Month of Travel: Pure Bliss in Moscow

It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world.  The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today I take you inside the Ararat Park Hyatt in Moscow and their incredible spa.   

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Okay, so where am I?

My travels to Moscow centered on a continuing my trip around the Kontinental Hockey League arenas for my new book slated for a 2021 release and a visit to the Moscow City Days to take in all of their festivities and events. I'm no stranger to the inner workings of Fairs and Festivals having spent fifteen plus years promoting county fairs back in my agency days. The average county fair brought in anywhere from 10,000 to 25,000 people a day and my clients were always happy. As I was soon to find out, this attendance total was small potatoes. Very small.

This year, Moscow celebrated its 872nd birthday with a lavish and vibrant festival throughout the city center and Russia’s main exhibition center, the VDNH (loosely translated as the Exhibition of Achievements of National Economy). The scene was wild with street performances, flash mob dances, circus acts, ziplining, high-wire walkers, private concerts, guided tours at Cosmos Museum, every Cold War Era vehicle you can imagine on display, and a special visit to the Pushkin Museum. The best thing is every last bit of the City Days was free. Three million people attended the two-day festival. Three million! Even on my best day, my record attendance for any festival was 32,091. Three million people is a mind blowing attendance number.

Moscow City Days: Three million attendees!

I spent sixteen hours walking around Moscow those days and rubbing elbows with three million people didn’t feel like that. I feel more claustrophobic at Staples Center watching a Kings game with 18,000 fellow fans than I did with 166 times that amount of people. I immersed myself in the culture of Russia and all of those stereotypes a typical American who lived through the Cold War and the fall of the wall might (and did) bring into Russia. At the end of it all I was drinking Vodka and Georgian Chacha with new friends I met along the way. Someone in the group dubbed me an honorary Moscovite (more on that another time!).

All of this hobnobbing came at a price and mainly that was my back, feet and legs. Walking 22,000 steps every day for a week takes its toll but luckily I had chosen the perfect hotel rest my weary head, the Ararat Park Hyatt.

Close to Red Square and 1,000 steps from the Bolshoi Ballet, this elegant hotel has notably good service and is home to the Conservatory Restaurant & Bar, a place with a summer terrace that serves caviar worth getting on a plane for. But it was their spa that hooked me.

Between the fifty miles walked in five days along with the discomfort of cramped airline seats and the nasty process of getting through security and on the plane, I needed some immediate relief. On Saturday, my itinerary had an open afternoon slot and the folks at my hotel scrambled to find me an appointment at their in-house Quantum Spa nestled on the fourth floor.

What resulted from my 3:30pm session was pure bliss and the eradication from several chronic conditions that had haunted me all year. This is in no small part to the incredible work and care given by Victoria, the spa's superstar therapist. Her "Russian DPS" massage made all other previous spa therapies in other countries pale in comparison. She meticulously picked the correct oils from my skin and worked her way from head to toe wiping away all the knots that had built up over the months.

A massive tip of the hat to her as she found the rock-hard, fist-sized ball of nonsense that had afflicted my sciatic nerve since that 40-floor hike to the top of Puerto Vallarta locked it all earlier this month. In one magical hour, all of my stress and muscle issues disappeared.

I owe you, Victoria! (Also George at the front desk too!)

After the massage, I was delivered fresh brewed green tea poolside before a sublime sauna session and a dip in the best jacuzzi you could ever imagine. An extra note about the tea—a departure from the tepid cup of spring water that typically greets you after a massage—it was truly special as well. This wasn't a bag of Lipton thrown into a cup of water that forces you to wish you opted for another good-for-you beverage. This was steeped from locally-sourced tea leaves and served with an organic cookie. Sipping tea by the pool was therapeutic maneuver that left me dreaming that these moments of mental purity could be bottled and opened up each time client decides to "follow their gut" and torpedo your carefully crafted media buy you spent an entire quarter constructing. Yet, I digress…

I guess the moral of the story is that if you find yourself in Moscow anytime soon, book at appointment with Victoria at the Quantum Spa and your life could very well be changed much like mine was. At the very least, book your stay at the Ararat Park Hyatt where their amazing rooms guide you to a layer of happiness not soon forgotten.

