If I'm to believe the phone calls I received after my first post,
I'll never have any followers because my photo makes me
"look like a madman."
Okay, I could use some background music here.
I grew up in The Bronx 68 years ago. This pose, the body language and facial expression
you see here simultaneously support both Darwin AND Intelligent Design. What you see
in my photo evolved in what became by 1956, a survival of the fittest/toughest arena.
I was no smarter academically than my made it through the 5th grade mother. Even so,
I was bright enough to know a guy's nose was not supposed to be at a 90 degree angle,
most people have TWO ears. and a person is not born with a Tic Tac Toe
game carved into his forehead. Got it? The last thing I wanted when I got off the subway
anytime after sundown was... let's all say it together... followers.
Some habits die hard and some never die.
For the record, I had 4 fights. I never wanted to hurt anybody. NEVER.
Put enough pressure on a guy's carotid artery and his arms tend to go limp
before he crumbles to the ground. No broken bones. No bleeding. No harm done.
My instincts and my actions have always been to look out for the people who struggle
to take care of themselves. In the streets, in the workplace, wherever. Enough.
This is starting to sound like Henry Fonda.... "Wherever...............I'll be there."
Bobby S was my art director for 5 years at Grey Advertising. We were an awesome
twosome. We had great times together and spent half the day as if we were on stage in
The Catskills. We spent more time laughing than we did eating, and more time eating
than we did working. When you can knock out 8 great ads and TV spots a week,
the rules quickly evaporate. There was a rule at Grey... we made up the rule.... if you
work until 7PM you can order dinner from any place you want. We didn't even abide
by our own rule. Around 6:30 we'd get on the phone and order a few filet mignons
and a bunch of baked potatoes from the old Manny Wolffs Steakhouse. I think
Smith & Wollensky has been on that spot since maybe 1976. We didn't do this with
any regularity, maybe every 6 weeks, but the bills were enormous. One day Bobby
and I look up and Joel Wayne, the Exec CD is standing there looking more baffled than
angry. "Are you guys crazy... you can buy a car for this money." I said, "being carnivores
doesn't mean we eat cars." Bob says something like, "Those cloth seats give me
indigestion." Joel gets agitated... "what's the rule on this?" I say, "it's the 7PM rule."
"What the hell is the 7 PM rule?" So we tell him. He stares at us in disbelief.
"Listen, go home at 4... go home at 3... go home at noon...but no more bills."
This doesn't have a happy ending. So I'll save it for next time.
I'll never have any followers because my photo makes me
"look like a madman."
Okay, I could use some background music here.
I grew up in The Bronx 68 years ago. This pose, the body language and facial expression
you see here simultaneously support both Darwin AND Intelligent Design. What you see
in my photo evolved in what became by 1956, a survival of the fittest/toughest arena.
I was no smarter academically than my made it through the 5th grade mother. Even so,
I was bright enough to know a guy's nose was not supposed to be at a 90 degree angle,
most people have TWO ears. and a person is not born with a Tic Tac Toe
game carved into his forehead. Got it? The last thing I wanted when I got off the subway
anytime after sundown was... let's all say it together... followers.
Some habits die hard and some never die.
For the record, I had 4 fights. I never wanted to hurt anybody. NEVER.
Put enough pressure on a guy's carotid artery and his arms tend to go limp
before he crumbles to the ground. No broken bones. No bleeding. No harm done.
My instincts and my actions have always been to look out for the people who struggle
to take care of themselves. In the streets, in the workplace, wherever. Enough.
This is starting to sound like Henry Fonda.... "Wherever...............I'll be there."
Bobby S was my art director for 5 years at Grey Advertising. We were an awesome
twosome. We had great times together and spent half the day as if we were on stage in
The Catskills. We spent more time laughing than we did eating, and more time eating
than we did working. When you can knock out 8 great ads and TV spots a week,
the rules quickly evaporate. There was a rule at Grey... we made up the rule.... if you
work until 7PM you can order dinner from any place you want. We didn't even abide
by our own rule. Around 6:30 we'd get on the phone and order a few filet mignons
and a bunch of baked potatoes from the old Manny Wolffs Steakhouse. I think
Smith & Wollensky has been on that spot since maybe 1976. We didn't do this with
any regularity, maybe every 6 weeks, but the bills were enormous. One day Bobby
and I look up and Joel Wayne, the Exec CD is standing there looking more baffled than
angry. "Are you guys crazy... you can buy a car for this money." I said, "being carnivores
doesn't mean we eat cars." Bob says something like, "Those cloth seats give me
indigestion." Joel gets agitated... "what's the rule on this?" I say, "it's the 7PM rule."
"What the hell is the 7 PM rule?" So we tell him. He stares at us in disbelief.
"Listen, go home at 4... go home at 3... go home at noon...but no more bills."
This doesn't have a happy ending. So I'll save it for next time.
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