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Okay, so where am I?

I needed some 3H grade pencils since I am sketching out a new look for my man cave and wanted an accurate drawing of case I need to be built. Standard No. 2 pencils won’t cut the mustard. Why you ask? Well, H leads are tremendously smudge-proof and supply the cleanest lines, making the pencil of choice for tasks such as technical drawings, light sketching, and outlines. If you’re a lefty (I’m not, but sensitive to the plight of the southpaw), taking advantage of smudge-resistant H leads is a must. Yet, I digress…

Anyway, you used to have to drag yourself to one of the only high-end art supply stores in your city to find these suckers, but not you can fire up Amazon and finish your purchased and have them delivered in a few hours. Amazon is pretty great in that respect. After taking exactly 189 seconds to research, get a proper brand recommendation, select, and purchase my pencils, I surfed around the site and and I stumbled across this first edition classic, “The Agon in Euripides,” penned by yours truly. It’s brand new and the last one in stock at $73.00. There’s also 13 more options starting at $73.37 and some more in the used book bin available from $60.00. I mean why wouldn’t you want to purchased this study of the agon, i.e., formal debate, in Euripides’ tragedies? Just look at these reviews:

“Lloyd does an excellent job of describing the structure, style and strategies of Euripides’ agones, and everyone interested in these rhetorical exchanges will read this book with profit.”

—Classical Bulletin

“This is a meticulous and scholarly book. It is clear that the author has thought very hard about every sentence, and the result is a careful and highly reasoned discussion of the texts….The analyses of individual speeches are illuminating, and the book is clearly and elegantly written. There is a useful index. Overall, the book is certainly a success, and will undoubtedly be of help to many concerned either with Euripides or with Greek rhetoric.” —The Classical Review

Yeah, not for everyone, but for those of you desiring a general account of the formal debate in Euripides, including a contrast with the agon in Sophocles, and contains an extended discussion of Euripides’ relationship to fifth-century rhetorical theory and practice, then this is your Holy Grail of agones interpretations.

Speaking of Holy Grails of things, the Emmy nominations came out this week and five ads were nominated for 2019’s Outstanding Commercial Emmy. Apple scored two noms with Nike’s “Dream Crazy,” “A Great Day in Hollywood from Netflix, and long-form PSA Sandy Hook Promise’s “Point of View,” made the list. See them all in the Adweek story. At the end of the day, we’re always working to tell stories that move audiences, you know, those Big Ideas I keep writing about here.

One of the inspiration points I always go to when I’m looking for that Big Idea is the George Carlin comedy bit “Advertising Lullaby.” If you’re familiar with Carlin—and you should be—some of his “Seven Dirty Words” are there, so don’t watch this at work with your volume up at 10. As a view who has probably watched it a thousand times, this is timeless and genius…

Here’s the Full Transcript:

Quality, value, style, service, selection, convenience
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee, free installation.

Free admission, free appraisal, free alterations,
Free delivery, free estimates, free home trial, and free parking.

No cash? No problem! No kidding! No fuss, no muss,
No risk, no obligation, no red tape, no hidden charges,
No down payment, no entry fee, no purchase necessary,
No one will call on you, no payments or interest till December, and no parking.

Limited time only, though, so act now, order today, send no money,
Offer good while supplies last, two to a customer, each item sold separately,
Batteries not included, mileage may vary, all sales are final,
Allow six weeks for delivery, some items not available,
Some assembly required, some restrictions may apply.

Shop by mail, order by phone.
Try it in your home, get one for your car.
All entries become our properties, employees not eligible,
Entry fees not refundable, local restrictions apply,
Void where prohibited except in Indiana.

So come on in for a free demonstration and a free consultation
With our friendly, professional staff. Our courteous and
Knowledgeable sales representatives will help you make a
Selection that’s just right for you and just right for your budget.

And say, don’t forget to pick up your free gift: a classic deluxe
Custom designer luxury prestige high-quality premium select
Gourmet pocket flashlight.