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Ararat Park Hyatt Moscow

4 Neglinnaya Street

Moscow, Russia, 109012

+7 495 783 1234

Website

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Photo Gallery

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Month of Travel: A Panorama From Beirut

It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world.  The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today, I take you to Paris of the Middle East, Lebanon and the Four Seasons Hotel Beirut with the best rooftop surprise in the region.

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Okay, so where am I?

I'm in Beirut, a city of paradox. It has a opulent French-influenced history, a proud culture, with affable and hospitable. Yet, they city has been traumatized from extraordinary political turbulence over the preceding four or five decades and it shows. A robust military presence saturates Beirut and you cannot escape the sight of crumbled buildings when exploring the historic avenues interspersed between the beautiful mosques and churches, the myriad of outdoor cafés, and the burgeoning marina the city is known for.

But seriously, none of this should detract you from visiting Beirut and soaking in its history. With its mixture of religious culture and a rather liberal social scene, Lebanon is the distinctive country in the Middle East and remains extremely safe today. There's no place on earth even vaguely like it. Everything that’s great is co-mingled with all the world's troubles all in one magnificent, screwed up, enchanted, exasperating, splendid city. I love it there in spite of everything. After visiting 32 countries in my lifetime, it remains my favorite, even after a half a dozen longish visits.

Each time I have rolled into Beirut, I’ve found a fine hotel with an inspiring view of the Mediterranean. My stop this time was no different as I found myself at the lavish Four Seasons.

Up front I have to say that every five-star hotel is not the same nor do they provide the same level of service. Trust me when I say I don’t tolerate a bad room or a crummy hotel. I’ll leave just a soon as I arrive, but something about the Four Seasons Beirut that made it so I never wanted to leave, ever.

Maybe it was because all of the 230 guest rooms have balconies. Or that the beds were the perfect blend of soft and firm or that every painting (yes, real oil paintings), every chair, lamp, fixture, was so lovely and perfectly selected for each environment. Maybe it was the designer soap that looked like it would be more at home in a palace bathroom rather than one in a hotel. Everything was high quality from massive thread-count linens to the cushioned balcony chairs and plush bathrobes and slippers.

Little did I know the best was yet to come.

A special dinner was waiting for three colleagues (and me) on the 26th floor rooftop. Here is where I was caught off-guard and where the hotel immediately became my must-experience for any return trip to Beirut: the sweeping panoramic views of the city. On a bustling Tuesday afternoon, there was a total sense of peacefulness and harmony that overwhelms you and that’s before the delectable spread of food was served.

In the 1950s, Beirut was awarded the moniker the “Paris of the Middle East” for its cultural and intellectual life along with the culinary delights that took the best of Parisian dining, simplified it and dipped it in a vat of hospitality. The 26th Floor captures that nostalgic essence and takes it to dazzling new heights serving scrumptious Pan-Asian cuisine including black cod, miso chicken gyoza, and impeccably spiced bao buns.

I spent the next few hours lounging on the roof, and partaking in handcrafted  spirits and Partagas cigars selected from their vast humidor inside The Bar & Lounge. Somehow everyone on duty anticipated my every need. That special evening was the anecdote for the ball of stress I had become during the week-long trip filled with intense deadlines. A traveler could be used to this kind of thing.

The hotel features an intimate spa that incorporates local-sourced organics—sea salt, olive oil, cedarwood—into their treatments and a fitness center with stylish smartphone-compatible treadmills (just plug in and control it from their main screens), and the centerpiece amenity, the top-floor pool with 360-degree views of Beirut, the Mediterranean, and the snow-capped Lebanese mountains.

Four Seasons hotels are legendary for their five-star service and style but it’s the Four Seasons Beirut that elevates the brand. This is exactly what you get when you cross Four Seasons with renowned Lebanese hospitality. They handle the little extras everything from the doormen at the front to the location, décor, and incredible staff. This luxury property is worth the trip alone.

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Four Seasons Hotel Beirut

Minet El Hosn

Beirut, Lebanon

Phone: +961 1 761 000

Website

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Photo Gallery

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Month of Travel: Meditation in Puerto Vallarta

It's been a good year for the Media Guy Struggles. As the leading lifestyle media brand for those curious about the life of a modern (M)ad Man, the website is growing faster in unexpected ways. August marked the best month of all time for readership, advertising, and elevated Q ratings. To celebrate, I took to the road looking for the best food, drink, travel, and places to stay in the world.  The result is the Month of Travel where I tell tales and wax poetic about only the very best in the world. I'll take you to Russia, Mexico, Lebanon, and Canada. At the end, I hope it inspires you to weave your own story through the fabric of travel. Today I take you to Puerto Vallarta and the magical healing powers of mindfulness that exists under the Mexican sun at the Villa Premiere Boutique Hotel & Romantic Getaway.   

