Metaphors Amok.

In old-timey baseball parlance, I just had a meeting where I swung and missed. 

Three times.

Wide.

I didn't come close to smiting the ball.

Again in old-timey baseball practice, I swung like a rusty gate.

And I looked awful doing it.

It's easy to rebuke yourself for looking like an imbecile. Many of us grew up and learned through the years how to ride ourselves rough when we did shitty. There are thousands of psychiatrists right now around the world working to undo some of the mean emotional damage we do to ourselves.

In the world I live in now, swinging and missing have been rarer than it's ever been. Since I speak directly to CMOs and CEOs now, I rarely get an assignment that I don't understand. I usually hear straight, unfiltered and from the source what they're thinking and what they feel they need. All the layers modern agencies and modern marketing organizations have created make advertising worse, not better.

Of course, I'm not a waiter. I don't give the client exactly what they ask for. I hear, listen, think, interpret. But I do get to hear their pain directly and can come at things like a HIMARS missile system.

Still, I'll admit, while we all know Garbage In, Garbage Out (GIGO) sometimes we live with another sort of GIGO: Gold In, Garbage, Out. 

That's life.

As a human.

Doesn't matter who you are. Even if you ingest nothing but rose-petals. Shit is shit and shit stinks.

As did the work I presented at 7AM to a client in the UK.

Well, as a wise-person once said, "Well, fuck a duck."

Ducks being what they are there isn't much you can do. Except going back to the page and going again. 

No shame in that.

Humanity in that.

And most human of all?

Trying to do better next time.

Like at 2PM.