enjoy the match. Liverpool's preparations had involved one player, Craig Bellamy, attacking another, John Arne Riise with a golf club in an argument over Karaoke.
The Russian owner of the bar was in a similar mood & decided to attack his wife while we were sitting in the bar. Some local Uzbeks reluctantly agreed to ask him to stop hitting her.
Liverpool quickly went a goal down but amazingly came back to win with two goals from Mr.Bellamy & Mr. Arne Riise.
And to cap off the bizarre evening the taxi driver on our trip back to the hotel offered us the prostitute that was sitting in the front seat.
Being a Swiss & a Scot we politely declined the offer. It was 4am & we were too tired for any further excitement.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Management Trainee, Age 42
I once heard that if your ad agency hadn't sent you to New York by the age of 30 you were a failure.
I cheated.
I was going to a big fat Jewish wedding so I asked the company if I could visit Y&R HQ on Mad(ison) Avenue. The day I spent at command control was mostly a waste of time. They assumed that as I was coming from Poland our level of media expertise was on a par with darkest Congo. One friendly gentlemen wasted an hour of my life explaining what TV spot buying was.
In fact as ex-communist markets have a surplus of nuclear physicists & our TV buying expertise is years ahead of the 50 continental. We literally employ rocket scientists as media buyers.
Then the Mad Man complimented my English. "It's really good for a Polish guy." Thanks I replied, "I learnt as a child." "That is the best way" he said.
Clearly to a New York TV buyer the name Brown isn't a clue to my country of origin.
I heard an even better Manhattan adland story regarding someone we shall call Charles Courtier, because that is his name.
Charles had been deservedly promoted to be global head of Y&R media which meant a move to the Big Apple & a corner office on the 50th floor. There was only one problem; he was a heavy smoker & New York had just banned smoking in public buildings. Being up in the clouds meant a long commute to the street for his nicotine intake.
Inevitably he once had a crafty fag out of the window. A junior employee came into his office & said "Mr. Courtier do you realise you are breaking both State & Federal Law by smoking in the office."
"Call the fucking cops" Charles replied.
I cheated.
I was going to a big fat Jewish wedding so I asked the company if I could visit Y&R HQ on Mad(ison) Avenue. The day I spent at command control was mostly a waste of time. They assumed that as I was coming from Poland our level of media expertise was on a par with darkest Congo. One friendly gentlemen wasted an hour of my life explaining what TV spot buying was.
In fact as ex-communist markets have a surplus of nuclear physicists & our TV buying expertise is years ahead of the 50 continental. We literally employ rocket scientists as media buyers.
Then the Mad Man complimented my English. "It's really good for a Polish guy." Thanks I replied, "I learnt as a child." "That is the best way" he said.
Clearly to a New York TV buyer the name Brown isn't a clue to my country of origin.
I heard an even better Manhattan adland story regarding someone we shall call Charles Courtier, because that is his name.
Charles had been deservedly promoted to be global head of Y&R media which meant a move to the Big Apple & a corner office on the 50th floor. There was only one problem; he was a heavy smoker & New York had just banned smoking in public buildings. Being up in the clouds meant a long commute to the street for his nicotine intake.
Inevitably he once had a crafty fag out of the window. A junior employee came into his office & said "Mr. Courtier do you realise you are breaking both State & Federal Law by smoking in the office."
"Call the fucking cops" Charles replied.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
S&M (Science & Media)
Some people foolishly believe that media is an art.
It's not, it is a science.
While it is fun to win awards & do tactical campaigns the nuts & bolts of the business is the drudge of daily buying. And as in science we can continually test our theories & experiment with new hypotheses. However our business is littered with arts graduates, myself included. We are very good at coming up with fancy names for simple things; amplify for spread, communication architect for media planner & channel envy for "I wish I'd thought of that". We are not so good at understanding statistics, logic & even simple arithmetic.
Luckily there are three excellent books you can read to correct your numerical ignorance. None of them are specific to media but numbers are numbers & they will help the mathmatically abused understand some basic laws.
The first is Risk by Dan Gardner. The second is Traffic by Tom Vanderbilt. And the third is Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. Happy reading.
While it is fun to win awards & do tactical campaigns the nuts & bolts of the business is the drudge of daily buying. And as in science we can continually test our theories & experiment with new hypotheses. However our business is littered with arts graduates, myself included. We are very good at coming up with fancy names for simple things; amplify for spread, communication architect for media planner & channel envy for "I wish I'd thought of that". We are not so good at understanding statistics, logic & even simple arithmetic.
Luckily there are three excellent books you can read to correct your numerical ignorance. None of them are specific to media but numbers are numbers & they will help the mathmatically abused understand some basic laws.
The first is Risk by Dan Gardner. The second is Traffic by Tom Vanderbilt. And the third is Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. Happy reading.
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