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Okay, so where am I?

I don’t really know how it happened or why, but I’m on a Puerto Vallarta beach overlooking the legendary Banderas Bay attempting to emulate Gisele Bündchen, Deepak Chopra, and Angelina Jolie in our mutual quest toward mindfulness through “meditation moments” and yoga.

Ever the skeptic, I was lured to the Villa Premiere Boutique Hotel & Romantic Getaway because of their Mind & Spa amenities and the promise of “promoting a lifestyle full of health and balance.” I spent almost a week meditating in various forms in the very city that Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton turn their passion into living love entity and barely thought about the stresses that always seem to haunt me back in my home base of Los Angeles.

I thought I'd loathe the world of mindfulness. Instead, it changed the way I've thought about my own mind in the months since.

How did I get here?

A year ago, close friend of mind randomly suggested one day that we sign up for a great week in Puerto Vallarta where I could get in touch with my inner self on a makeshift meditation retreat. One of the best parts—I was told—was that the romantic getaway was only a three-hour flight from Los Angeles. “But there will be no romance for me going solo,” I protested, to which the quick reply was, “Have a romance with yourself. Treat you for once. Give yourself the gift of peace of mind. What’s the worst that could happen?” I was skeptical enough, but per most of life's best moments, I spontaneously said, "I’m all in" and we were on our way.

A short coach ride from Licenciado Gustavo Díaz Ordaz International Airport brought us to the gleaming white beachfront hotel. There, the romance began. At check-in, I was treated to a refreshing scented towel, a massage, and a champagne toast. The front office staff, who live the Mexican hospitality dream daily, walked me through the a vast selection of temporary lifestyle changes. Everything from linen and pillow choices to an upgrade to a balcony Jacuzzi room was offered. I was walked through their exclusive in-room aromatherapy where I would be surrounded by lovely scents in your suite. I opted for the sage with lemon grass on days one and two and Sandalwood for the remainder of my stay.  It was then that I learned we would not be allowed any types of stress during our all-inclusive stay. A boy could get used to this (and as you’ll see, I did). Things were about to get interesting.

The Honeymoon Jacuzzi Suite includes a free sunset daily.

As I discovered, meditation days are one of the biggest travel trends of the past decade, and, like a fine suit expertly crafted by an English tailor, you can have them your way at the Villa Premiere. You can bask in the quiet detoxifying air in the luxurious steam and sauna rooms, or take a massage at the end of the hotel’s cobblestone pier that stretches into the bay. Here, you can be treated to the beginnings of mental and spiritual balance with an exclusive body treatment in a setting you typically only see in fancy brochures. Once-in-a-lifetime pampering trace their history back to the days of the Roman Empire, but have picked up steam as ever more of us seek an escape from modern life towards immersion into holistic solitude.

The type of meditation I would be experimenting with traces its contemporary roots to the late sixties and, as I was about to find out, is certainly more on the extravagant without flashy touches or corporate wellness packages.

I checked into my room—the Honeymoon Jacuzzi Suite—and immediately got lost outside where the hot, bubbling water called me to watch the sunset from my clothing-optional outdoor hot tub overlooking the Bay. All of this forced me to be late downstairs to get the lowdown on what to expect from my time at the resort. But none of that mattered because I was promised absolutely no stress upon check-in and as it turns out, I wanted to test limits of that mantra. The goal of this retreat, as I understood it, was to remove all thoughts from our minds so that we could glimpse, if only for a moment, the feeling of enlightenment. (I'm fairly sure I was never promised enlightenment, but from my reading of “Siddhartha” at the time I was pretty sure that's what they meant.)

The next day I was down on the pristine sands, filling the beach with hopes of enlightenment, and there she was there she was: my Mexican yogi for the day. Not in one of those intimidating white robe reminding me that yoga wasn’t my thing, but rather a beautiful spirit in white leggings there to nurture my journey. After we were given mats and towels to rest our weary bodies, it began.

Desayuno in its simplest of glory.

