M&AD Holiday Special: July 4 Memories

Do Not Try This At (My) Home

Since the industry is officially in Hangover Time between Cannes and the holiday weekend, I thought I'd take a break from the usual profession-centric column and share a memory of a past holiday. If you aren't down for the flight of fancy, feel free to take a pass and check back next week.

First, I need to set the scene for you. I'm in my early '20s, trying to make it as a musician, working temp jobs after college. I'm broke from dealing with college loans, and I'm living in a terrible part of Philadelphia, known locally as Fishtown. (It's kind of like Brooklyn, all the way down to the recent revival and spike of real estate values with hipster gentrification.)

So I'm sitting out of my corner gun turret window, about a quarter of a mile away from an elevated train stop, because it's hot and I don't have air conditioning. I'm noodling on an acoustic guitar and trying to write a song. It's pretty much how I spent most of my evenings. I'm looking out at an empty lot with broken glass and drug paraphernalia, and that's when I see these two guys. (Don't worry, we're getting to the good/holiday part.)

They are, well, *painfully* drunk, in the way that's just hard to look at, because they are standing at angles that look wrong. They've got well-lit torches, which is kind of worrisome in any situation that isn't a movie set, and they also have a steel trash can.

Oh, one last thing. They've got fireworks.

Professional, end of the day at an amusement park level, fireworks. Stuff that goes up into the air and makes all sorts of pretty colors, and I have to think they stole some of it, because it's just not the stuff that you see sold to the general public.

Which they proceed to light, at random intervals and random angles, for the next hour and a half.

Which I watch, because how could you not? And I was struck by the following realizations.

1) They could easily end their own lives, or at the very least, seriously impact their future enjoyment of same, at any moment, really. Even if they weren't drunk, but especially more because they are.

2) They could easily end *my* life, in that I'm not very far away from them, and the right/wrong angle means I'm going to get incoming.

3) My choice of address means that there isn't going any real chance of police coming to my location.

Because luck and/or aphorisms about the kind feelings of God toward drunkards, the fireworks show ended without mayhem. The guys set off what they had, laughed like schoolchildren at everything they lit, then staggered off when they were done. I didn't get any songs written that night, but I did get a memory that will last a lifetime, even though it may have ruined me for every Fourth of July since.

After all, professional fireworks shows are great... but they do tend to lack a certain element of drama, right?

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.

GLOWing with quality

Wrestling is the new awesome

This weekend, I binge-watched the new Netflix comedy/drama "GLOW", which stars Alison Brie and Marc Maron. It's a fictionalized version of the creation of an '80s television show for a women's wrestling promotion, and, well, it's great. The writer and director who worked on it honed their craft on the acclaimed "Orange Is The New Black", it hits all of the period notes just right, it does a wonderful job of stretching out and telling the stories over over a dozen people in its ensemble cast, and I hope they make many more seasons of it. Full stars.

But as delighted as I was by watching this, and as much as I'd recommend it to friends, that's not the most striking thing about watching this. What "GLOW" does is prove, not exactly for the first time but in a way that just deepens the conversation while adding more precedent, is provide the viewer with something they hadn't seen before. By doing that, it's just one more moment of long-form/small-audience entertainment that is just so much better than anything you might see in a movie theater. "GLOW" doesn't have to follow the set rules of big-budget stuff, which means it can be, well, so much better than what it might otherwise have been.

This way, you don't need to check the demographic boxes of people who will pay and leave their homes to see a project, and shoehorn in elements that don't really fit. Nor do you have to put the needs of multi-lingual audiences first with big special effects and less than full verbal acceptance. You can avoid having to sand off the very rough edges of your main characters in the goal of making them conventionally likable or attractive. You can also go to deeper and darker places with your plot twists, and not have to worry about de facto censoring from corporate interests and co-promotional tie-ins.

You can, in short, just make art for art's sake, and do so over a far more optimal amount of time. (In GLOW's case, 10 episodes, or the much better part of one day / evening's viewing.)

This is, of course, a dramatic and disruptive change in our world, where movies go from not just cultural hegemony and economic dominance to a much more blunt and narrow place. It also creates the conditions for economic upheaval, since I suspect shows like "GLOW" are going to be part of a retail apocalypse-like meltdown of movie screens, the same way that North America will eventually lose a third of its retail stores from the shift to online and economic leveling.

For everyone who thinks the U.S. is just going to keep growing, I've got a heaping helping of skepticism from the sheer passing of the Baby Boomers from areas of impact. There will be exceptions at the individual company level, of course, but it's not going to be a rising tide for all boats. Which all translates to rough time for the most treasured placement in brand advertising, the 30-second broadcast spot. Now that I'm cord-cut and the NBA Finals are over, I haven't seen one of those in over a week, and probably won't again until the NFL season starts. I can't imagine I'm alone in that group, really.

But all of that, of course, is Not Your Problem as the individual consumer. For us, there are simply great and memorable viewing experiences that stick in your brain for a long time to come, an unprecedented array of choice and convenience, and the desire to share that better way of living with friends and family. Hopefully for many more seasons to come.

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.

Pen and Paper

Literacy, Literally

This week, I was privileged enough to go on-site with a new client, in a conference room with nearly a dozen people. I had my laptop in a bag, as did everyone, and wasn't presenting; this was more of a support role, for, well, everyone in the room. It's kind of where my role lives.

Anyway, I pulled out my bound notebook and pen, and the laptop never left my bag. Everyone else in the room either had a screen open, or computer plus notepad, and I'll be honest with you... it made me self-conscious. For a while. And then I got to the task of filling my notebook, and fully engaging with everyone in the room, because I had pulled the old-school trick of basically putting blinders on myself.

Was I completely focused? No; the meeting went for over three hours, and I still had my phone on me, and not checking your phone for over three hours when its buzzing is something akin to torture, especially when you are, like myself, three thousand miles away from your family. But by the time the meeting was over, the client was satisfied, we had action points to work on, and my notebook had four pages of notes. And I write small.

Which I then took back to my desk, transcribed and edited, and used for two follow-up meetings and an email to the client. It's probably overkill, but when it comes to servicing a client, overkill is the side you should error on. Also, kind of, my brand? But back to the paper.

There's nothing magic about taking notes on paper. I can type faster than I write, the file translates easier with a cut and paste, and there's nothing wrong with people who do all of their stuff on screen. You can get distracted with a pen in your hand, especially if you have doodling skills. (I have none.)

But what a page does is prevent you from seeing all of the other things that you can do with your screen. It makes you more present to your audience, and less likely to be distracted. It adds a certain bit of gravitas to the proceedings, and triggers my memory of the event better later.

It also, likely, shows my age, and my training, because the start of my working life was as a journalist with a clipboard, with no mobile computers. Hence the self-consciousness, especially in marketing and advertising, where the people who are my age are not, shall we say, common. Or growing.

Which seems to be a bit of a shame... because my notes? Pretty good, honestly.

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Feel free to comment, as well as like or share this column, connect with me on LinkedIn, or email me at davidlmountain at gmail dot com, or hit the RFP boxes at top right. RFPs are always free, and we hope to hear from you soon.