War Reporting.

I didn't get two pieces of business this week that I would have liked to have gotten. That I should have gotten. But I didn't.

Maybe it's sour grapes on my part.

Maybe I dodged a fusillade.

The first was a vodka brand that latched itself to a crappy actor who peaked back in 1985 when he co-starred in one of the Rocky movies. Apparently he still has some currency because somehow he has 3.5 million followers on a child-trafficking site owned by a tax-evader. But alarm bells pealed like Falstaff's Chimes at Midnight when I spoke to his wife and creative director. A woman for whom the phrase "better living through silicone" was coined.

H, my Account Director and I had a great call with their assemblage. They asked for our home addresses so they could send us some booze. I said to H, "If we get something tomorrow, they're ok. If they send us one bottle, we get our money up front. If they send us a case, we ask for only half our money up front."

They sent nothing. Not a wee dram.

Then after a week they asked for spec work. 

That was that.

GeorgeCo., LLC, a Delaware Company does an ad every day very publicly. I've worked for major brands for 40 years. I have self-respect, to boot. 

No spec.

Fusillade one dodged.

The second piece of business was by rights too big for me. It involved media buying which I don't do and production which is a sure way to lose money and be pecked to death by geese.

They found me via the recommendation of a famous friend in the industry. They were told of my "uncanny genius." (His words.) But again, after a few good calls, and good amount of work putting a team together, I got an email yesterday that they went with a holding company agency in New Zealand who did:

Of course, I wanted to say that "little room for concern" is the pitching equivalent of polite applause. Not concerned is not the same as excited. And our job (which most everyone has forgotten) is to excite. Excite ourselves. Excite our clients. Excite viewers.

I liked these people and they liked me. And though I am to burning bridges what John Roebling was to building them, I'll take advice here from Langston Hughes one of my poetical heroes in one of my favorite poems.

Their closed their note to me this way. I'm as good at slamming doors as I am at burning bridges. 

But like Langston said, I play it cool/And dig all jive

This is as front line a report as advertising gets.

My life.

A lot of fusillades.

A little fun.

I wrote:

A lot of trying.

Piss up a rope and your face gets soaked.