"Focus on your breath," our instructor said, in the calmest meditation-yoga tone possible. "Just imagine your thoughts are like orangutans, swinging from branch to branch. When a thought comes, identify it, and let it go." The goal was to stop our "orangutans minds" from leaping from one arbitrary thought to the next, which can be a source of stress and sorrow. As we moved through position to position, she told us frequently to focus on our breath "going in one nostril and out the other" as we inhaled and exhaled, over and over again.

Breathing and spa treatments weren’t the only thing I did for five days. There was also some exploration and lots a delicious, healthy food. At dawn each day, I watched the light rise about the hotel poolside over desayuno delicately prepared by their amazing culinary staff (more on that later). My favorite treat was the pancakes with fresh berries and a Mexican latte. The simple things in life are not free, but all meals and beverages (yes, alcohol too) were included with my room, so I lived it up. I felt at home by the mere fact my waiter who wound up serving us for five straight days remembered my name and room number by the time my coffee cooled off enough to drink it. With each bite, I breathed with my nostrils, in through on, and out through another with reckless abandon.

And that was the first time I started to realize this whole meditation thing might actually be working. I was focusing on chewing without letting those annoying random thought invade my bliss, when I realized I was really connecting—like, chewing the life out of these pancakes. As the berries begged my taste buds to enjoy the flavors I often took for granted, I thought to myself, "What the heck? I never enjoyed fruit as much as this before." Then I realized my mind, finally uncluttered, was so focused that I was able to enjoy a meal as never before.

The delectable grilled octopus at the Cafe des Artistes.

Puerto Vallarta is known around the world as a destination with an abundance of culinary delights. As a foodie hotspot, I didn’t have much interest since the Villa Premiere had a host of excellent restaurants ready to accept my bidding, each with its own distinctive style and flavors. At the urging of my meditation partners, I was persuaded to try the iconic Cafe des Artistes and I am sure happy with myself that I agreed.

Chef Thierry Blouet is a legend in Puerto Vallarta and upon entering the Café des Artistes you easily see why. The romantic lush multi-level patio gardens surround you and the twinkling lights engulf your senses. Good thing I already had the orangutans mind training by then because you swoon because of the setting along. The exceptional haute cuisine fuses fresh Mexican ingredients with European techniques to deliver a meal you’ll be hard pressed to find a parallel. I opted for the ceviche and then the grilled octopus with roasted polenta and smoked organic beets, chicharitos mousseline in red wine sauce.

“For me, grilled marinated octopus served with chayote au gratin, spinach, mushrooms, bean sauce and crispy cuitlacoche is one of the best octopus dishes we have ever served at the restaurant. We tried various ways to prepare octopus, always keeping in mind the questions: How can we reinvent it? How can we use it differently? Until this recipe occurred to me” says Blouet.

There I was, reveling in my newfound superpowers, chewing and submerging my being into the flavors I never stopped to full embraced, when I accidentally broke my the rule of allowing random thoughts to engage me and I devised a plan for a project at work the had dominated my workflow for months. In an instant I had mapped the plan out on my iPhone notepad. Ah, the power of breathing and meditation.

Villa Premiere’s Executive Chef Elias Sapien

Just when I thought I reached food nirvana at the Café des Artistes, it was in the very spot where I indulged in the bayside massage that I was spoiled with a dining experience that I doubt my life would be complete without. In one of the most overwhelming dinners ever created, the Villa Premiere’s Executive Chef Elias Sapien created an private and elite menu* and I am still left wondering why and how I was worth of such haute cuisine. Sapien, was at the table the entire evening making the night that much more special, adding his unique layer of humor and explaining how to blend regionally-source ingredients into his recipes. The fun came to light in the “Go Fishing” fishing course where shrimp-filled fish bowls bubbling with dry ice were served and we actually caught our meal with the fishing poles they supplied. 

I wonder how many hours of meditation he needed to gain the clarity needed to dream up that brilliance….

On the third day of meditation, I finally did it. I reached the glorious moment we had all been striving for: For a moment, my mind went truly blank and it happened in one of the best private beaches in the world: Las Caletas, Mexico's Garden of Eden. Access to this enchanting coastal haven runs through Vallarta Adventures, I’ve had excellent times with Vallarta Adventures in Cabo San Lucas over the years, so entrusting my meditation relocation to them was an easy call, especially since the Villa Premiere worked with them to set up a, isolated, off-the-beaten-path day of relaxation underneath swaying palms and the gentle barks from the seal sanctuary that resides on the island. 

