War Stories Part 1

The first time I met the creative director for a large East Coast advertising agency -- I really wanted to impress him. So I got a little dressed up. It was the early 90s and I thought I had to look a little corporate to impress. In fact, I even bought a "power suit" to go on interviews, until a producer told me she couldn't hire me because I dressed better than she did. The suit ended up in the back of my closet from then on.

In this instance, my creative director, to say the least, was not impressed by my dress for success. His reaction was to give me, the once up and down, with a sneer, "Well, if I don't make you cry by the end of the next 3 days -- I'm not doing my job".

The gloves were off.

Here I am cutting my first national spot, with a big-wig A-hole from NY. I can take a challenge. So we were off and the race was on.

I just cut. And cut. And re-cut. I pulled the music. I didn't think. I just cut. I step-framed -- a new cool look on Avid in those days. I cut again. I compressed the blacks. I cut. Cut again. Hmmm. Lets drop a pause in the music here. I was channeling from the gods. It was pure right brain all the way. I was the mad chef, pulling together the ingredients from all directions. A little of this, a bit of this. How about spicing it up this way. Lets not think too much about it because the fear is going to take over. "Just do it" was the cry in my head. Just do it.

At the end of the second day, we had a cut. I got the verdict -- this is the best cut I have ever done, he said. "I" have ever done. The air went out of me. I knew then that is how it was going to be. The pat on the back was a rare event. And change was how I was going to make my living.