We all have to start somewhere. For most people, their ignominious beginnings within the bowels of a corporation, law firm or nail salon are not immediately put on display and then saved in one form or another to be brought back years later at inopportune moments. Like when running for public office or wooing a lady. But such is the fate of the advertising writer or art director. While our very first headlines, layouts or (shudder) coupons may not get produced, at some point some project gets the green light and we are finally able to hold our first piece of bona fide advertising in our still-baby-smooth hands. Unless it’s a digital ad. Then we just stare.
Back before Al Gore even dreamed of claiming to have personally hand-coded the internet, I was a young, willowy sapling of a writer, trying my best to get a job in the red-hot advertising market that was Kansas City. I had been doing some freelancing for a small (six-person) shop on their retirement homes account. Seeing that I was not scared away by these glamorous assignments, the agency owner decided to use me for their next Jiffy Lube spot.
The local Jiffy Lube franchise was going to begin offering windshield chip repair and wanted a TV spot to tout this new profit center. The only requirements were that it had to feature the local franchise himself (as all their spots did), and it had to be cheap (as all their spots were). The former I knew I could somehow accommodate. The latter, well, I had no idea what anything cost to produce. So I winged that mother.
I gave the agency three scripts. One that, I would later learn, would be considered “direct.” (I now hate the phrase “make it more direct,” btw.) One compared rock chips to potato chips. And another that was the eventual winner. As I was a freelancing neophyte at the time, I was not invited to the set. In hindsight, not getting to sit around all day looking at a bearded rich dude standing on white cyc wasn’t much of a blow.
Lucky for you, I discovered a VHS tape of this spot whilst digging through my Archive of Advertising, currently located in a couple of plastic bins in my home office closet. So I fired up Final Cut, digitized that mother and stuck it on YouTube. Behold its wonder:
Produced in December 1994 and aired the following month, that spot is now over 15 years old. Sadly, it is not the worst spot I ever produced. That honor collectively belongs to spots #2 through #7. Some for Jiffy Lube Heartland and some for the national Jiffy Lube client (yes, somehow a tiny shop in suburban KC had an $8 million national account). Some of the spots’ awfulness is fully my fault. Other atrocities I can lay squarely at the feet of others. But the story of my first real war with account service will have to wait for another day.
And in case you’re wondering, I didn’t show this (or other old spots) to my now-wife whilst in the midst of pitching woo. I waited eight years. Which, for the spot I shall only refer to as “Lobster,” was still two years too few.
Later,
Fox
Back before Al Gore even dreamed of claiming to have personally hand-coded the internet, I was a young, willowy sapling of a writer, trying my best to get a job in the red-hot advertising market that was Kansas City. I had been doing some freelancing for a small (six-person) shop on their retirement homes account. Seeing that I was not scared away by these glamorous assignments, the agency owner decided to use me for their next Jiffy Lube spot.
The local Jiffy Lube franchise was going to begin offering windshield chip repair and wanted a TV spot to tout this new profit center. The only requirements were that it had to feature the local franchise himself (as all their spots did), and it had to be cheap (as all their spots were). The former I knew I could somehow accommodate. The latter, well, I had no idea what anything cost to produce. So I winged that mother.
I gave the agency three scripts. One that, I would later learn, would be considered “direct.” (I now hate the phrase “make it more direct,” btw.) One compared rock chips to potato chips. And another that was the eventual winner. As I was a freelancing neophyte at the time, I was not invited to the set. In hindsight, not getting to sit around all day looking at a bearded rich dude standing on white cyc wasn’t much of a blow.
Lucky for you, I discovered a VHS tape of this spot whilst digging through my Archive of Advertising, currently located in a couple of plastic bins in my home office closet. So I fired up Final Cut, digitized that mother and stuck it on YouTube. Behold its wonder:
Produced in December 1994 and aired the following month, that spot is now over 15 years old. Sadly, it is not the worst spot I ever produced. That honor collectively belongs to spots #2 through #7. Some for Jiffy Lube Heartland and some for the national Jiffy Lube client (yes, somehow a tiny shop in suburban KC had an $8 million national account). Some of the spots’ awfulness is fully my fault. Other atrocities I can lay squarely at the feet of others. But the story of my first real war with account service will have to wait for another day.
And in case you’re wondering, I didn’t show this (or other old spots) to my now-wife whilst in the midst of pitching woo. I waited eight years. Which, for the spot I shall only refer to as “Lobster,” was still two years too few.
Later,
Fox
If it had to be cheap, how’d you afford CGI ‘rocks’ back in 1994? I’d think you’d have to go to Industrial Light & Magic for something like that back in those days.
Thanks for sharing . . . you’re fortunate. My first spot involved pantomime.
I have no idea how they did the CGI rocks for a spot that (I think) cost around 10 grand. It was done at Video Post, which used to be on the first floor of the BR building. If you know Mike Adams, he worked there once upon a time.