The bliss came as I was lounging on my sequestered hammock while trying one of the four specialty drinks they made for me there. It only lasted only a few seconds before the orangutan burst in and I thought to myself, triumphantly, "I have no thoughts in my head!" which, of course, is a thought, so I had to start all over again. But for that moment, I nibbled on that transcendental state that had only been rumored. I have to admit; it was an incredible moment of enlightenment that seemed to last for hours.

In the months since these elevating stages of mental paradise, I have replicated it regularly. I never forget it and I suspect that if you get the chance to try it—really, actually shut your brain up for a few days—you'll find that place where all happiness and transparency begins. 

And, to think it all started for me on a magical hotel in Puerto Vallarta.

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*The Chef's Table by Elias Sapien

FIRST COURSE—The Wine Harvest

Red Wine Grapes

Carrot and Vanilla

Pear and Pink Pepper

Hilum Tomato and Cinnamon

Blackberry and Pepper

Aged Cheddar

SECOND COURSE—Coral Salad with a collection of herbs dressing and traditional Caesar

Organic Lettuce

Avocado Foam

Palm Hearths

Artichoke

Goat and Parmesan Cheese

Organic Cherries

Asparagus

Wonton Crunchy Cones

Walnuts and Pistachio in Flavor Crusts

THIRD COURSE—Go Fishing

Grilled Shrimp in 13 Spices

Mango and Lime Mix

Grilled Shrimp in 13 Spices + Mango and Lime Mix

FOURTH COURSE—Fish on the Rocks: Mahi Mahi cooked in pink salt rock

Sweet Corn Purée

Charcoal Ezquite (corn)

Achiote and Lime Sauce

FIFTH COURSE—The Cow (four different cuts of beef: Short Rib – Rib Eye – New York – Tenderloin. With personal grill to cook to your desired heat.)

Black Garlic

White Truffle

Pink Pepper

SIXTH COURSE—Watch out for the Coconut

Coconut Gelato (from the palm tree)

Banana Bread

Pineapple Cream

Sweet avocado

Pasilla chile pure

SEVENTH COURSE—Traditional Bird Cage

Mezcal Cream

Smoked salt

Caramel Orange pealing

Cotija cheese

Coral Salad with a collection of herbs dressing and traditional Caesar

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Villa Premiere Boutique Hotel & Romantic Getaway

San Salvador 117, 5 de Diciembre

48350 Puerto Vallarta, Jal., Mexico

+52 322 226 7040

Website

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The Biz: Art Director Kits and The Man in the Hathaway Shirt

In the last installment of The Biz, I recalled origin stories about my life in the New York ad agency world, including Schelp-Rock, copywriters, and would-be vampires. In the continuing saga of agency life, here's an ode to a shirt ad that inspires even today...

*Read the copy below...

Back at the agency I was buddies with one of the creative directors. Martha was in her forties and I was in my twenties. She was tough as nails, but also had a glow of a beauty pageant queen. She hated her name because it wasn't glamourous and some would brand her as "old" before even speaking with her. I could see her cut down a vendor at the knees and then strut down the hallway like she was working the catwalk. She was amazing when it was the 11th Hour and a campaign was due. Together, we never missed a deadline. She gave all of the credit to her Creative Director Kit that sat on her rickety bookshelf that sat opposite her drafting desk.

What was in that Creative Director Kit, you ask?

The kit was a curated collection of childhood memories: bobbleheads, vintage cameras, Charlie Brown lunch boxes, industry awards, Star Wars action figures, a View-Master in its original packaging, and Pez dispensers. While other non-creative departments often gossiped about how the kit was an overreach, i.e., a middle finger to the non-creatives, inside the department, we used it as the springboard to the Mendoza Line of the minimums of greatness.

Over the years, I’ve noticed that the greatest advertising creatives I worked with give their Creative Director Kits deep thoughts and carefully ensure that additions and subtractions to these shelves aren’t taken for granted. While their desks are disorderly messes, their muse art grease the wheels of capitalism and advertising art. I chronicled my kit a while ago here.