And if you act now, we’ll include an extra added free complimentary
Bonus gift: a classic deluxe custom designer
Luxury prestige high-quality premium select gourmet leather style wallet.
With detachable keychain, and a pencil holder.
It’s our way of saying thank you.

And if you’re not completely satisfied, you pay nothing.
Simply return the unused portion for a full refund, no questions asked.
It’s our way of saying thank you. Keep your free gift.

Actually, it’s our way of saying ‘Bend over just a little farther
And let us stick this big dick into your ass a little bit
Deeper.

The post 3H Grade Pencils and George Carlin lead to the Big Idea appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

In the seventies, the normal fare on my eight channels was reruns (it wasn’t called syndication yet)—Bewitched, I Love Lucy, The Original Mickey Mouse Club, I Dream of Jeannie, The Brady Bunch—and it got to the point where I knew the dialog from every show cold. But I didn’t watch to see what a moron Darrin Stephens or Major Nelson were or witness Lucille Ball’s physical comedy. I watched for the commercials.

I jumped at every opportunity to see more commercials, study the messaging, learn more about the lighting and camera angles. Little did anyone know that the television was more than a mindless brain drain, but rather a series of seminars I built for myself in that empty apartment that would be the backbone of my future career.

My self-educated study of advertising was better than anything I learned at UCLA or any subsequent continuing education classes I still take. When we would visit my uncle, who was in the ad game, I would smuggle extra copies of Advertising Age and (later) Adweek from his office so I could learn even more about the business and the creative process, always looking to get to the next level. I distinctively remember being captivated by Madge, the Palmolive manicurist, who had a gift of the gab and forced her clients to soak their hands in dishwashing liquid while doing their nails.

That advertising was effective and I begged my mom and dad in separate households to buy Palmolive instead of the other Brand X. I had to negotiate for it, even committing to do the dishes at age seven. Did them I did and yes my hands remained soft and I never had “dishpan hands.” And then, the commercial that stopped me in my tracks, aired one fateful afternoon.

It was a seminal moment for me. Maybe it was the perfect script or perhaps it was the freckle-faced kid with the same name as me. But whatever it was, I remember exact the time I watching this new spot in an awe-inspired trance in that Inglewood apartment. As an only child, I was captivated by the camaraderie at the breakfast table. As a kid of divorced parents, I was amazed there was time for breakfast debates, or that there was even a breakfast. I loved the announcer’s manipulative script and authoritative tone directing parents to manipulate their households that something good for you was actually delicious. I must have watched that commercial 20-30 times that weekend, taking in the nuances of the edit, studying every aspect of it including writing down every word in my black notebook with fresh college-rule paper.

Seeing this spot opened my eyes to the fact that you have to find that amazing idea and drive it with a powerful narrative for anything to truly become special. From a production perspective, I appreciated the meticulously detailed cut and as an ardent viewer, I was convinced that this was one seamless take that built all the way through the debate, the first taste of cereal and climaxing with the “He likes it! Hey Mikey!” What kept me coming back for more was that the momentum didn’t ease with the kids. The announcer played us all like puppets with his crafty delivery that drove you to the final framed shot of the cereal box. Brilliance in thirty seconds.

On Monday, I went to school and everyone ruined it. It seems my entire class had seen this commercial and convinced themselves I was the real Mikey. “He likes it! Hey Mikey!” echoed the hallways for a solid month. It was not was I was looking for in life at that time. I never did try Life Cereal but it was that experience that convinced me that it was me who had to craft the commercials. From the writing of the spot to the actual directing of them. It was a must and so I official began my journey.

As I aged and the innocence of the spot gave way to sexier ways to incite a surge of adrenaline that I could encapsulate into my own work became my calling card. Each spot I contrive takes a boutique agency approach working closely with clients to ensure I’m not just checking boxes and running through the motions, but crafting something that will catch the attention of today’s constantly changing audiences. Here’s the latest series of “Long Man” commercials produced for Sakeru Gummys in Japan…

Who knew that all of this could grow from cereal and dishwashing soap commercials?

The post The Inspiration of Mikey appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.