The good old days. Part XXXIV.

There seems to be a bit of rancor between young people in the business and the people young people regard as old-timers. Usually because old timers talk, or write, like this:

"When I was a kid in this business—you young fuckers today with your internet and your pixel pusillanimity wouldn’t get this—when I was a kid in this business you could hardly get to your desk because everybody was fucking everywhere—desktops were a favorite location. Push aside the pencils, clear away the markers, we’re gonna fuck right here and now. We were all fucking everyone, that is when we weren’t on long, lavish shoots on location or having three-martini lunches at the Four Seasons while getting a tan from the reflection off of Della Femina’s head. You kids today have no idea. The money. The work. The girls. The sex. The drugs.

We labored with the Whore of Babylon we did. Did everything. Did everyone. And did great work like you whippersnappers will never understand.

You know what, in those days if a client changed a fucking serif—a fucking serif--in my copy, I would punch him in the fucking nose and get a fucking raise for doing it. In fact, sometimes I would just punch the fucking client in the nose just for being a fucking client. And that would ALSO get me a fucking raise.

And we had time in those days. A month or more to concept an ad. Twelve weeks to write the copy. A good six months to write a tagline. When I wrote “Where the future is tomorrow” for Poughkeepsie Plastics—it took me only 20 minutes so I got to take the rest of the year off.

And you kids today gush over a freaking Summer Friday. We had Summer Fridays Monday through Friday.

Those were the fucking days and you fucking kids just don’t get it."

The truth of the matter is that the good old days weren't that good and the business today isn't that bad. This business has never been kind. Creativity has always been hard work. And it's always seemed unappreciated.