In Martha’s case, on the right partly hidden by her three Clio Awards and wilted bamboo leaves were a few classic print ads—some hers and some clipped from the pages of Life Magazine or Sports Illustrated. One ad that always caught my eye was powerful image of a man with an eye patch that rested upon five chunky paragraphs of copy: “The man in the Hathaway shirt.”

This legendary ad, conceived by David Ogilvy in 1951, is arguably one of the most inspiring pieces of advertising copy ever conceived and the pre-curser to non-sequitur campaigns such as Dos Equis "The Most Interesting Man in the World" and all of the Geico mascot ads. On eBay, there are dozens of framed reprints for auction with sales reported as "brisk." The origins of the ad are a lesson in serendipity mixed with thinking outside of the box.

The man behind the Hathaway Shirt: Ellerton Jette

Ogilvy was on the way to his Hathaway shirt photo shoot when he stopped at a Manhattan drugstore and was struck by the jar of 50-cent black eyepatches. He bought a few and became a trailblazer for a brand new style of rogue advertising. Ogilvy was under a tight $30,000 national advertising budget set forth by Maine-based CF Hathaway, a new client who had never advertised before. He knew something out of the ordinary was called for but never expected that the eye patch would become part of advertising lore. He suggested to his photographer, "Just shoot a couple of these to humor me. Then, I’ll go away and you can do the serious job."

The eye patch became the talking point, the buzz of the fashion industry. Without it, the Hathaway campaign was simply another shirt ad with a fit, well-dressed man in an upscale tailor shop. With the eye patch, the ads had a hidden story that made the reader wonder what really happened to this man. Where was he? What did he get into? It appealed to both women and men. The perfect ad.

The first media placement was in the New Yorker, clocking in at over 10 per cent of the total ad budget ($3,176, or the equivalent of $31,288 today). The impact was immediate. Seven days later, every Hathaway shirt in the city was sold out just seven days after the ad appeared.

"The man in the Hathaway shirt" is a master course in copywriting. It's an ad for a short but created a myth and a legend in one fell swoop without ever deviating that the shirt is the primary reason that three thousand dollars was being dropped on a single magazine ad that reached approximately 350,000 people in 1951. Even more startling is that this 247-word advertising manuscript is almost impossible to put down. Try finding an ad now this long in our short-attention-span world. Even today, the copy flows like a novel would, conjuring instant pictures of the finest that a shirt company could offer:

The man in the Hathaway shirt

At long last American men are begging to realize that it is ridiculous to buy good suits and then spoil the whole effect by wearing a cheap, mass-produces shirt. Hence the growing popularity of Hathaway shirts, which are in a class by themselves.

Hathaway shirts wear infinitely longer — a matter of years. They make you look younger and more distinguished, because of the subtle way Hathaway cut collars. The whole shirt is tailored more generously and therefore more comfortable. The tails are longer, and stay in your trousers. The buttons are made of mother of pearl. Even the stitching has an ante-bellum elegance about it.

Above all, Hathaway make their shirts of very remarkable fabrics, collected from the four corners of the earth—Viyella and Aertex from England, woolen taffeta from Scotland, Sea Island cotton from the West Indies, hand-woven madras from India, broadcloth from Manchester, linen batiste from Paris, hand-blocked silks from England, exclusive cottons from the best weavers in America. You will get a great deal of quiet satisfaction out of wearing shirts which are in such impeccable taste.

Hathaway shirts are made by a smaller company of dedicated craftsmen in the little town of Waterville, Maine. They have been at it, man and boy, for one hundred fifteen years.At better stores everywhere, or write C. F. Hathaway, Waterville, Maine, for the name of your nearest store. In New York, telephone MU 9-4157. Prices from $5.50 to $25.00.

Ogilvy on the campaign: "For some reason I’ve never known, it made Hathaway instantly famous. Perhaps, more to the point, it made me instantly famous." It also made the eye patch famous.

The patch started popping up in other company's ads featuring eye patches on cows, babies, and dogs. Ellerton Jette, Hathaway’s president, was laughing all the way to the bank having being the genius of deferral, allowing Ogilvy to dream up a campaign unencumbered, promising never to change a word of his copy or fire the agency.

Over the years, I've convinced colleagues to take a deeper dive in the Creative Director Kit found in every creative's office because ads like Hathaway truly puts things in perspective. As the old golf saying goes, you "drive for show and putt for dough. And while it is true that the big drive off the tee brings the oooooooooooo's and aaaaahhhhhh's, the short game is the hard work just like the Big Idea is the hard work and when you land it, it makes you indispensable.

So yes, "The man in the Hathaway shirt" sets a very high creative bar. If you find the ad sitting in the in a creative director's office, rest assured this is someone who aspires to greatness. Someone who realizes their duty is much more than their desk or their paycheck. Someone like Martha. A nod to the diligence and creative energy of yesteryear.



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3H Grade Pencils and George Carlin lead to the Big Idea

Click to enlarge

Okay, so where am I?

I needed some 3H grade pencils since I am sketching out a new look for my man cave and wanted an accurate drawing of case I need to be built. Standard No. 2 pencils won't cut the mustard. Why you ask? Well, H leads are tremendously smudge-proof and supply the cleanest lines, making the pencil of choice for tasks such as technical drawings, light sketching, and outlines. If you’re a lefty (I’m not, but sensitive to the plight of the southpaw), taking advantage of smudge-resistant H leads is a must. Yet, I digress…

Anyway, you used to have to drag yourself to one of the only high-end art supply stores in your city to find these suckers, but not you can fire up Amazon and finish your purchased and have them delivered in a few hours. Amazon is pretty great in that respect. After taking exactly 189 seconds to research, get a proper brand recommendation, select, and purchase my pencils, I surfed around the site and and I stumbled across this first edition classic, "The Agon in Euripides," penned by yours truly. It's brand new and the last one in stock at $73.00. There's also 13 more options starting at $73.37 and some more in the used book bin available from $60.00. I mean why wouldn't you want to purchased this study of the agon, i.e., formal debate, in Euripides' tragedies? Just look at these reviews:

"Lloyd does an excellent job of describing the structure, style and strategies of Euripides' agones, and everyone interested in these rhetorical exchanges will read this book with profit." —Classical Bulletin

"This is a meticulous and scholarly book. It is clear that the author has thought very hard about every sentence, and the result is a careful and highly reasoned discussion of the texts....The analyses of individual speeches are illuminating, and the book is clearly and elegantly written. There is a useful index. Overall, the book is certainly a success, and will undoubtedly be of help to many concerned either with Euripides or with Greek rhetoric." —The Classical Review

Yeah, not for everyone, but for those of you desiring a general account of the formal debate in Euripides, including a contrast with the agon in Sophocles, and contains an extended discussion of Euripides' relationship to fifth-century rhetorical theory and practice, then this is your Holy Grail of agones interpretations.

Speaking of Holy Grails of things, the Emmy nominations came out this week and five ads were nominated for 2019’s Outstanding Commercial Emmy. Apple scored two noms with Nike's "Dream Crazy," "A Great Day in Hollywood from Netflix, and long-form PSA Sandy Hook Promise’s “Point of View,” made the list. See them all in the Adweek story. At the end of the day, we're always working to tell stories that move audiences, you know, those Big Ideas I keep writing about here.

One of the inspiration points I always go to when I'm looking for that Big Idea is the George Carlin comedy bit “Advertising Lullaby.” If you're familiar with Carlin—and you should be—some of his “Seven Dirty Words” are there, so don't watch this at work with your volume up at 10. As a view who has probably watched it a thousand times, this is timeless and genius...

Here's the Full Transcript:

Quality, value, style, service, selection, convenience
Economy, savings, performance, experience, hospitality
Low rates, friendly service, name brands, easy terms
Affordable prices, money-back guarantee, free installation.

Free admission, free appraisal, free alterations,
Free delivery, free estimates, free home trial, and free parking.

No cash? No problem! No kidding! No fuss, no muss,
No risk, no obligation, no red tape, no hidden charges,
No down payment, no entry fee, no purchase necessary,
No one will call on you, no payments or interest till December, and no parking.

Limited time only, though, so act now, order today, send no money,
Offer good while supplies last, two to a customer, each item sold separately,
Batteries not included, mileage may vary, all sales are final,
Allow six weeks for delivery, some items not available,
Some assembly required, some restrictions may apply.

Shop by mail, order by phone.
Try it in your home, get one for your car.
All entries become our properties, employees not eligible,
Entry fees not refundable, local restrictions apply,
Void where prohibited except in Indiana.

So come on in for a free demonstration and a free consultation
With our friendly, professional staff. Our courteous and
Knowledgeable sales representatives will help you make a
Selection that's just right for you and just right for your budget.

And say, don't forget to pick up your free gift: a classic deluxe
Custom designer luxury prestige high-quality premium select
Gourmet pocket flashlight.

And if you act now, we'll include an extra added free complimentary
Bonus gift: a classic deluxe custom designer
Luxury prestige high-quality premium select gourmet leather style wallet.
With detachable keychain, and a pencil holder.
It's our way of saying thank you.

And if you're not completely satisfied, you pay nothing.
Simply return the unused portion for a full refund, no questions asked.
It's our way of saying thank you. Keep your free gift.

Actually, it's our way of saying 'Bend over just a little farther
And let us stick this big dick into your ass a little bit
Deeper.

The Inspiration of Mikey

When I was six and in first grade I used to walk myself home two miles alone, grab the key under the fifth brick from the back row of the orange box that sat on my Inglewood apartment porch, left myself in the house, lock the door behind me and turned on the babysitter known as the television.

In the seventies, the normal fare on my eight channels was reruns (it wasn't called syndication yet)—Bewitched, I Love Lucy, The Original Mickey Mouse Club, I Dream of Jeannie, The Brady Bunch—and it got to the point where I knew the dialog from every show cold. But I didn't watch to see what a moron Darrin Stephens or Major Nelson were or witness Lucille Ball's physical comedy. I watched for the commercials.

I jumped at every opportunity to see more commercials, study the messaging, learn more about the lighting and camera angles. Little did anyone know that the television was more than a mindless brain drain, but rather a series of seminars I built for myself in that empty apartment that would be the backbone of my future career.

My self-educated study of advertising was better than anything I learned at UCLA or any subsequent continuing education classes I still take. When we would visit my uncle, who was in the ad game, I would smuggle extra copies of Advertising Age and (later) Adweek from his office so I could learn even more about the business and the creative process, always looking to get to the next level. I distinctively remember being captivated by Madge, the Palmolive manicurist, who had a gift of the gab and forced her clients to soak their hands in dishwashing liquid while doing their nails.

That advertising was effective and I begged my mom and dad in separate households to buy Palmolive instead of the other Brand X. I had to negotiate for it, even committing to do the dishes at age seven. Did them I did and yes my hands remained soft and I never had "dishpan hands." And then, the commercial that stopped me in my tracks, aired one fateful afternoon.

It was a seminal moment for me. Maybe it was the perfect script or perhaps it was the freckle-faced kid with the same name as me. But whatever it was, I remember exact the time I watching this new spot in an awe-inspired trance in that Inglewood apartment. As an only child, I was captivated by the camaraderie at the breakfast table. As a kid of divorced parents, I was amazed there was time for breakfast debates, or that there was even a breakfast. I loved the announcer's manipulative script and authoritative tone directing parents to manipulate their households that something good for you was actually delicious. I must have watched that commercial 20-30 times that weekend, taking in the nuances of the edit, studying every aspect of it including writing down every word in my black notebook with fresh college-rule paper.

Seeing this spot opened my eyes to the fact that you have to find that amazing idea and drive it with a powerful narrative for anything to truly become special. From a production perspective, I appreciated the meticulously detailed cut and as an ardent viewer, I was convinced that this was one seamless take that built all the way through the debate, the first taste of cereal and climaxing with the "He likes it! Hey Mikey!" What kept me coming back for more was that the momentum didn't ease with the kids. The announcer played us all like puppets with his crafty delivery that drove you to the final framed shot of the cereal box. Brilliance in thirty seconds.

On Monday, I went to school and everyone ruined it. It seems my entire class had seen this commercial and convinced themselves I was the real Mikey. "He likes it! Hey Mikey!" echoed the hallways for a solid month. It was not was I was looking for in life at that time. I never did try Life Cereal but it was that experience that convinced me that it was me who had to craft the commercials. From the writing of the spot to the actual directing of them. It was a must and so I official began my journey.

As I aged and the innocence of the spot gave way to sexier ways to incite a surge of adrenaline that I could encapsulate into my own work became my calling card. Each spot I contrive takes a boutique agency approach working closely with clients to ensure I'm not just checking boxes and running through the motions, but crafting something that will catch the attention of today's constantly changing audiences. Here's the latest series of "Long Man" commercials produced for Sakeru Gummys in Japan...

Who knew that all of this could grow from cereal and dishwashing soap commercials?